http://www.thesudburystar.com/ArticleDisplay.aspx?e=704294&auth=Ball,+Gary
Explaining hunting to non-hunters
Posted By Ball, Gary
Posted 1 hour ago
A man I admire very much, a passionate hunter,
wildlife scientist, scholar and teacher perhaps sums
it all up best in a line which ends virtually all of
his correspondence, e-mail or snail-mail.
He writes: "For those who understand, no explanation
is necessary and for those who do not, none is
possible."
This is a pretty blunt encapsulation of the thinking
hunter's dilemma. How do we explain hunting to
non-hunters?
I've spent a lot of time in my life trying to explain
the gap which divides those of us who hunt and those
who do not hunt. I'm not sure that I have had any
success at all, despite all that I have written.
Almost invariably, those who don't like hunting focus
on killing, on taking the life of a living creature.
When I try to explain hunting, I focus on almost
everything but the actual killing. To kill or not to
kill is the question which divides us, and one which
will likely continue to divide us.
I am the descendant of generation upon generation of
successful hunters. When I hunt, I connect in a
deliberate and conscious way with my ancestors, my
heritage and my environment. I am the only creature in
the planet's food chain capable of making a reasoned
decision to take or to spare the life of another
creature. I am the only predator in the ecosystem with
a rational understanding of my impact upon that
system. I am the only predator capable of deliberately
choosing to assist in the survival of another species.
I make those choices because I am a hunter, because I
am connected with my ecosystem in the most intimate
way, through the cycle of life, death and rebirth.
I know first hand where the meat on my table comes
from.
I am not isolated from the food chain by an assembly
line of hired hands: producers, slaughterhouse
workers, butchers, packers, truckers and supermarket
owners. I am aware of how and why wild things die.
And, because of that intimacy with life and death, I
am aware of all the other ways I impact upon the wild
creatures with whom I share the planet.
More than a decade ago, I was doing an off-the-cuff
seminar with a group of students who had just entered
Toronto's secondary school system. The seminar had
nothing to do with hunting or fishing, the things
urban people call consumptive uses of wildlife.
However, the students knew I hunted and fished and
made a significant part of my living writing about
hunting and fishing. The students let me know very
directly that they considered my hunting to be
appalling. So we talked, at least briefly, about my
impact on the environment as a hunter and about their
impact, as "non-consumptive" city dwellers.
I told them that the deer I convert to meat this fall
(if I'm lucky) and the ducks and geese which fall to
my gun can be replaced by natural reproduction as long
as humans leave them suitable habitat in which to
live.
I also told them about the Toronto of years ago, of
the years before the 400 series highways, the Don
Valley Parkway and high-rise development.
"The deer that I shoot, the ducks, geese, grouse or
rabbits which end up on my table," I said, "can be
replaced by this time next year, if we allow wild
creatures the places and spaces they need.
"However, habitat that we take over for human use is
lost to these wild things forever. There is not a
single square foot of concrete or pavement in the City
of Toronto that will ever again produce natural living
space for a duck, a grouse, a deer, a rabbit, a fox or
a coyote."
My students were a little astounded. They had simply
never thought of the places where they live, play and
go to school as having been wildlife habitat. Wildlife
habitat was, for them, some remote place, a place such
as Temagami.
That explains, perhaps, why those who live in concrete
canyons are so involved in giving advice to the people
who live and work in the wilder places such as
Temagami. These people are simply not aware that they
are a part of the natural cycle of life and death.
Death is the natural culmination of the process which
begins at birth. It comes to all living things: trees,
plants, insects, songbirds, deer, bear and people. All
of us who call ourselves human kill other living
creatures simply by displacing them.
Those who choose not to hunt usually kill by omission,
by ignoring human impact on the ecosystem, by turning
wildlife habitat into highways, homes and parking
lots.
