Cecil the
lion, before he was a trophy.
Killing animals for fun is an activity which
divides opinion. It can also be a highly emotive issue, with high profile cases
like the death of Cecil
the lion sparking global media coverage and outcry. There were even
calls
for the American dentist who admitted killing Cecil to be charged with illegal
hunting.
But despite the strong feelings it occasionally
provokes, many people may be unaware just how common trophy hunting is. The
International Fund for Animal Welfare (IFAW) reports
that between 2004 and 2014, a total of 107 countries participated in the trophy
hunting business. In that time, it is thought over 200,000 hunting trophies
from threatened species were traded (plus a further 1.7m from non-threatened
animals).
Trophy hunters themselves pay vast sums of money to
do what they do (IFAW claims upwards of $US100,000 for a 21-day big game
hunting trip). But reliable data on the economic benefits this brings to the
countries visited remains limited
and contested.
Now the UK government has announced
it is considering banning the trade of hunting trophies from endangered species
– making it a crime to bring them back into the country.
Advocates of trophy hunting – including major
conservation organisations such as the International
Union for Conservation of Nature and the World
Wide Fund for Nature – argue that hunting wild animals can have major
ecological benefits. Along with some governments,
they claim that “well-managed” trophy hunting is an effective conservation
tool, which can also help local communities.
This argument depends in part on the generation of
significant income from the trophy hunters, which, it is claimed, can then be
reinvested into conservation activities.
The broad idea is that a few (often endangered)
animals are sacrificed for the greater good of species survival and
biodiversity. Local human communities also benefit financially from protecting
animal populations (rather than seeing them as a threat) and may reap
the rewards of employment by hunting operations, providing lodgings
or selling goods.
Indeed, research on trophy hunting does show that
it can produce substantial
financial benefits, is likely to be supported
by local communities, and can be associated with conservation
gains.
But it remains unclear
in exactly what circumstances trophy hunting produces a valuable conservation
benefit. We cannot assume a scheme that works in one country, targeting one
species, under a specific set of circumstances, is applicable to all other
species and locations.
Also, the purported benefits of trophy hunting rely
on sustainable management, investment of profits, and local community
involvement. But given the levels of perceived
corruption and lack of effective
governance in some of the countries where trophy hunting is carried
out, one wonders how likely it is these conditions
can be met.
And if trophy hunting is really so lucrative, there
is every chance the profits will instead be used to line the pockets of rich
(possibly foreign) operators
and officials.
Death and suffering
This brings us to the question of ethics. Just
because an intervention has the potential to produce a social benefit, does not
mean the approach is ethical. And if it is not ethical, should it be considered
a crime?
This is something of regular concern for social
policy. If the evil that a programme introduces is greater than the evil it
purports to reduce, then it is unethical to implement it.
I would argue that even if convincing evidence does
exist that trophy hunting can produce conservation benefits, it is unethical to
cause the death and suffering of individual animals to save a species.
In common with many green criminologists, I take a
critical approach to the study of environmental and animal-related crime. This
means that I am interested in behaviour that can be thought of as harmful, and
may
be worthy of the label “crime”, even if it has not been formally
criminalised.
When considering global harms and those that impact
heavily on the most powerless in society, this approach is particularly
important.
Conservation is concerned with biodiversity and
animal populations. Contrast this with an animal rights or species
justice perspective, where instead of focusing on rights that benefit
humans over all other species, the interests and intrinsic rights of individual
and groups of animals are considered.
From this viewpoint, trophy hunting undoubtedly
causes harm. It brings pain, fear, suffering and death. Add to this the grief,
mourning and fracturing of familial or social groups that is experienced
by animals such as elephants, whales, primates and giraffes. In light of these
harms, trophy hunting is surely worthy of the label “crime”.
Allowing trophy hunting also perpetuates the notion
that animals are lesser than humans. It turns wildlife into a commodity, rather
than living, feeling, autonomous beings – beings that I have argued
should be viewed as victims
of crime.
Anthropocentric
views also facilitate and normalise the exploitation, death and mistreatment of
animals. The harmful effects can be seen in intensive
farming, marine
parks and “canned
hunting”, where (usually lions) are bred in captivity (and sometimes
drugged) as part of trophy hunting operations. Where money can be made from
animals, exploitation, and wildlife crime, seem likely to follow.
Instead, local communities must be involved in
decisions about conservation and land management, but not at the expense of
endangered species, or of individual animals hunted for sport. Alternative
conservation approaches like photo tourism, and schemes to reduce human-animal
conflict must be embraced.
Getting a good shot.
Banning trophy hunting would provide a much needed
incentive to develop creative conservation approaches to wildlife protection
and human-animal co-existence. And there is still substantial
conservation income to be earned without resorting to trophy hunting.
So governments around the world should introduce
bans on trophy imports – alongside providing support for alternative, ethical
developments that benefit both wild animals and local communities. Anything
less is complicit support of a crime against some of the world’s most
vulnerable wildlife.
Melanie
Flynn, Senior lecturer in Criminology, University
of Huddersfield
This article is republished from The Conversation
under a Creative Commons license. Read the original
article.
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