On the big magazine websites, the commentary generally gets so stupid and personal that I often don’t bother to speak up.  I couldn’t avoid this one though.

I know we’ve hashed this one out on this blog and many others.  A lot of feelings got hurt, a lot of people took it really personally, and some generally ill-will was created.   It is, to say the least, a pretty hot topic.  I have no doubt that some bloggers pull it out from time to time just to get people commenting and keep the traffic levels up.  It’s not a terrible strategy.

As I started to say in a follow-up comment on that post, there’s a lot of good that can come out of a constructive conversation about high fence hunting.  Calling people names and deriding other hunters simply because they enjoy a different aspect of the sport than you is not constructive.  Exploring and addressing the real problems and issues with high fence operations… CWD, escaped non-native species, inhumane conditions… that will get us somewhere.

That’s the conversation I’d like to see people take over to the Big Buck Blog now.  It would be nice to see thoughtful and constructive discourse override the kneejerk and immature.

One such paper that I picked up at Oasis Outback (a really cool micr0-Cabelas kind of place in Uvalde, TX) was the Lone Star Outdoor News.  In amidst the fluff stories about a grandfather who taught his grandson to flyfish, and the general, monster buck stories, there was this piece about Diamond Poole, a Dallas fitness model who went from anti-hunter to hunter over the space of a year or so (Note: The full article isn’t available online yet. This link opens a photo spread.).

According to the article, Diamond’s conversion came about after she met and fell in love with a hunter.  Through conversations about wildlife management, the realities of life for wild animals (the real world is not like Bambi), and hunter-based charities such as Hunters for the Hungry, he helped her see that hunters weren’t the “demented rednecks” she’d imagined.

After easing into hunting through sharing a blind on hunts, skeet shooting, and then dove hunts, Diamond took up the gun herself and has since killed a couple of really nice Texas whitetails, feral hogs, and some exotics… almost all in the space of a year.  I’d say the conversion is fairly complete… and all because a hunter was willing to talk to an anti-hunter and share his passion for the sport.

Why’d I share this?  Well, partly because I’m a little short on manageable ideas right now.  And yeah, those who might accuse me of bias because she’s kind of easy on the eyes… well, I’ll plead no contest.

But I also thought her story is sort of relevant to an ongoing topic amongst us outdoor bloggers.

In blog “conversations”, many of us have talked about meeting anti-hunters and helping to change their minds about hunters and our sport.  Some of us, like Tovar and Holly actually spend a lot of time doing exactly that, and both of them come from a past where their own opinions of hunters weren’t very positive.  As a result of these meetings, by chance or otherwise, we may not have converted the anti-hunters into hunters, but we’ve changed their attitudes.  While I don’t think this one-on-one approach is going to resolve the larger challenges to the image of hunting and hunters, it certainly doesn’t hurt.

I don’t know yet who gets the blame, whether it’s Word Press (the software behind this blog) or Outdoor Hub (the company that now owns and manages Skinny Moose), but ever since the format and layout changes I’ve been experiencing one problem after the other.

Since at least Thursday, as some of you have probably noticed, you have been unable to post comments to my blog.  I couldn’t even go in as Administrator and post comments myself.  This is a real problem in light of my last post.

I knew that the post would be contentious, and that no matter how I tried to temper the language, it would offend some people I consider friends (particularly those I specifically named, Tovar and Holly).  I counted on the interactive aspect of blogging to open a public dialogue to hash things out.  However, since no one could post a comment, rebuttal, or other feedback, that opportunity has been quashed.  Feelings have been hurt with no good recourse for assuagement.

Not, of course, that I expected to bring the issue to an agreement.  I’m pretty sure that’s not going to happen and I’m perfectly OK with that.  I just think folks should have the opportunity to react and respond, and then to move past the personal recriminations and get back to the true essence of the discussion.

Now though, the more I think about it, the more I realize that I just don’t care enough right now to try to force the issue any further.  I’ve had my say on the topic, more than once, and my opinion really hasn’t changed.  I (obviously) believe I have a valid point (it is NOT about semantics), but my inability to make that point has frustrated me enough.  There is too much in the real world right now to waste the energy on this academic minutiae.

In the really big picture, it’s not going to make a whit of difference anyway.

