#012// For the love of it
We’ve all heard the lines, and I’ve often used them myself.
“There are more deer now than ever before.”
“They have no natural predators.”
“It’s essential population control.”
“It protects crops, woodlands, road safety…”
And it’s all true. But that’s not why I hunt.
At least, not really.
We’ve spent the last few decades trying to sanitise the hunting conversation—polishing it into a palatable script for a public that often doesn’t want to understand it anyway. And in doing so, I think we’ve lost something.
We’ve buried the real answer beneath layers of justification.
We’ve forgotten that the most honest reason is also the simplest one:
I hunt because I enjoy it.
Not because I’m a professional deer manager.
Not because I’m trying to rescue native flora from invasive browsing pressure.
Not because I need the venison to survive.
I hunt because I love it.
I love the early mornings, the silence, the frost on the gate latch.
I love needing to read the wind.
I love the stillness, the sudden tension, the moment it all comes together—or doesn’t.
I love being out there, often alone, where everything matters and nothing else intrudes.
Yes, it results in wholesome meat for the family table. Yes, it plays a role in stewardship and conservation. Yes, it requires discipline and skill. But all of that sits under a single, undeniable truth: we do it because it fulfils something in us.
It’s not about bloodlust or ego. It’s about connection. It’s about immersion. It’s about participating in something older and deeper than modern life usually allows.
And yet, somehow, we’ve become afraid to say it.
Afraid that enjoyment will be misread as something sinister.
Afraid that admitting we love the act itself will give fuel to critics who already don’t listen.
But the truth is: enjoyment is a valid reason.
It’s not lesser. It’s not immoral.
It’s human.
What a strange culture we’ve built, where we’re expected to apologise for passion, to dress joy up as duty, to strip meaning from tradition so it can be vacuum packed for public consumption.
So let’s stop pretending we’re all cold technicians.
Let’s stop speaking only in the language of necessity.
Let’s reclaim the right to say it plainly:
I hunt because I love everything about it.
