Koyukon people follow a code of moral and ethical behavior that keeps a hunter in right relationship to animals. They teach that all nature is spiritual and aware, that it must be treated with respect, and that humans should approach the living world with restraint and humility. Now I struggle to learn if these same principles can apply in my own life and culture. Can we borrow from an ancient wisdom to structure a new relationship between ourselves and the environment? (The Gifts, 118 – 19)
Although the recent turn to hunting among environmental writers may appear anomalous, a review of the historical record reveals that the ties between hunting and the environmental movement have a long-standing history, beginning with the early conservation movement. It is my purpose here to identify and critique the mental and moral framework that underlies these ties.
I assess three major attempts to portray hunting as an activity that is not only morally admissible but morally praiseworthy as well. I focus on the attempt by some hunters and hunting proponents to ground the activity of hunting in ethical discourse — in particular, the discourse of the emerging field of environmental ethics — and on subsequent attempts by environmental thinkers to ground an environmental ethic in the ethical discourse of hunters. My intent is to delve beneath the explicit discourse of “ hunting ethics ” in order to uncover the subtextual ideology and philosophy upon which this discourse is based. In so doing, I hope to examine how the textual discourse on hunting ethics has functioned both to camouflage and to legitimate violence and biocide. In short, I attempt to lay to rest the ethic of the “ good sportsman, ” as well as any notion that hunting may provide a sound conceptual “ resource ” for an environmental ethic, or any ethic at all.
I present a threefold typology of this discourse, based upon the narratives of three varieties of hunters and hunting proponents. I have named the categories the happy hunter , the holist hunter , and the holy hunter . This is not intended as a comprehensive analysis of all hunters; nor does it imply that no overlap exists within or among the categories. With this caveat in mind, the groupings may be summarized in the following way: the happy hunter claims to hunt for recreation and sheer pleasure, the holist hunter for the sake of the environment or the “ biotic whole, ” and the holy hunter for the purpose of spiritual communion.
The hunters under analysis may also be distinguished from three other types of hunters who receive only passing mention in this paper. I have named these the hired hunter , the hungry hunter , and the hostile hunter . The hired hunter may be said to hunt for the sake of commercial profit, the hungry hunter for the sake of food, and the hostile hunter for the purpose of eradicating “ villainous ” animals. The latter three categories represent the attitudes of many white hunters prior to the emergence of the environmental movement. Although it could be argued that the hired, hungry, and hostile hunters did, in fact, operate by an implicit ethical code that sanctioned the killing of animals, this code was never developed as an explicit ethical or environmental discourse in books, journals, articles, etc., as has been the case with the happy, holist, and holy hunters. 3 Nor was it wed to an ideology of ethical restraint.
Although it could also be argued that Native Americans developed an ethical discourse on hunting through their myths and religious views concerning the hunt, they too appear to differ from the hunters in this study. Although generalizations about Native Americans can be made only at great risk, it appears that the primary motive for hunting among Native Americans was for the purpose of obtaining food, and they therefore constitute the prototypical example of the hungry hunter. Although the hunting narratives of the Native Americans bear some similarity to the narratives of the holy hunters, they differ from the holy hunters in that they do not appear to be endorsing the virtues of hunting as an activity in and of itself. 4 One does not hunt in order to attain a particular spiritual or religious state; rather, one hunts, first and foremost, for the purpose of procuring food.
My reasons for avoiding the simple distinction between those who hunt for survival and those who hunt for sport should become apparent in the course of this essay. As we shall see, only one of the categories of hunters in question (i.e., the happy hunter) admits to hunting in the name of sport. One of the common denominators among the three categories of hunters that I examine, however, is that all hunt out of desire, not out of need.
The third category of hunter, the holy hunter, receives the greatest attention in this essay, because I believe the spiritualization of violence engaged in by this category of hunter is particularly insidious. An additional reason for this emphasis is that the language and ideology that surround the “ holy hunt ” bear a disturbing resemblance to that of ecofeminist thought. I examine these apparent similarities and demonstrate that ecofeminist thinking not only differs from that of the holy hunter, but is diametrically opposed to it.