Hunting, and hunters, are going to continue on as they have for generations.  Fads will come and go, whether it’s the “locavore movement” or long-range hunting, and hunters will argue and debate about all of it.  The anti-hunters will continue to rail against the inhumanity of “killing for fun”, and hunters will argue that it’s not “just for fun.”  Newer hunters will think they’ve discovered some ethical high road, while the jaded and cynical will try to talk them down from the lofty ideals.  Somewhere in the middle will be the ones who are trying to justify the extremes and find a path of reason and practicality.  And many hunters will just hunt and leave the debates and discussion to the zealots, academics, and bored intellectuals.

Meanwhile, non-hunters will continue to turn an ignorant and condescending eye on those of us who insist on perpetuating this anachronistic activity.  They will laugh at the caricatures (Elmer Fudd) and swear at the monsters (scofflaws and thrill killers), and remain largely unmoved when it comes to taking action to either preserve or end hunting except when convinced that those actions affect them directly.

Eventually, there will probably come a time when the wild resources have diminished and our populations have swollen and hunting will no longer be a feasible (or ethical) practice for the most part.  I expect this to be the distant future, but things move fast in this technological world.

Folks keep thinking they’ve stumbled onto “The Answer” to change all of this, but the truth is that there is no new thing under the sun.

The debate over hunting ethics really hasn’t changed much since I was a kid.  For that matter, I can read the same words and arguments in 75 year-old hunting magazines that I’m reading on blogs and forums today.  With a little digging, I can find some of these discussions ongoing even further in the past… as far back, in fact, as the point where someone realized that even though some people no longer had to hunt to survive, they continued to do so anyway.  Specific topics come and go, the context varies from shade to shade, but the content remains the same.  The only real difference today is that the Internet provides a platform for communal navel gazing and intellectual dissection on a truly global scale… an arena where a much larger audience can march out the same old ideas and arguments to be bashed and beaten and fed to the lions.

So let me say this, because my arena was closed for a few days at a critical time:

I am sorry that those of you who felt strongly about my post were unable to respond here, directly.  The technical problems were not my fault, of course, but had I known that I’d essentially have created a one-sided discussion, I certainly would not have posted anything so contentious.

To those whom I offended with my words, that was not my intent. However, I do not apologize for my opinion, or for stating it honestly.  I stand by what I wrote, and I would write it again.  But I am not your enemy because I disagree with you.  I trust that most of you have the intellectual capacity to recognize that, but it bears saying anyway.

As far as the conversation (or diatribe) about “sport” hunting, I’m pretty well done with it.  I stand to lose nothing of value by allowing the conversation to continue without me.

Unfortunately, our human culture is full of them.  It’s part of how we categorize, and categorizing most likely served a pretty important role in our survival over the generations.  It’s the key to the Us and Other concept, and there was a time when keeping Us away from Other meant life or death.  But as our species moved into lives of relative leisure, the application of stereotypes to categorize Other seems to have lost most of the value it once had, and is now mostly an arbitrary exercise.

Esoterica…

Point is, stereotypes are generally counterproductive and even harmful.  I’ve experienced the effects myself, more than once.

As a youngster, growing up on military bases exposed me to a lot of people from the northeast… “Yankees”… even down in NC.  Many of my peers were from places like New Jersey, New York, Massachusetts and Maryland.  From them, I picked up something of a “Yankee” affectation in my speech.  Later, when we moved out of base housing and into a rural NC town, this made me a target of ridicule from other kids, and even from some adults.  I realized later that, because of those speech patterns and my choices of slang, people expected me to be rude and self-centered… a common stereotype of northerners in the South.

Under that pressure, it didn’t take long for me to revert to my native Southernese, although I’ve been told that I never had a particularly heavy accent.  (Of course that’s another stereotype, since there’s a staggering variety of southern accents and mannerisms.  In my ancestral home of southeastern NC, the accent is pretty mild and even carries a slight English cast.)  The accent is, apparently, noticeable though.  In several instances, based solely on my speech, I’ve been taken for a country rube by individuals whose IQ I could probably fit in my shoe with room for a little newspaper.  Some other people hear my accent and think it’s OK to say racist things because, as a white man from the South I must think like that too.

