I am a trophy hunter. There, I said it, and it is true. If you want to stop reading here, I understand, but please don’t. The public perception of trophy hunting is abysmal and so is the viewpoint of the trophy hunter. Trophy hunters are portrayed as heartless, gutless, and spineless. Maybe more damningly, wealthy and exploitative. Yes, I agree hunting animals raised in captivity only to be put in a pen for someone to pay $45,000 to kill is unsettling. Even the most seasoned and pragmatic hunters I know struggle with this activity being viewed in the world as hunting. This is just another example of what our grandmothers used to say to all of us when we threw a ball in the house. “This is why we can’t have nice things!”
The term “trophy hunter” has been drug through the mud, villainized, and weaponized so much it is now a taboo phrase even amongst hunters. There have been social media smear campaigns that shame and threaten hunters. Death threats to hunters themselves and their families. These blitzes have targeted everyone from a middle-aged dentist, to a 17-year-old girl. They condemn what they consider violence toward animals, by being violent towards humans. The paradoxes abound.
There is a documentary that is currently on Netflix entitled The Women Who Kill Lions. The filmmakers are British, and chronicle two women who have received harsh criticism for posting their trophy photos online. Both women take far different approaches to the criticism. It’s somewhat of an informative watch, but the biases of the filmmaker are incredibly noticeable. One of the large arguments in the film deals with the Patrilineal bias discussion about how it is less likely that these comments would happen if they were men. I probably agree, however, that is an argument for another time.
We could dig into the systematic destruction of hunting in America, or the bending of our moral compass to the whim of social media, but that would take way too long. The only point I am trying to make here is simple and unavoidable. Trophy hunting needs a PR makeover. The Deer Association study of hunting approval, has hunting for food at 84%, but hunting “for a trophy” drops to 29%. A 55% drop. What I take from this is 16% of those polled oppose all hunting period. That’s your prerogative and more power to you. I do have questions for you who find yourself in that 55% – those of you that are ok with hunting for food, but not for a trophy. What exactly do you consider trophy hunting?
Trophies, in and of themselves are physical symbols that represent overcoming obstacles to accomplish a goal. In team sports, precious metal versions of footballs, nets, and pennants are given out in a sea of confetti. Every walk of life has its own form of trophy. Serial travelers look to fill a passport book or get a particular stamp. Wine aficionados keep corks from special bottles and special occasions. Musicians have gold records and golfers display the ball used for a hole in one. We all keep memorabilia of success. As hunters, our visual reminder of the struggle and subsequent triumph isn’t gold and bejeweled, because our “game” isn’t shiny. We as hunters deal in dirt and mud, blood and bones, life and death. The realness of our “sport” leaves no room for gravitas. When success is found, something loses its life and it is sobering to truly realize your predatory nature. We as a species, have tried to wash our hands of the reality of our place in the world. To win a metal football, it takes a sacrifice of time, energy, and sweat. To win a trophy in hunting, it takes a sacrifice of time, energy, sweat, and life.
There doesn’t need to be a distinction between a meat hunter and a trophy hunter. Why can’t we live in a world where trophies also fill freezers? We will always have some codger out there somewhere saying he’d rather shoot a button buck than a big 8 point. “You can’t eat antlers”. “The little ones eat better”, and maybe that’s true. So, when I say, “I am a trophy hunter,” this is what I mean.
I am constantly collecting trophies from my expeditions. Sometimes the trophy is meat laid like gold bricks in my freezer. Sometimes it’s both meat in my freezer and larger antlers on my wall. Sometimes my trophy is donating a deer so that the less fortunate in my community get a chance to eat the same high-quality meat I feed my family. Most of the time though, my trophy is simply being out and seeing nature unfold. Being able to legitimately be a fly on the wall and see the world turn around you as if you weren’t there.
If you spend your life following any pursuit, you will always want to push yourself farther, climb higher, and do more and more challenging things. It’s only natural. So, when we try and harvest, bigger older bucks, we do a few things simultaneously. We increase the degree of difficulty, and we increase our time we get to spend in the field. It is more difficult because there are fewer large mature males of any species, and who doesn’t want to spend more time hunting?
It’s important to me for people to understand and appreciate the nuances that keep me hunting. I have started, stopped and reconfigured these thoughts at least two dozen times and have yet to scratch the surface of what makes hunting so special. Yes, savagery and brutality are required, but there is not a non-hunter alive that invests more for these creatures or loves them deeper. If I am to be judged by God, the universe, Karma, or any other higher power for hunting and for the manner in which I hunt, then I accept that fully. If you come to my house and see these “trophies” on my wall, they aren’t there as a braggart. They are not a macho display of by besting of nature, or my victory over lesser beings. They are there to remind me of my place in the natural world, how I am active in the process of earths turning, and how death begets life.
This brings to mind Thomas McGuane’s famous conversation with an anti-hunter, from The Heart of the Game.
“What did a deer ever do to you?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m serious. What do you have to go and kill them for?”
“I can’t explain it talking like this.”
“Why should they die for you? Would you die for deer?”
“If it came to that.”
A Day in the Field 