By Dr. Robert (Bob) Brown, Professional Member 

Exploring the line between Fair Chase, modern technology, and personal ethics
 

Ethical conduct has been a centerpiece of the Boone & Crockett Club’s approach to conservation from its inception. Many hunters know the history of the Club and the eventual results of game laws, scientific research, hunter education efforts and land conservation that grew out of the concern of our early members and others.

This was brought on by the hunters themselves, decrying the wanton destruction of first, wild mammals and waterfowl, then habitats, and finally non-game species and those heading towards extinction.

The Club’s definition of hunting ethics is rooted in the concept of Fair Chase, and it demands that wild game be pursued in a manner that does not give the hunter an improper or unfair advantage. Pioneered by Theodore Roosevelt himself, this principle forms the bedrock of modern conservation ethics. But the dictionary says that ethics constitutes behavior governed by external forces—like laws, family traditions, or society. Morals, on the other hand, are determined by one’s own internal compass regarding right and wrong.

Cultural shifts, experiences, and both public and hunters’ attitudes change over time. A smaller proportion of our U.S. population now hunts (4.8%) than watches birds (37%, USFWS). The non-hunting public is watching what we do more closely now. I’ve recently seen celebrity ads on social media against trophy hunting. And yet, just as technology has advanced in so many other ways, it has advanced in our ability to find and harvest game. Should we be concerned? Have our ethics or morals changed? Should they?

Teaching Ethics and the Slippery Slope

Many years ago I wrote articles for this and other magazines on hunting ethics. For about 40 years I gave lectures to wildlife students across several universities, including Texas A&M, Mississippi State, and North Carolina State. About half of those students were women, and of both men and women, at least half had never been hunting. Perhaps surprisingly, I’ve never encountered an anti-hunter in one of those classes (or at least they wouldn’t admit it in that class). I’m confident they wouldn’t have that attitude after four years of education in wildlife management.

In my lectures, I’d ask how many students had been fishing (most), how many had been hunting (always less than half), and were any anti-hunting (again, none, ever). I provided a sloping graph, indicating what I thought was the slippery slope from being an ethical hunter, to being an unethical hunter—or as I called him/her, just a “shooter.” I’d ask the students, “which of these devices or techniques used in hunting do you think is unethical?” I’d start with pretty obvious technology, such as rifle scopes and game calls, but then get down to the use of trail cameras and corn feeders. Of course, some of these techniques are illegal in many states, and we’d often have to explain some of the devices to the non-hunters, who had never heard of them. 

Hunters in the class would talk about the need for certain devices or techniques to insure a quick and clean kill, or the need for help in tracking wounded game. Most agreed there might be exceptions for certain techniques for handicapped hunters. Some devices might be considered acceptable alone but not so when combined with another device (such as a telescopic sight within 40 yards of a corn feeder).

This often would lead to a discussion as to what should constitute a primitive weapon. Here I have to admit my own “sins” and prejudices.  Yes, I’ve hunted behind high fences (10,000 acres plus) and over corn feeders. Mea culpa. Those actions may offend some hunters and not others. My prejudices have to do with what constitutes a primitive weapon.  I love my Thompson .50 cal muzzle loading carbine. I use round balls rather than sabots. But an in-line muzzle loader with a scope, and maybe a range finder or red dot?  And what about those crossbows that all seem to have a scope, or even the long bows with lighted sights?  In my mind those are not primitive weapons at all, but others will disagree.

The second part of the discussion featured a graph comparing the traditional domestication of livestock to intensive deer management practices. I questioned whether managing wild game through food plots, supplemental feeding, selective breeding, and eventually artificial insemination and cloning blurs the line between wild game and domestic animals.

Modern Innovations and Domestication

Though I’d eventually admit my own biases, many of these devices and/or techniques are common and generally acceptable.  But what about more recent technological advances–like range finders, red dot or laser scopes, live trail cameras while hunting, devices to enhance hearing, thermal or infrared scopes or cameras, muzzle suppressors, smart scopes, Feeder Repeaters (a hand-held device that makes the sound of a corn feeder–without the corn), and drones to find game? On the domestication side, what about vaccination, drugs to enhance antler growth (yes, Viagra), or the whole trophy hunting gig? The latter might include not only high fencing, but photographing or videotaping game, and marketing specific animals for a specific price, success guaranteed. How close does that come to private ownership?  And is private ownership wrong?

But again, the question is not what is legal, but what do you think is ethical, and more importantly, moral (remember the two definitions). While personal morals guide individual decisions in the field, they ultimately aggregate to shape public perception and the broader societal expectations that govern the future of hunting.

I vividly recall attending the annual Southeast Deer Study Group meeting in Mississippi many years ago. This annual gathering brings together regional wildlife biologists, researchers, and ranch managers to discuss pressing deer management issues. In the evening, they hosted a ”Shootin’ from the Hip” session—an open forum allowing participants to speak candidly on any topic. During that session, regional differences in hunting ethics quickly came to light: the Texans criticized the Mississippi crowd for allowing hunting with dogs, while the Mississippi wildlife folks criticized the Texans for permitting high fences and hunting over bait (though Mississippi has since allowed baiting as well).

These regional debates followed me later in my career. After I’d moved to North Carolina, I was invited back to that same Texas meeting to debate high fences and trophy hunting. My debate opponent was a rancher who proudly referred to his property as a Jurassic Park. Addressing the audience of biologists and ranchers, I posed a simple question: “If you owned a large herd of cattle and several bulls, would it make sense to shoot your best bull every year?” Amazingly, I managed to get back to North Carolina unharmed.

The point is that regardless of legality, hunting ethics and morals remain deeply personal and cultural. What did your family, mentors, and peers consider ethical, even if legal? As state regulations shift, have your own boundaries evolved? How do your past perspectives compare to what you believe today?

Conscience and the Future of Hunting Ethics

Renowned conservationist Aldo Leopold defined this concept, stating that “Moral behavior is when you do the right thing when no one else is looking, even when the wrong thing is legal.” He applied this to hunting by writing: “A peculiar virtue of wildlife ethics is that the hunter ordinarily has no gallery to applaud or disapprove of his conduct. Whatever his acts, they are dictated by his own conscience, rather than by a mob of onlookers. It is difficult to exaggerate the importance of this fact.”

So here we stand. Hunting technology has advanced exponentially since the days of Roosevelt and Leopold, while public scrutiny of our sportsmanship continues to intensify. Should we rethink our ethics based on evolving societal expectations and organization standards, or must we rely on our individual moral compass, trusting fellow hunters to uphold shared values?