For a long time, I struggled to hide or cover any traces of my accent.  As something of a linguistic chameleon, I learned to adopt the cadence of the local speech (and occasionally still catch myself doing it, especially with hispanics or brits).  For a while, I’d have challenged anyone to figure out where I came from.

But then I realized that by denying my inherited speech patterns, I was denying who I am.  I hadn’t overcome the stereotypes.  I’d succumbed to them and made them stronger.  I decided to relax, let myself talk the way I talk, and let folks who judged me for it be damned.  It’s their loss, not mine.

As a hunter, I’ve also faced stereotypes.  My reaction has run the gamut, and while I’ve stopped short of denial, I have hidden the fact from public view.  I’ve also played the hunting apologist, doing my best to explain that hunters don’t generally fit the negative images held by so many people.  I’ve tried to portray hunting as something more than recreation… a passion… a spiritual experience…  a natural role.

And despite the truths of all of these variations of the self-portrait, they’re all dishonest.

I hunt for fun… for sport.  I can bury that under all the platitudes and justifications in the world, but nothing changes the bare essence of that fact. 

So there are some pretty good conversations going on right now, both over at Tovar Cerruli’s Mindful Carnivore blog, and at Holly’s NorCal Cazadora blog.  In essence, both Tovar and Holly are pretty strongly opposed to the use of the word “sport” in reference to hunting.  The conversations, particularly on Tovar’s site, are fairly intense.  And erudite.  But don’t be scared… lofty language doesn’t necessarily equate to snobbery.  Nevermind your preconceptions.  Some people just talk funny.

The essence of the discussion is that, for some non-hunters, “sport hunting” equates to an equally maligned (and misused) term… ”trophy hunting.”  The stereotypical “sport” hunter or “trophy” hunter just gets out there to kill magnificent specimens in order to hang their heads, teeth, or skins on the wall.  He doesn’t eat what he kills.  There’s the idea that the “sport hunter” runs around killing with glee, giggling and wetting his pants as the carnage stacks up around him.

Of course, the anti-hunters dogpile the issue.  Not only are the “sport hunters” thrill killers, they’re also using killing to replace sexual domination.  It’s a penetrative metaphor.  Firearms are phallic representations, and shooting an animal… plunging your bullet or arrow into its hot, vital essence is all about… well, I’m hoping you get the idea.  If not, shoot me an email and I’ll spell it out for you.  But in short, a hot day of dove hunting, or an afternoon shoot over a colony of ground squirrels is nothing short of an orgiastic experience.  At least it is if you follow the logic.

Getting a little nonsensical?

Claiming that hunting is not sport doesn’t change a thing.  What’s worse, is that it’s completely untrue.  I’ve offended a lot of good people by saying this, and while that’s not my intent I stand by it.  It is intellectual dishonesty… a well-intentioned but misguided effort to hide the deeper reality that hunting as it is practiced by most modern people is a recreational pursuit, no different than golf or mountain climbing (except, of course, that hunters sometimes kill things).

The intent, as I understand it, is to counter the stereotypes I mentioned above.  But if the stereotypes are nonsense, then can you really disable them with logic?  And if your logic is based on a fallacy or an effort to obscure the truth, what kind of argument is that anyway?  Changing the language doesn’t change the reality, any more than changing my accent changed my intelligence (for better or worse).  You’re not countering the stereotypes by avoiding the word that elicits them, you’re just  avoiding the issue. 

Holly wrote about meeting a woman who, on learning that she hunted, asked if she hunted for meat or for sport.  Rather than challenge the false dichotomy, she gave in to something else.  “I hunt for meat,” she answered.

Hey, it’s the easy road.  Even wildlife tends to follow the path of least resistance.  But does that change anything?

It doesn’t.

What it does is let Holly set herself apart from the stereotype of those ”other” hunters.   It also reinforces the stereotypes in the mind of her antagonist.  Holly’s denial confirms the existence of this class of “sport hunters” and all the baggage that goes with it.  In the eyes of that stranger, Holly is merely an exception… an anomaly.

Tovar essentially takes the same road in his argument.  Like Holly, he keeps things on a personal level.  He says he wants people to understand how HE sees things, and that to HIM hunting is not a “sport” in the way some people think of it.  He chooses to couch the discussion based on his own experiences and… I’m a little sorry to say… stereotypes.

