It’s Monday, and I’m back at it.  I figure I’ll wrap this little exercise up today, and combine the last two items on the list

We owe a clean and healthy ecosystem to other outdoors users, as well as to the wildlife itself.
  • This includes simple things that are too often overlooked, such as cleaning up behind ourselves (and others). “Litter” is not always an environmentally destructive substance, but at the least it’s unsightly to other users of the habitat. Some of it can be a hazard to wildlife as well, particularly certain plastic products, cigarette butts, and chemical products like insect repellent or gun cleaning solvents. But policing our area can be such a simple thing if everyone would do it, that it just makes it the greater shame when we don’t bother.
We owe other people a safe place to recreate.
  • This means we study and practice safety in ever aspect of our sport, whether it’s driving to the hunting grounds or shooting our weapons. There is no reason anyone should be afraid to share the woods or wetlands with hunters. We should do everything in our power to ensure that is the case.  

Neither of these items is quite as loaded with nuance or conflict as the first two, and honestly, I’m just kind of tired of thinking about this stuff right now. It’s been a deep dive into my own personal ethic, and the soul-searching isn’t turning up quite what I’d hoped to see.

As far as trashing the field, I can’t say that hunters are better or worse than anyone else (hikers, horseback riders, bicyclists, etc.).  I think we could do better, and we should, but honestly, I can sort of understand how hunters would be subject to the same societal weakness as anyone else.  Our current culture revolves around a sense of entitlement, which includes (apparently) the idea that we’re entitled to have “someone else” come and clean up behind us.  “Don’t worry about it, someone will get it later.”

I see this particularly at public land trailheads, where I can almost always guarantee a selection of the following items:

  • Empty water and soda bottles
  • Crushed beer cans
  • Empty cartridge boxes
  • Shell casings
  • Food wrappers
  • Cigarette butts

And always, without exception, if you look just out of sight of the main thoroughfare, you’ll see the blossoms of dozens of “Kleenex flowers.”   These little balls and wads of toilet paper, paper towels, and even wet-wipes bloom like a field of poppies to mark an outdoor latrine.  It’s not so much that someone has been using the bathroom outdoors, by the way, but the laziness and lack of consideration shown by not even bothering to bury their scat… or at least cover it with leaves. 

But again, it’s difficult to lay this on the doorstep of hunters, as you’ll find identical “man sign” at trailheads to areas where hunting is prohibited… sans the empty cartridge boxes, perhaps.  So while I’d like to think hunters would elevate ourselves to a higher level, I can’t say we’re any better or worse than the Sierra Club hiking groups or Tread-Lightly ORV clubs when it comes to making a mess of the habitat.  “Everyone does it,” appears to be the prevailing argument.  

Is that good enough?

As far as Safety, I actually think hunters have done pretty well.  This may be, in large part due to the fact that Hunter Safety training is required pretty much across the board these days, but I also think it’s a reflection on the fact that most hunters are painfully aware of the dangerous potential of our chosen weapons.  You can’t erase mistakes or negligence, because we are an imperfect species (only Human), but given the number of firearms, bows, and knives in the field every year, the accident rate is incredibly low.  The dangers of sharing the woods with hunters are largely a matter of perception, and much less a reality than some people would have us believe. 

So not much internal angst there. 

But to bring it back out to the big picture, are we, as hunters, really doing all we can, or all we should, as conservationists… as good, ethical participants in the ecosystem?  When we peel back the rhetoric and rationalizations, can we still justify the nature of our sport… killing animals for recreation? 

On a purely personal and individual level, can any of us truly say we’re living up to all of the four tenets I originally posted (especially those of you who agreed with them so quickly)?  If you fall a little short, even occasionally, how do you justify your shortcomings, to yourself or to others? 

What happens to your defense if you stop comparing yourself to other people (“At least I’m taking responsibility for killing my own food.”) or other animals (“I’m just another predator.”), but instead judge yourself according to the ethic you claim as your own?  Are you being true to yourself?  Am I?

Over the better part of half of my lifetime I’ve spent an appreciable amount of time responding to challenges that call into question the various ethics of hunting.  There are very few questions I haven’t heard, and even fewer answers I haven’t offered in response.  Years ago I realized that the majority of those answers had little or nothing to do with me as an individual.  They were not the personal, emotional answers of why I hunt or how I really feel about the responsibility of taking a life. 

And I thought I understood that, in the hunting vs anti-hunting debate, those emotional answers meant nothing.  The defense of our sport should not hinge on how any one of us feels about it, but rather on the quantifiable and factual.  It has to be based on what you can prove… hard, empirical data… the economics and biological arguments rather than the moral.

Now, though, as I listen to (and read) other people doing the same thing I have been doing all along, I have started to wonder… who are we really trying to convince?  How many of us are actually arguing with the anti-hunters, and how many of us are really trying to convince ourselves… to mollify our own sensibilities? 

I look back over my own history, and consider the things I’ve seen, done, said, and written.  How much of that really fits into the pat answers of economic benefit and wildlife management goals?  Are those just crutches to excuse less-than-perfect actions or results? 

When I pull the trigger and send a copper bullet downrange at a deer, I’m not really thinking about the $2 and change that went into the coffers of the hunting industry, or the percentage of that $2 that will go to Pittman-Robertson funds and eventually cycle back into habitat restoration and wildlife research. I’m not really even thinking about the fact that my choice of copper bullets over lead may save the life of some scavenging bird.  All I’m thinking about is killing that animal, despite the fact that I absolutely don’t have to do so. 

And if my bullet goes awry, and the deer runs off wounded, I’m not thinking about the argument that harvest quotas take into account that a percentage of game will be shot and not recovered.  Management goals are still going to be met, if by virtue of nothing more than my purchase of a tag and my financial contribution to the program.  At that particular moment, none of those considerations means anything to me.    All I’m thinking about is that I just left an animal in pain, possibly dying, and all for nothing.  Later, I may tell myself that the deer didn’t go to waste, as the scavengers will feed on it even if I don’t, but that won’t change what I did or the fact that it didn’t have to happen at all.

I think of all the stories I’ve heard from people who went out on a hunt and witnessed a slow kill or a wounded animal, and they immediately gave up hunting forever.  We shake our heads and say, “that’s a shame,” and maybe offer some platitudes about how that’s not always how it is.  But the truth is, that’s exactly how it is sometimes.  That person, on an individual level, was absolutely right to give up hunting.  He, or she, could not justify the pain or suffering against the backdrop of a recreational outing. 

And it always comes back to that.  Hunting is sport.  It is recreation.  We are killing voluntarily, and for fun.  With that in mind, how much should we do to make this activity right… to square our actions with a general moral standard that killing isn’t supposed to be fun (and I know, hunting isn’t the same as killing… but that’s a hair-splitting irrelevancy).  How much should we do to ensure the quick, clean kill or the healthy ecosystem?  How high should we set the ethical bar, and how much flexibility should that bar allow?  Should there even be exceptions? 

At what point is hunting no longer OK? 

How much is enough?

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