The latter part of the essay also examines the additional insights that an ecofeminist analysis can shed on the discourse of hunting ethics. 5 By all accounts, hunting always has been a predominantly male activity. 6 How have the ideologies and narratives that have surrounded and supported the activity of hunting helped to obscure the gender-specific nature of this activity? Can a subtextual analysis of hunters ’ discourse shed light both on the psychosexual roots of hunting and on the discourse that hunters have developed to justify the hunt? 7 In answering these questions, I hope to identify the violent underpinnings not only of hunting and hunting ethics, but of the environmental movement and the field of environmental ethics as well. In sum, I hope to facilitate the divorce of environmental discourse from its blood-stained marriage to the activity of hunting, thereby exposing the true function of this discourse — namely, the legitimization of violence and biocide; in other words, the license to kill.
Common Themes — The Hunting-Sex Connection
All three varieties of hunters — happy, holist, and holy — believe that the activity of hunting has some redeeming benefit beyond individual satisfaction. Although each category of hunter has a different perception of the nature of this moral benefit, their narratives concerning the actual experience of hunting demonstrate certain common themes. Before turning to the ethical discourse of the three categories of hunters in question, it might, therefore, be helpful to examine these themes.
One of the recurring themes in the descriptions of hunting experiences in all three categories of hunters is the notion that hunting involves a momentary reversion to an earlier period of time before humans became removed from the natural world. Thus, the New Hunter ’ s Encyclopedia states: “ In this modern era hunting has largely become a social pastime — an opportunity to enjoy the companionship of kindred spirits and to commune with nature. Yes, and also to a certain extent, an opportunity to revert to the primitive ” (quoted in Caras, 70). Similarly, D. H. Lawrence, who is cited with approval by deep ecologist George Sessions, bemoans the passing of the pagan era, when man hunted and lived in attunement with nature. In Lawrence ’ s words, “ It is better to be a hunter in the woods of Pan than it is to be a clerk in a city store. The hunter hungered, labored, suffered tortures of fatigue. But at least he lived in a ceaseless living relation to his surroundings ” (227).
At other times, the reversion to a more primeval state is depicted as a return to an animal existence whereby one no longer feels in control. Thus, Ortega y Gassett, a biologist turned philosopher/historian, refers to hunting as a kind of “ vacation from the human condition, achieved through an authentic ‘ immersion in nature ’ ” (121). And Richard Nelson describes the moment at which he makes the decision to kill as one in which a different part of his mind is turned on. In his works, “ it ’ s a whole different way of thinking. It ’ s incredibly elemental ” (Exploring, 38).
For the hunters in question, the primeval, animal-like aspect of hunting is experienced as an instinctive urge which, like the sexual drive, cannot and should not be repressed. 8 Thus, Aldo Leopold, considered by many to be the “ founding father ” of the en
vironmental movement, states, “ The instinct that finds delight in the sight and pursuit of game is bred into the very fiber of the human race ” (Goose Music, 227). Desire for hunting, according to Leopold, lies deeper than other outdoor sports. In his words, “ its source is a matter of instinct as well as of competition ” (Goose Music, 232). He elaborates, “ A son of Robinson Crusoe, having never seen a racket, might get along nicely without one, but he would be pretty sure to hunt or fish whether or not he were taught to do so ” (Goose Music, 232). In other words, for Leopold, a boy instinctively learns to shoot a gun and, moreover, instinctively wants to hunt and kill!
