President Theodore Roosevelt did it. So did King Henry VIII and Ashurbanipal, the last great king of the Neo-Assyrian Empire.
Throughout human history, big game hunting has been the province and passion of presidents, kings, wealthy sportsmen — and some women -- and these days, doctors, dentists and accountants with the resources to go abroad in search of trophy animals.
There’s been widespread anger over the killing of a lion named Cecil outside a protected Zimbabwe habitat by Minnesota dentist Walter Palmer — followed by news of Murrysville doctor Jan Seski’s recent lion kill. Zimbabwean authorities have claimed the killing of Cecil was illegal, and said that Dr. Seski participated in an illegal hunt in April. Dr. Seski said that he was not in Zimbabwe in April, and that he participated in a legal hunt in July.
The furor over the lion killings has put a new spotlight on the lucrative big game hunting industry in Africa. Though some critics oppose all big-game hunting, others distinguish between “ethical” hunting in which the animal is in the wild and tracking and shooting skills are required and “canned” hunts, with enclosures, bait, and animals raised on farms— with little fear of humans — that make winning a trophy easier for those willing to pay.
In past hunting societies, bagging your trophy was all about skill, courage and risk — not about cornered animals in an enclosure.
Among Native American tribes, “there was a lot of personal satisfaction and glorification from the hunter’s social group when he successfully returned with a prize animal, but that strength and glory was directly related to the degree to which the hunt was a significant challenge,” said Mt. Lebanon psychologist Joe Cvitkovic, director of behavioral health care at Jefferson Hospital, Allegheny Health Network.
“That’s why you’re seeing an abhorrence to this kind of behavior in social media and the press. Most hunters would see this lack of challenge and use of skill as a waste of the lion’s life, and as something negative and not worthy of the sport.”
Still, while arguments rage about ethics of hunting, defenders have also stepped forward.
Sabrina Corgatelli, the self-described “Italian Huntress,” and an accountant at Idaho State University, has been posting numerous photos of herself on social media with her trophy kills, including “an amazing old giraffe” she shot with her Winchester rifle in Kruger National Park in South Africa.
“Such a amazing animal!!” She wrote on Facebook July 25. “I couldn’t be any happier!! My emotion after getting him was a feeling I will never forget!!!”
Ms. Corgatelli remains something of an outlier: men of means remain the predominant practitioners of big game hunting in Africa, and its enduring appeal for this particular demographic intrigued Michigan State University professor Linda Kalof, co-author of a 2003 study published in the sociology journal Visual Studies titled “Reading the trophy: exploring the display of dead animals in hunting magazines.”
She, along with doctoral student Amy Fitzgerald, studied nearly 800 photographs — dubbed “hero shots,” taken after the animals were killed — in 14 different publications dedicated to the sport, and found some recurring themes. The animals were always cleaned up, with no blood or wounds shown and the hunter was always posed above the animal, as if to show dominance, power and prowess — even if it was shot in an enclosed area.
It has been ever thus, she noted: in 650 B.C., stone tablets documented how captured lions were released from their cages so that the king in a chariot could slaughter them.
While humans have hunted since prehistoric times, big game hunting’s role in the biological, cognitive and cultural evolution of humans is being vigorously debated among experts, said Loukas Barton, a professor of anthropology at the University of Pittsburgh.
Not all human groups consumed the same amount of meat, Mr. Barton said, and “contrary to the popular imagination, archaeological evidence suggests that some, or even many, of the ‘big game hunters’ of the past actually depended more on plant foods and small game than they did on large animals.”
A decade or so ago, he added, several controversial studies were publishing suggesting that such displays of prowess in societies that mostly hunted for food might have given some males the upper hand in attracting mates.
Today, “trophy hunting is one form of in-your-face conspicuous consumption, but so are Ferraris and box seats at sporting events,” he said.
People go hunting for many reasons, he added. “It’s about adventure, tradition, heritage, family, camaraderie, even, apparently, sexual stimulation. Certainly some people still hunt simply for food. That's inarguable. But nobody eats a lion, or an Alaskan brown bear either. It’s all about the trophy.”
Mr. Barton lived for a time in Alaska, and many friends of his were hunters who displayed their trophies in their homes, but “they expressed and felt an immense appreciation and respect for the animals,” he said. “They felt significant pride in their accomplishments and they really liked sharing that appreciation, respect, and pride with others.”
Still, even in Alaskan folklore, trophy hunting was often framed as a cautionary tale. According to the stories told by Alutiiq Sugpiaq Natives, Mr. Barton said, “the moral was always the same: Never boast about killing a bear, because boasters are the only people bears ever kill.”
Mackenzie Carpenter, mcarpenter@post-gazette.com, 412-263-1949 or on Twitter @MackenziePG.
First Published: August 6, 2015, 4:00 a.m.
