Is it morally acceptable to kill an animal simply because you can? Or only when you must?
The Line Between Need and Narcissism
I did not grow up around hunters. In fact, I never met my grandfather, though I often imagined him as the kind of man who walked through the bush with quiet strength, setting traps or whispering to the wind before he caught his meal. What I did grow up with was a deep respect for nature. Where I come from, meat was a sacred part of a shared plate, not a sport. If an animal was killed, it was eaten. Nothing was wasted.
That is why I find it hard to stomach stories of hunters who kill elephants just for their tusks. Huge, intelligent creatures reduced to trophies, just so someone somewhere can carve an ornament or fund a black-market luxury. The rest of the carcass? Often left to rot in the sun, flesh untouched, blood soaking into dry soil. An entire being, erased for vanity
Hunting for survival is as old as humanity itself. For Indigenous communities across the Arctic Circle, for groups in Congo, for the Sámi herders in northern Finland, hunting is not a pastime, it is a partnership with nature. The animal is honored. There is often a ritual of thanks. Nothing is wasted.
But hunting for sport? That is where the line starts to blur. It is the act of chasing life for the thrill of taking it. Not for meat. Not for fur. Just for a photo, a wall trophy, or worse, bragging rights.
We often justify it under the guise of “population control” or “conservation.” But I wonder—if someone walked into our homes and killed a pet, or a domestic animal, then left money for our "ecosystem," would we accept it?
Life in Finland: A Culture of Quiet Respect
One of the things that surprised me when I moved to Finland was the stillness of its wilderness. Here, people walk through forests to forage berries, not to conquer beasts. There is no roaring around in jeeps chasing lions. There is no pride in unnecessary death.
In fact, in many parts of Finland, animals are seen almost as neighbors. Foxes are spotted trotting near train stations. Birds are fed through long winters by kind hands. Moose are protected, and when hunting does happen, it is tightly regulated and done with intention; not impulse.
Even road signs here carry compassion, warning you of potential deer crossings not because they fear an insurance claim, but because they do not want you to kill something beautiful.
A Tale of Two Realities
“Some people hunt to stay alive. Others hunt to feel alive.”
In some villages, catching a bush rat means dinner for five. In some cities, shooting an exotic animal means dinner conversation for five. The imbalance is disturbing.
I once saw an online post with a white woman grinning beside a dead giraffe. Her caption read: “Bucket list, check!”
No mention of the meat. No sign of cultural awareness. Just a smile and a thousand likes. It is a far cry from survival. It is a performance of power.
Privilege, Performance, and Pain
We need to talk about privilege. Because that is what this often boils down to.
To kill something because you must; is that survival?
To kill something because you can; is that dominance?
And in between those extremes are people like us watching from the sidelines, asking:
When does tradition become exploitation?
When does conservation become colonization?
If the Animals Could Speak
Imagine this for a moment: what if the animal could talk?
Would the elephant say: “I understand. You were hungry.”
Or would it say: “You pierced my heart for jewelry.”
Would the deer whisper: “You needed to feed your family.”
Or scream: “You hunted me for Instagram.”
It is easy to shrug and say, “That is just how the world works.” But that is not entirely true. We shape the world. We shape our values. And every time we choose empathy over ego, we redraw the lines of what is acceptable.
Final Thoughts: The Arrow You Choose
Ethical dilemmas are rarely solved in one sitting. But they demand sitting with discomfort.
If you hunt, do it with humility.
If you must kill, do it with consciousness.
And if you never need to do either; respect those who do, and question those who abuse it.
Because in the end, every arrow we draw reflects not just how we see animals, but how we see ourselves.
💬 What do you think? Can hunting ever be ethical if it's not essential? Do cultural perspectives change your view? Let’s talk in the comments.
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