For many writers, the activity of hunting is not only essential for the attainment of full manhood, it is integral to the development of one ’ s status as a full human being. 9 Thus, Paul Shepard states, “ man is in part carnivore: the male of the species is genetically programmed to pursue, attack and kill for food. To the extent that men do not do so they are not fully human ” ( Tender Carnivore , 122 – 23). Similarly, Leopold claims:
A man may not care for gold and still be human but the man who does not like to see, hunt, photograph or otherwise outwit birds and animals is hardly normal. He is supercivilized, and I for one do not know how to deal with him. (Goose Music, 227)
Sexual overtones, both subtle and explicit, can be found throughout many of the narratives of all three categories of hunters. Thus, Richard Nelson describes his encounter with a deer in these words:
I am a hunter hovering near his prey and a watcher craving inhuman love, torn between the deepest impulses, hot and shallow-breathed and seething with unreconciled intent . . . I am consumed with a sense of her perfect elegance in the brilliant light. (The Gifts of Deer, in The Island Within , 274)
The recurring theme throughout the course was self-control. In the words of the instructor, “ Control is the name of the game. You lose control and you ’ ve been had. ” The importance of using the safety catch also was emphasized repeatedly. We were told that it was “ easy to become excited ” and to overlook the importance of this device. “ Buck fever, ” according to the instructor, was a normal phenomenon that occurs “ when your adrenalin starts pumping and you lose your common sense. ” The instructor proclaimed that it was, indeed, exciting to see an animal in the woods. “ Even without a firearm, ” he conceded, it can be exciting. “ It is for this reason that you must always use your safety catch. It is too easy to let your emotions carry you away, ” he cautioned. It is especially easy “ when you are sitting alone in the woods, daydreaming about that ten-point buck that you would like to bag. But you must remember your safety catch, ” he cautioned over and over again. After numerous repetitions of this theme, it finally occurred to me where I had heard a similar refrain. The hunter-safety training class had all the trappings of a sex-education class. “ Don ’ t let your emotions carry you away . . . you must remember your condom ” (or, rather, safety-catch). Substitute a few words, shuffle gender and species around, and the sentiment remains the same: the sexual urge must be exercised with control.
More explicitly, Leopold writes that he “ tingled ” at the recollection of the big gander that sailed honking into his decoys (Goose Music, 229); and Ortega y Gassett writes of the “ exquisite ” feel of the air that “ glides over the skin and enters the lungs ” (123). At other times, both write of hunting in more heated terms, using such words as “ hunting fever ” and the “ drama ” and “ contagion ” of the hunt. Indeed Ortega y Gassett goes so far as to assert the “ unequaled orgiastic power ” of blood, contending that wildlife photography is to hunting what Platonic love is to the real thing (92, 121).
The ethical discourse that I am examining here is predicated on the notion of restraining this aggressive, sexual energy and channeling it in appropriate ways. 10 Hunting itself is seen as an appropriate means of directing this erotic, aggressive drive, toward an acceptable target — namely, a nonhuman animal — rather than a human being. Thus, one hunter profiled in a booklet on Values in Hunting maintained, “ Killing a deer is a relief; it takes out inhibitions, and it ’ s good to take it out on animals ” (quoted in Caras, 143). The environmental philosopher Holmes Rolston is more explicit in his assessment of hunting as a safety valve for sexual energy. He argues that “ the sport hunt sublimates the drive for conquest, a drive without which humans could not have survived, without which we cannot be civilized ” and goes on to conclude, “ Perhaps the hunting drive, like the sexual urge, is dangerous to suppress and must be reckoned with ” (91).