The end result is the same.  What he’s doing is not going to change the general opinions of anti-hunters or non-hunters, but will simply reinforce the idea that those “other” hunters are bad, but he’s “good”.  He’s not like Them. 

Neither Holly nor Tovar confronts or challenges the stereotype.  They just duck it by refusing to be linguistically linked to it, as if rejecting the label will revise public opinion. 

I’m really not trying to slam Holly or Tovar, or the people who agree with them.  They are good people, and we’re all working through some pretty tricky philosophical territory.  I also think they’re entirely sincere in their words and their efforts.  I just think they’re barking up the wrong tree.

Don’t take my word for it, though.  Go read their blogs and decide for yourself.  Holly’s blog is here, and Tovar’s is here.

Before I begin, however, I must offer a warning to my most politically conservative readers.  Mr. Morford’s columns often lean to the left of… I dunno… Diane Feinstein?  Ghandi?  He’s unapologetically a city boy, and a poster-child for what some folks would call, “San Francisco values.”  For many of you his columns may well cause apoplexy, hysteria, and possibly blindness.  They will certainly create a quickening of the pulse and a moderate-to-severe rise in your blood pressure. 

For my own part, I read his columns pretty regularly.  I usually enjoy his writing even though I find myself diametrically opposed to many of his positions.  For example, Morford is unabashedly opposed to private firearms, and considers hunting a barbaric throwback to our proto-human ancestry.  And it is from this position that he launched his latest column… and spurred me to a convoluted rebuttal/agreement.

To set the stage (because I must), Texas exotic game ranches are now some of the only places in the world with viable, breeding populations of certain species of animals.  Among these are the scimitar horned oryx, now extinct in its native Africa.  Other species, such as the dama gazelle and blackbuck antelope are endangered or at risk in their natural environments.  However, on many Texas game ranches, the species are actually thriving.  Blackbuck have even escaped the confines of the high-fence ranches are ranging widely throughout the Texas Hill Country, along with Axis deer and several species of goats and sheep (e.g. aoudad). 

Hunters from all over the country, and around the world, travel to Texas to hunt these exotic species.  As a result, the hunting industry in some parts of the Lone Star State has become huge business.  In many cases, exotics and wildlife ranches have replaced the venerable cattle ranches.  There’s more money in it, and some of the african plains species are much better adapted to the marginal lands and arid climate of western Texas. 

There has been some concern, possibly well-intentioned, that there should be some protections afforded to these endangered animals on the hunting ranches.  The thinking is that if the well-being of the animals is directly influenced by their profitability, then if they become liabilities, the ranches will eliminate them.  In other words, if they’re not earning their keep they’re gone.  The Texas legislature has taken this into consideration, and is now crafting regulations (and restrictions) that are intended to drive the management of endangered exotics.

As one might expect, the legislation has drawn the ire of many ranch-owners, some hunters, and the Safari Club, International.  Earlier this week, like many outdoors media sources, I received an email “Alert” from SCI, urging all ranch owners and anyone involved in the industry to get involved and take action.  The email wasn’t particularly specific about what that action should be, nor did it even include a link to the legislation in question.  Since I was already aware of what was going on, and not particularly involved or educated, I chose not to make it another Hog Blog topic, and deleted the email.

But somehow (whoever is managing the SCI mailing list may need a kick in the head… or at least a punch in the ear), this same message went to Mark Morford’s email.  Maybe he mentioned SCI in a column at some point, or maybe even spoke to a representative about some other topic and they saved his address.  I don’t know.  But the message predictably triggered a commentary.  However, the commentary itself wasn’t quite as predictable as I’d have expected.

On the predictable side, Morford writes:

Have you heard of these places? Giant ranches where giant men pay giant fees to be driven in luxury SUVs out onto huge swaths of privately owned property in order to shoot carefully bred and relatively tame exotic and/or endangered creatures who never had a chance in the first place? And then they kneel down next to them and grin like caveman as they pose for revolting photos atop a very, very dead bison, or leopard, or gazelle — a creature who was, minutes prior, pretty much just standing there waiting to be shot because, well, it’s a goddamn game preserve, after all. What are they going to do, run?