Those of us who hunt, who make the conscious decision
to take the life of another creature for our own use,
accept responsibility for what we do. We are thinking
predators. We can ensure that there are always wild
places and wild creatures. We are a part of the
system.
editorial@thesudburystar.com
Explaining hunting to non-hunters
Posted By Ball, Gary
Posted 1 hour ago
A man I admire very much, a passionate hunter,
wildlife scientist, scholar and teacher perhaps sums
it all up best in a line which ends virtually all of
his correspondence, e-mail or snail-mail.
He writes: "For those who understand, no explanation
is necessary and for those who do not, none is
possible."
This is a pretty blunt encapsulation of the thinking
hunter's dilemma. How do we explain hunting to
non-hunters?
I've spent a lot of time in my life trying to explain
the gap which divides those of us who hunt and those
who do not hunt. I'm not sure that I have had any
success at all, despite all that I have written.
Almost invariably, those who don't like hunting focus
on killing, on taking the life of a living creature.
When I try to explain hunting, I focus on almost
everything but the actual killing. To kill or not to
kill is the question which divides us, and one which
will likely continue to divide us.
I am the descendant of generation upon generation of
successful hunters. When I hunt, I connect in a
deliberate and conscious way with my ancestors, my
heritage and my environment. I am the only creature in
the planet's food chain capable of making a reasoned
decision to take or to spare the life of another
creature. I am the only predator in the ecosystem with
a rational understanding of my impact upon that
system. I am the only predator capable of deliberately
choosing to assist in the survival of another species.
I make those choices because I am a hunter, because I
am connected with my ecosystem in the most intimate
way, through the cycle of life, death and rebirth.
I know first hand where the meat on my table comes
from.
I am not isolated from the food chain by an assembly
line of hired hands: producers, slaughterhouse
workers, butchers, packers, truckers and supermarket
owners. I am aware of how and why wild things die.
And, because of that intimacy with life and death, I
am aware of all the other ways I impact upon the wild
creatures with whom I share the planet.
More than a decade ago, I was doing an off-the-cuff
seminar with a group of students who had just entered
Toronto's secondary school system. The seminar had
nothing to do with hunting or fishing, the things
urban people call consumptive uses of wildlife.
However, the students knew I hunted and fished and
made a significant part of my living writing about
hunting and fishing. The students let me know very
directly that they considered my hunting to be
appalling. So we talked, at least briefly, about my
impact on the environment as a hunter and about their
impact, as "non-consumptive" city dwellers.
I told them that the deer I convert to meat this fall
(if I'm lucky) and the ducks and geese which fall to
my gun can be replaced by natural reproduction as long
as humans leave them suitable habitat in which to
live.
I also told them about the Toronto of years ago, of
the years before the 400 series highways, the Don
Valley Parkway and high-rise development.
"The deer that I shoot, the ducks, geese, grouse or
rabbits which end up on my table," I said, "can be
replaced by this time next year, if we allow wild
creatures the places and spaces they need.
"However, habitat that we take over for human use is
lost to these wild things forever. There is not a
single square foot of concrete or pavement in the City
of Toronto that will ever again produce natural living
space for a duck, a grouse, a deer, a rabbit, a fox or
a coyote."
My students were a little astounded. They had simply
never thought of the places where they live, play and
go to school as having been wildlife habitat. Wildlife
habitat was, for them, some remote place, a place such
as Temagami.
That explains, perhaps, why those who live in concrete
canyons are so involved in giving advice to the people
who live and work in the wilder places such as
Temagami. These people are simply not aware that they
are a part of the natural cycle of life and death.
Death is the natural culmination of the process which
begins at birth. It comes to all living things: trees,
plants, insects, songbirds, deer, bear and people. All
of us who call ourselves human kill other living
creatures simply by displacing them.
Those who choose not to hunt usually kill by omission,
by ignoring human impact on the ecosystem, by turning
wildlife habitat into highways, homes and parking
lots.
Those of us who hunt, who make the conscious decision
to take the life of another creature for our own use,
accept responsibility for what we do. We are thinking
predators. We can ensure that there are always wild
places and wild creatures. We are a part of the
system.
editorial@thesudburystar.com
