Saturday, March 24, 2018

The Evolving Ethics of a Young American Hunter

      There I sat, 20 yards from a gravel road along a wooded stream bed. To my left and right were men in blaze orange just like me. Each of us waiting for the ‘pushers’ to drive deer towards the ‘standers’. An owl perched in the tree above me, intently watching the rabbit-lined mad bomber hat that I was wearing. Before long the owl flew off with a start and I heard brush crashing as 4 does ran within 15 yards of me. 5 discharged slugs and one blood-trail later there was red-snow everywhere and three deer laying in the bed of a pickup.

What is the definition of an ethical hunter? As a kid I strived to be just that, but what does that look like? Ask one hundred sportsmen and you will probably receive one hundred different answers. And likely, not one of them is wrong.

At the time of this hunt I was stoked. I had just done what I had only heard my dad and his friends talk about, a triple! I was responsible for providing three deer for my family and the families of the hunters I spent that day with and a memory to share as well. This is the form of hunting I knew.

            I grew up chasing most species of game in Iowa but it was the whitetail that captured my attention throughout the year. I lived in the city and the closest property we hunted was at least 45 minutes away. Generally, my father and I were the classic weekend warriors. Getting up hours before dawn and getting home a couple hours after the sun had set on Saturdays. Opportunity for us was limited forcing us to take advantage of the time we did have in the field.

 In Iowa, the big season of the year for deer is shotgun. Now, imagine a 12-year-old hauling around a 20-gauge 870 with iron sights. Needless to say, my lethality was limited by both range and skillset. With my mentor, my father, being introduced to the sport with deer drives, I thought nothing of taking shots at running deer. As much as we appreciated the game, the habitat and the experience, deer were aplenty and generally were not regarded as a particularly scarce resource. To illustrate the deer’s population where I grew up hunting, I had heard from farmers whose land we hunted, “if you shoot one and it runs off, leave it and find another” or as one land owner half-jokingly put it, “you only have to pay to hunt on my property if you don’t shoot a deer”.

            Over the last several years, particularly while at college, I have been exposed to numerous techniques of harvesting animals, most in geographically distinct places from the Midwest. These have been personal experiences, talking with close friends, listening to passionate and popular outdoorsman on podcasts and watching shows and YouTube videos. The only consistency I have witnessed during this time is that each individual believes that they are an ethical hunter.

             This year, with only 3 days to bow hunt I harvested my first antlered deer with archery equipment which happened to be my second largest buck ever. And yet I felt a hint of guilt for pulling the trigger because he was a 2.5-year-old, an issue I never would have faced without the social pressures felt by an industry that promotes the idea of big mature whitetails and a feeling I would not have felt a few years prior.

Two months later, I drove the six-hours home to hunt shotgun with some of the same guys I had hunted with when I got my ‘triple’. Opening morning found myself watching a young-bedded buck 50 yards away when three deer sprinted by my stand. I took several shots with my now 12 gauge 870 and made a perfect shot when one stopped. A few minutes later, I saw a limping deer circle back around which I finished off. I had made a poor, non-fatal shot and miraculously it came back into range where I could resolve my mistake with a properly placed slug. I walked away from that day once again ecstatic to be able to share this day with friends as my dad had killed one of the biggest deer of his life. Yet, part of me was disgusted with how my part of the hunt unfolded. Then and there I never wanted to make a shot like that again on a big game animal. I have the entire hunt on video, it has been edited with music and voice-over and yet I cannot upload it to the internet due to the embarrassment I feel at the lack of respect I have shown the species I hold so highly.


Ethics is a funny subject really. We have the high-schooler who frowns upon 1,000 yard shots on elk but throws slugs at running deer. And the hunter who waits for the perfect kill shot on an antlered ungulate will not shoot a pheasant or grouse until it gets up to fly away so he can shoot it on the wing. The woman who sits in a blind over bait may frown at the man chasing deer with dogs. For each of us our hunting ethic is defined by our background, primarily where we began hunting, but in the end, it is shaped by an attempt to do right by the animals and the sport we all adore.