THE TRAGIC WISDOM OF TRAPPING

Knowing the origin of what puts food on your plate, and taking an active part in it, the sense of autonomy and the full weight of responsibility, are all part of this thing called tragic wisdom experienced during a kill.

The harvest. The dispatch. The kill. That feeling of excitement and joy combined with a deep internal sadness as you watch an individual whose species you respect and admire die. As trappers we inevitably deal with a lot of death. It’s a more intense, personal experience than most people could ever know, and when you’re running a productive trapline, it can happen a lot.

Some people call trappers bloodthirsty killers who enjoy inflicting pain on animals. We know that’s not true, and that they’ll never experience the weight of emotions that flood a trapper’s consciousness at the time of dispatch. But how do we explain it? Why the extraordinary mix of joy and sorrow? What’s going on in our minds and how do we communicate that with the non-hunting and trapping community? And for some of us, how do we justify it to ourselves?

In his 2001 paper “Sport Hunting, Eudaimonia, and Tragic Wisdom”, philosopher James Tantillo explores the emotions hunters experience during the kill, and attempts to describe why we feel the way we do, and why it’s okay, and perhaps a critical part of being purely human. While Tantillo deals specifically with sport hunting, I see a direct connection to our experience as trappers.

As Tantillo puts it, “Reflective sport hunters develop a ‘realistic awareness of death’ and experience what may be called ‘tragic’ pleasure, which yields the important intellectual virtue of tragic wisdom.”

Here’s my take as a non-philosopher. On a basic level, we all realize that death is part of life. It’s an unavoidable part of being on planet Earth, and every living thing experiences it. As humans, our simple existence plays a part in causing the death of countless other organisms, including animals. Even the vegan is a killer. By consuming any type of food, breathing oxygen, living in climate controlled shelters, driving on the road, and taking part in every aspect of life, we cause death.

The difference with hunters (and trappers) is that we have a much more meaningful relationship with that death. We take an active and intimate role in it. We kill animals to eat. We kill animals for a paycheck to support our families. We kill animals to resolve problems and so that our fellow humans don’t have to.

With all of this killing comes a heavy burden. Taking an animal’s life is a serious thing, and should be treated as such, and completed with respect and dignity. For a normal person, killing should be accompanied by a feeling of guilt. Why the guilt? Maybe it’s the regret for taking a life so that, on a broader level, we could continue to live. Perhaps it’s a realization that we too will die someday, a reminder of the ever-present shadow of mortality hanging over all of us. Tantillo describes the emotional response as being similar to tragedy, in that it puts us in an ambiguous situation that is, quite possibly, irresolvable.

But it’s not just sadness. There’s another feeling that comes with taking an animal, and I’m not sure it can be described as happiness or joy, although those emotions are mixed in. To me it’s some sort of deep sense of clarity. Tantillo explains that one of the benefits of hunting is a form of contemplative tragic knowledge that comes from a familiarity and intimacy with death. Knowing the origin of what puts food on your plate, and taking an active part in it, the sense of autonomy and the full weight of responsibility, are all part of this thing called tragic wisdom experienced during a kill.

A lot us have trouble explaining to non-hunters and non-trappers what we do. Sometimes we downplay certain aspects of it. Sometimes we lie to ourselves about our feelings or the confusing emotions involved with this whole experience of dispatching an animal. I’m asking you, as a fellow trapper, not to ignore these emotions. Embrace them, and try to understand them better. Don’t brush them aside. It’s okay to feel guilty, and it’s okay to be happy, all at the same time. It’s complicated. And that’s okay too. That’s how it’s supposed to be.

JEREMIAH WOOD