Now untwist your drawers for a second.  Did you not read my warning above?  Morford has no mercy for the gun-loving, animal-killing masses and he makes no bones about it.  Of course, to my knowledge he’s never visited an exotics ranch, and he has no real-life experience with what goes on there.  He’s enslaved by his prejudices.  But honestly, who isn’t?

The point is, despite the stereotypical and hyperbolic nature of his description, it’s not all that far-fetched.  Exotics on many of these game ranches are not especially “wild”.  You can (and many operations do) pretty much drive right up, pick the one you want, and pull the trigger.  To be brutally honest, that’s exactly how I shot the scimitar-horned oryx I’m holding in the picture above.  I know this doesn’t jibe with the ideals of sportsmanship held by many in the hunting community, but I’m not going to waste a lot of time with my personal justifications.  In many cases (but definitely not all), that’s how exotics hunting on a preserve plays out. 

But this post isn’t really meant to be about high-fence hunting.

So now the unpredictable aspect of Morford’s column:

But wait. Not so fast, self-righteous liberal columnist. Here is where I admit my own wild hypocrisy, my own complicit nature.

Here is where I humbly remind myself that not only do I eat meat, I do so quite adoringly. Grass-fed and organic and sustainable as possible, reverentially and deeply gratefully and in small and reasonable amounts? Yes. But whatever. Still: meat.

So as not to copy and paste the entire column, I’ll tell you that Morford also writes that he’s a big fan of leather, and even shops at places that feature various exotic animal products, such as skulls and skins.  He recognizes that, by shopping at these places he’s probably supporting some of these very ranches.  Even if he’s not getting actual blood on his hands, he’s still involved.

And there it is.  Sort of…

Morford never backs off in his attack on hunters.  Sorry if I got your hopes up.  I doubt he’ll ever change his attitude about people who shoot guns and kill things for “sport,” because to him, that’s all hunting and shooting will ever mean.  He doesn’t really “get it”, in the way we (hunters) would like to see him get it.  But he at least recognizes that meat and skins and those cool animal skull, wall decorations come at the cost of the lives of these animals, and that his commerce contributes to the selfsame industry he’d like to lambaste.  He’s made the connection and acknowledged his hypocrisy.  That’s something, even if it’s not everything.

What I don’t think he recognizes, however, is that the primitive draw of these products to him and his urban peers… the desire to own the ”gorgeous, sacred gemsbok skull”… is probably rooted in the same drive that affects hunters.  There’s something primally satisfying about a cool skull, a glistening white set of bones, or a finely patterned hide.  It represents something deep in our psyche, even if we can’t put a finger on what that “something” is.  The difference is that while Morford prefers to acquire his trophies in the safe and sterile confines of a fashionable shop, hunters prefer to take things into their own hands… to bear direct responsibility for taking the life that provided that meat, that skin, or that trophy on the wall. It is, certainly, a big difference, and it’s probably irreconcilable. 

It is probably quite true that the desire to hunt and to revel in the trophies of the hunt is a very real throwback to the brutish, visceral appetites of our prehistoric ancestors.  I’ve no doubt that, at many levels, there’s a sense of bravado and conquest in the successful culmination of a hunt even if we filter it in different ways.  I don’t think it matters if that hunt took place from a “Texas trolling tower” in the back of a customized Hummer, or if it was in the deepest jungle of the darkest continent, or if it happened in the aisles of a hip boutique. 

Why deny that part of ourselves?  Who are we trying to fool?

Food for thought from my own random scribblings:

If life is sacred, then life is sacred.  We don’t get to pick and choose which life is more sacred.  If you eat, you must kill, and you must eat if you want life.  Then is killing not also sacred because it gives life?  You can’t have life without death.  Therefore, if every living thing deserves life, then doesn’t it equate that every living thing deserves death? 

Simplify.

Read.  Enjoy.  And nominate.

WINCHESTER ANNOUNCES SPONSORSHIP OF HUNTING MENTOR AWARD

EAST ALTON, Ill.– Each year, all over North America, millions of fond memories are shared between families and friends in the great outdoors. Perhaps no memories are more special than those shared between a new hunter and his or her hunting mentor.

