To its logical extreme by John C. Street

Before proceeding to the meat of this essay, please be advised this is not an argument either for or against any type of hunting implement or any variation (muzzleloader, center fire rifle, long bow cross bow or compound) of the myriad implements that are prescribed in the Hunting and Trapping Digest as legal for the taking of game.

The subject of this essay, as the title above suggests, is the “logical extremes” that have evolved within the written rules that guide our time afield. 

As hunters, we are all aware of the rules that tell us what we can and can not do and when we can and can not do them.  Foremost of these rules, of course, is the Game and Wildlife Code which, in abbreviated form, comes to us as the “Hunting and Trapping Digest” that we all receive when we purchase a license.

We also have the written – and intuitively understandable - edict of Fair Chase which, as codified by the Boone and Crockett Club, “is the ethical, sportsmanlike, and lawful pursuit and taking of any free-ranging wild, native North American big game animal in a manner that does not give the hunter an improper advantage over such animals.”

As constrictive as these published rules and regulations may sound, however, they leave a lot of personal wiggle-room as to what we can and can not do while in the act of hunting.  While this may not be obvious from the perspective of any particular snapshot in time, it is quite apparent when viewed over the course of decades.  Think of the advances in equipment, for instance, that range from the ubiquitous use of ATVs to all the synthetic materials currently being used in everything from rifle stocks and arrow shafts to the very clothing we wear.

Whether the application of technology is for better or worse is unknown and most likely unknowable.  History suggests that only the passage of time will yield an accurate answer.  But perhaps we can speculate on the answer if we consider that sometimes “The best way to determine the validity of an idea is to take it to its logical extreme.”

Although the subject is anathema in the outdoor media, the question that is being asked by an increasingly larger, non-participating public is whether hunting is either necessary or even desirable in these modern times.  As unsettling as this question is to even contemplate, it forces an examination of an even more elemental conundrum; can the activities portrayed on the outdoor television shows and in the hook ‘n bullet press even be considered hunting? 

Assuming the genetically encoded act of finding and killing an animal to eat is still a defendable part of the human genome (as many learned anthropologists claim it is), does shooting an animal simply or primarily for its horns, teeth, antlers or ivory qualify as hunting?  How about shooting live animals such as coyotes, crows or groundhogs – that we have no intention of eating – simply to win a competition?  Is this hunting or is it, as some intellectual opponents of hunting claim, nothing more than the premeditated killing of a pre-selected animal for personal aggrandizement?  And should we even be concerned with the difference?

Outdoor writers featured in the prominent hook ‘n bullet press repeatedly admonish that we must not expose – let alone discuss openly and honestly – our differences lest the Antis divide and destroy us.  This all-for-one-and-one-for-all attitude may be good for – and is, in fact, promoted by - all the commercial interests that sell gadgets and gizmos to hunters but it is this really what hunting is about?  Feeding our ego (making “The Book” or winning a prize) is a far cry from filling our bellies and asking that we join hands and sing, “We’re all just hunting, Lord, kumbaya,” doesn’t immunize us from the legitimate criticism that grows louder with each passing day, it only reinforces the argument of our critics.

It is impossible for anyone, least of all this scribe, to look into another hunter’s heart and mind and determine their motives.  It is possible, however, for anyone to look at the direction we are taking and determine that, from all outward appearances, what we are doing looks more like a high-tech assault on wildlife than hunting.  

And that begs the most troubling question of all; have we already reached our “logical extreme?”  Can we honestly face our critics and claim we are engaged in “the ethical, sportsmanlike, and lawful pursuit and taking of any free-ranging wild, native North American big game animal in a manner that does not give the hunter an improper advantage over such animals.”

Or is the entirety of our argument, “We’re all just hunting, Lord, kumbaya?”