The letter looked ordinary. A white envelope, the tax office logo, a few formal lines. Then one number that made a 72-year-old retiree’s heart race. A five-figure bill tied not to his modest home, but to a thin strip of land he barely used and had lent to his neighbor for a few beehives.
Years earlier, Bernard (not his real name) had simply nodded yes when a younger neighbor asked for a corner behind the vegetable patch. No rent, no paperwork, just jars of honey and a handshake. Over time the hives multiplied. On the tax office screen, that forgotten rectangle looked like land with a stable, income-related use and was moved into a higher tax category.
Pollinators are priceless, but land registers see numbers
Bees and other pollinators are doing work that is vital for the rest of us. International assessments estimate that animal pollinators support roughly 35% of global crop production volume.
In Europe, that service is under pressure. An update of the IUCN Red List reports that around 10% of assessed wild bee species in Europe face extinction risk, and many butterflies and hoverflies are also threatened. At the same time beekeeping is widespread, with Eurostat counting more than eight million beehives on EU farms in 2020, on top of many backyard hives in towns and villages.
So when neighbors host hives together, they are, in a small way, helping keep pollination alive. The problem is that tax rules and satellite maps do not see good intentions, only land use.
Digital eyes over quiet fields
In Bernard’s case the trouble started with aerial imagery. Many European tax offices now use satellite photos and software to flag changes that can affect property tax. In France, an AI system that scanned aerial images for unreported swimming pools found tens of thousands of undeclared pools and raised millions of euro in extra revenue.
From high above, a row of pale boxes along a hedge is just proof of a stable use. Screens show parcel numbers, not a friendly agreement over the fence. Officials follow codes. Whether the honey money reaches the owner matters less than the visible, long-lasting change in how the land is used.
How to host hives without getting stung
Does this mean you should never lend land for hives or other green projects? Not necessarily. It suggests treating even friendly favors with the same care you give a major item on your electric bill.
Lawyers who work on rural property put it bluntly. “The problem is not the bees, it is the silence.” When nothing is written down, the law fills the gaps, and that rarely matches what neighbors thought they had agreed.
In practical terms, three moves help. A short one-page agreement describing the plot, the activity and who pays any taxes or insurance linked to that use. A line on whether the activity is hobby or commercial plus a time limit that must be renewed instead of running forever. And a written note on what happens if the owner wants the land back, including how fast hives and equipment are removed and who cleans up.
For the most part, tax offices do answer written questions. A short letter or email asking how a planned use will be treated can give you a reference if there is a problem later. It is not glamorous paperwork. It is cheaper than an unexpected reassessment at 72.
Rethinking green favors between neighbors
Stories like Bernard’s travel fast in small communities. They can push people toward two extremes. Either stop helping anyone, or keep trusting that no one will ever complain and that the system will always look the other way.
There is a quieter middle path. We can keep sharing space for bees while accepting that handshakes now live under the same sky of satellites and databases as everything else. Talking early about money, taxes and exit plans may feel awkward over a jar of honey, yet it protects both the relationship and the pollinators that depend on friendly hosts.
The study was published on IUCN.