Whether it’s a father teaching a son, a mother teaching a daughter or a friend teaching a friend, the bond formed between a new hunter and his or her first teacher is extraordinary. Because mentoring new hunters is vital to preserving North America’s hunting heritage, the North American Hunting Club (NAHC) created its Mentor of the Year Award in 2010 to honor North America’s most selfless and dedicated hunting mentors.

After a successful first year, the Mentor of the Year Award is back in 2011, and this year, Winchester® Ammunition is pleased to be the official ammunition sponsor of the award.

“As hunters, it’s our duty to mentor others in the outdoor lifestyle and pass on our hunting traditions,” said Brett Flaugher, Winchester Ammunition vice president of marketing and sales. “At Winchester, we want to be first in line to support the preservation of North America’s hunting heritage and we’re proud to sponsor the NAHC’s Mentor of the Year Award.”

As the official ammunition of the Mentor of the Year Award, Winchester Ammunition will contribute prize packages of Winchester gear to the five Mentor of the Year Award finalists and the person who nominates the overall winner.

The nomination period for the award is open until September 30. To nominate someone for the 2011 NAHC Mentor of the Year Award, visit www.nahcmentor.com.

Winchester Ammunition, known for years as The American Legend™, prides itself on being a leader in support of conservation work and the preservation of hunting traditions around the world.

For decades, Winchester Ammunition has supported youth programs and non-profit organizations that are dedicated to growing participation in hunting and shooting sports. These groups include the National Rifle Association, Ducks Unlimited, National Wild Turkey Federation, The Kids and Clays Foundation, the International Hunter Education Association and many more. To learn more about Winchester Ammunition, visit www.winchester.com.

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When I started out to write the How Much is Enough series, I had a specific goal in mind.  I wanted to take some of the most common challenges I hear from anti-hunters and couch them in the terms of a discussion about hunter ethics.  I wondered how it would sound if these same challenges were coming from a hunter… particularly from someone like myself who’s been so deeply involved in many discussions of hunter ethics, as well as discussion and debate with anti-hunters.  I thought it would be an interesting opportunity to see how other folks would rise to the challenge, as well as to see if anyone caught on to the source of my arguments.

I think I fell short.

Part of the problem was timing.  Just as I was getting started on the first post, Tovar put up his Wounded Animals post.  Folks got pretty involved in that very worthwhile discussion, and that didn’t leave a lot of energy or attention for other potentially loaded conversations. 

But the bigger problem was that I think I made it too subtle.  I put a lot of thought into the posts, and a lot of honesty.  While I was going for irony, I do think we need to dig deeper into our motivations and justifications for hunting… and understand where some of our justifications and arguments come from.  As a result, I put a lot of pretty serious personal introspection into the discussion.  I’ve been doing some some pretty intensive soul-searching of my own lately, which also flavored the tone of the posts.  In retrospect, this probably wasn’t the best time for me to try this little exercise.  It’s a little too close to home right now.

So how do I leave this?

First of all, the challenges are real.  Anti-hunters will continue to ask the hard questions, such as how we can justify hunting (which includes killing) as a recreational pursuit, and how we can continue to use methods that we know have a relatively high probability of wounding wildlife (archery, wingshooting, etc.) when we all make claims to be conscientious about making a humane, quick, kill.  They’re hard questions because I think they carry some validity.  A truthful answer is going to require us to examine our motivations and personal ethics pretty closely. 

And that was the goal of the exercise.  I’m not sure I got it there, but it certainly stimulated at least a little bit of pretty serious conversation.  If feelings were hurt or sensibilities offended, I can only say that was never the intent.  It’s not a discussion for the thin-skinned, nor is it one that can be entered obliquely. 

With that last in mind, I wasn’t going to put this redux post up just yet.  However, before I further offend good people like Tovar, I thought I should tip my hand to what I was up to.

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?

The rest of this discussion:

• Part I - Initial Post
• Part II - The Clean Kill Conundrum
• Part III - Paradise or Parking Lot

We owe wildlife a healthy ecosystem.

• This means, among other things, that we take steps to minimize our negative impacts on habitat. It might take restrictions on motorized access to sensitive areas, or it could include the elimination of unnatural food sources that concentrate wildlife activity in small areas or disrupt migration patterns.
• It certainly means we don’t participate in the spread of non-native or invasive species, such as wild hogs or game fish.
• It means we balance our desires against the better health of the resource. Manage how much we take to preserve or control populations. Manage the way we take to protect non-targeted individuals. Manage when we take to protect or preserve natural behaviors such as breeding and migration. Some of this is legislated, and some of it is not. We should not need a law to tell us what is right.