Although many hunters downplay the actual moment of the kill, most concede that it is an integral part of the hunt. Just as the male orgasm typically is seen as the denouement to the act of sex, so too, the death of the animal is seen as the narrative resolution of the hunt. Both the hunt and the sexual act are premised on the notion of the buildup of tension; the orgasm and the kill provide the sought-after relief. Significantly, in a frequently cited passage, Ortega y Gassett, claims that “ one does not hunt in order to kill; one kills in order to have hunted ” (96 – 97). Without the pursuit of orgasm, sex typically is thought to have no meaning or narrative structure; 11 without the intent to kill, the hunt, we are told, has none as well. 12
A personal anecdote may help shed some light on the hunting-sex connection and thus on the rudiments of the ethic of self-restraint to which we shall subsequently turn. A number of years ago, I had the occasion to attend a hunter safety training course, a course that is required for every hunter to obtain a hunting license. 13 The instructor of the course, a Vietnam veteran, began by making several references to his “ Bambi-loving wife ” who, he joked, sometimes complained that he “ loved his guns more than he loved her. ” It was the nature of the terminology used by the instructor, however, that was the most revealing. Bullets were called “ balls, ” firing was called “ discharge, ” and when a bullet hit an animal it was called “ penetration. ” The power of a gun was referred to as its “ penetration power. ” If a bullet was accidentally fired before the intended moment, it was labeled a “ premature discharge. ” The law of “ first blood ” was also explained to us. According to an unwritten law, which is recognized by the Fish and Game department, whoever first “ penetrates ” an animal and draws the “ first blood ” has the “ privilege ” of “ finishing the animal off, ” and claiming the body of the animal as his own. The law of “ first blood ” had a familiar ring.
And, according to Lewis Mumford, hunting “ opens up all one ’ s senses, one ’ s ears as well as one ’ s eyes . . . [it] creates a silent communion between hunters, following their common purposes, akin to that which lovers enjoy ” (95). And in the mind of Randall Eaton, the hunter “ loves the animal he kills ” (The Hunter as Alert Man, 110).
Having identified the major common ground in the experiences of all three categories of hunters, we are now in a position to examine the ethical code that is designed to reframe (or contain) these experiences. As we shall see, all three ethical codes are predicated on the need to harness an aggressive, sexual energy and to channel it in appropriate ways. In their distinctive fashion, all three ethical codes are thus premised on the notion of emotional and sexual restraint.
The Ethical Discourse of Hunters
Narrative 1: The Happy Hunter
The first category of hunter, the happy hunter, freely admits to the pleasure he derives from the hunt. For the happy hunter, hunting is a form of recreation or sport; the animal killed is literally called “ game. ” In the United States, the conception of hunting as a pleasurable, recreational activity emerged in the middle of the nineteenth century in response to increased urbanization and leisure time (Wilson, 24 – 25). This new “ ethical ” conception of hunting stood in stark contrast to an earlier attitude, which viewed hunting as a means of procuring meat and saw those who hunted for pleasure as worthy of scorn.
The stigma attached to the notion of deriving pleasure from violence has a long religious history. 14 The Puritans of New E
ngland viewed blood sports as frivolous activities on a par with gambling and other forms of “ irresponsible pastimes. ” 15 Although the Puritans viewed the use of animals as “ Man ’ s ” God-given right, the enjoyment of violence, like the enjoyment of sex, was seen as something to be shunned. The new ethical discourse was developed expressly to outline the parameters within which hunting for pleasure could be viewed as an ethical , even praiseworthy activity. It was from this marriage of hunting to ethical discourse that the environmental movement was born.
Despite disagreement over the extent of hunters ’ involvement, few historians deny that hunters played a significant role in the development of the early conservation movement. According to the historian John Reiger, hunters “ spearheaded the early conservation movement ” (54). 16 In Reiger ’ s view, it was the hunters ’ response to the disappearance in region after region of “ game ” fishes, birds, and mammals, not concern for the forest, that generated the American conservation movement. Not surprisingly, the motive behind their effort was hardly altruistic. Hunters in the mid-nineteenth century had become increasingly distressed to find themselves in competition with commercial hunters and fishermen for the dwindling numbers of “ game ” animals. During the 1870s and 1880s, hunters responded to this situation by successfully lobbying local and state associations to pass laws to limit and regulate sport and market hunting. Significantly, the vast majority of the early environmentalists were avid hunters, anxious to ensure that enough wildlife remained to hunt. Environmental thinking was still in its early stages of development. Few appreciated the vital role played by predators in maintaining biological integrity and balance. In many cases, hunters were intent on eliminating as many predators as possible in an effort to enlarge the number of prey animals that they could kill.
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