One of the resounding claims of hunters is that we are conservationists. Whenever possible, we point back at Teddy Roosevelt, the original migratory bird hunting laws, or the activities of groups like Ducks Unlimited and the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation. Truthfully, a lot of good work has been done by hunters or our delegates, and much of that work is still ongoing.

But it seems to me that these days, whenever a conservation issue threatens hunting access or opportunity, there’s an overwhelmingly negative outcry from hunters. The sense I get is that there’s a feeling of persecution that overrides any logic or science, and maybe that’s justified. But the end result is that hunters, in general, don’t appear to be very concerned about conservation or the long-term condition of the resource.

Examples?

Designation of wilderness areas that will exclude motorized vehicles is guaranteed to create a furor of hunters claiming that these areas are being closed to them. Since when is hunting supposed to be convenient or easily accessible by off-road vehicles? Wilderness is disappearing at a rapid rate. Shouldn’t we support the preservation of wild, roadless habitat?

The lead ammo ban created a groundswell of activism. Unfortunately, the vast majority of activists were sorely uneducated on the issues… even to the point of not knowing exactly what would be banned or why. A common complaint was that this regulation would only serve, “a stupid, ugly bird that should be extinct anyway.”

Baiting is a topic of concern in places where CWD is prevalent, and while there’s still debate as to the role baited areas play in the transmission and spread of the disease, there are many hunters who are vehemently opposed to regulation that may prohibit the practice. The opposition is based less in any scientific understanding of the potential problems, but instead the focus is that it’s a “backdoor anti-hunting proposal.”

For each of these, there are probably reasonable, scientifically sound, opposing viewpoints and justifications. I’m not disputing that. But those aren’t, by and large, what we’re hearing from the self-proclaimed “conservationists.” What we’re hearing are arguments saying, “we don’t care if we kill non-target species, disrupt natural environments, or enable the spread of disease; as long as we can continue to hunt as much as we want, where we want, and how we want.”

How do we, as hunters, continue to justify this?  Can we continue to justify it?

1. Read the original post.
2. Read Part II.

Based on the responses, I think I hit pretty close.  Now I want to take this conversation to the next stage, starting with the first tenet. 

We owe the animals a quick, clean death.

• This means we use a weapon that will kill efficiently. Whether it’s choosing an appropriate caliber of firearm, or making sure to use proper broadheads, we need to be sure that our weapon is reasonably humane under normal circumstances.
• It also means we become proficient with our chosen weapons, and maintain that proficiency. It’s never enough just to point a gun or bow at your quarry and hope for the best. If you don’t know where your shot will go with high confidence, you have no business shooting at live animals.
• It means we follow-up and finish the job when we can. It’s worth an extra bullet for the coup d’grace on an animal, even when it’s obviously dying. Learn to place a blade properly (and safely), and use it when a bow-shot animal is slow to expire. Club a dying bird, or wring its neck. Hell, as barbaric as it may look, even stomping a wounded bird’s head is better than letting it flap and struggle. Ending the animal’s suffering is more important than the trophy. A qualified taxidermist can fix a bullet hole, or even a stab wound.

We’re human… not perfect.  Like I said before, we miss.  We wound.  Despite our best efforts, we don’t always provide that clean, quick kill.  Sometimes, despite doing everything right, there’s a twig, a gust of wind, or an unexpected movement. 

But the truth is, sometimes we don’t provide our best effort.  We get tired, lazy, or too excited.  We don’t take the time to practice.  We fail to double-check our gear.  And the animals pay the price.  How do we rationalize that?

It’s a tough question. 

Oddly enough, there’s a really good conversation going on this topic over at Tovar’s Mindful Carnivore blog right now, and it’s challenging to read without some serious introspection.  We all know the justifications and excuses, but at the end of it, every time we aim at an animal or bird, we know there’s a chance that the shot will go awry. 

Is it ethical to continue to hunt knowing that we can’t guarantee a clean kill every time?

We’ll tackle the other items on the list one at a time.