Abstract
People in the Global North are alienated from the meat they consume, as industrial animal production obscures the processes that transform animals into meat. However, meat can also be acquired through hunting. In hunting, the life and death of an animal are tangible; this provides unique opportunities to explore the human-animal relations embedded in modern food systems. Social representations theory is applied as the principal theoretical framework. This research asks how are game animals socially represented by hunters in Finland? It is argued that social representations form the basis of hunters’ human-animal relations and governs their beliefs, practices, and orientation towards animals. Two complementary methodological approaches – participant observation and in-depth interviews – were used to answer the research question. The research identified two social representations among the hunters: one that others the animal, and the other that subjectifies it. These two representations allow hunters to address critical questions about food of animal origin both while hunting and in their everyday urban lives as consumers. The co-occurrence of these social representations indicates cognitive polyphasia, enabling hunters to maintain a coherent worldview regarding human-animal relations should conflicts arise.
Introduction
In 2016 there were approximately 1.3 million dogs and cats in Finnish households. These pet animals are meticulously cared for regardless of the expenses as nearly one billion euros were spent on pets in 2016. (Statistics Finland, 2016.) At the same time, almost 80 kg of meat is consumed annually per person (Natural Resources Institute Finland, 2021) which translates to approximately 90 million slaughtered animals (Finnish Food Authority, 2023). Additionally, nearly 1.3 million game animals were killed by the hunters in Finland in 2023 (Natural Resources Institute Finland, 2024). There is a glaring inconsistency in our relations to animals of different species: some animals are considered family members and treated as human-like companions while others are treated instrumentally as raw material in the food or clothing industry.
Animals of different species are regarded in everyday thought in very different ways. Worldwide, dogs, cats and birds are most frequently considered pets (Gray & Young, 2011). These pet animals—defined formally as animals we live with that have no clear utilitarian purpose (Serpell, 1989)—share our homes, are given names and are provided with high-quality diets. Nevertheless, perceptions of what constitutes a pet, food source or vermin can vary significantly between cultures: an animal considered a companion in one culture may be seen as a source of food—as in the case of dogs in South Korea (Podberscek, 2009)—in another. In similar vein, religious doctrines such as Islam and Judaism deem pork unclean and thus unfit for consumption (Simoons, 1961); in contrast, in predominantly Lutheran Finland, pork represents the most frequently consumed type of meat (Natural Resources Institute Finland, 2021).
Indeed, culture shapes our interactions with various animals and the value given to them. For instance, in their study mapping notions of animals in Finland, Kupsala et al. (2016) have shown that pets are more likely to be considered conscious beings than production animals. There is, however, no scientific evidence to support the notion that dogs, for example, possess a greater level of sentience than pigs (Griffin & Speck, 2004). As scientific knowledge on animal sentience accumulates and societal attitudes gradually shift to recognise the unwanted side effects of meat consumption—such as CO2 emissions (Ratamaki, 2019)—the use of animals as food has become increasingly problematised in many societies of the Global North.
In this study, the complexities of the human-animal relationship within the context of hunting are delved into. Hunters occupy a distinctive position concerning this relationship, particularly in urban, post-agrarian societies where majority of individuals are disconnected from the origins of the meat they consume. For context, in 2017, only 1–8% of the Finns adhered to a vegetarian diet (Lehto et al., 2022). As meat is industrially produced and processed behind closed doors and bought from the local supermarket wrapped in plastic, the process of transforming animal to meat is obscured from public view (Häkli & Hakoköngäs, 2022). Consequently, the industrialisation of meat carries ontological implications: when most individuals are not directly involved in the production of meat, it has become—to an extent—conceptually separated from its animal origins (e.g., Kupsala, 2018). In this context the hunters are in unique position as they kill the animal themselves and carve the meat from it themselves. This position opens intriguing avenues for exploring the human-animal relationship and the processes in which the demarcation between the two is negotiated.
Hunting in context
The structural change of the food systems—comprising the production, distribution, consumption of food (Beardsworth & Keil, 2002)—during the past centuries has raised some issues regarding meat-eating and our relation to animals consumed for food. The abundance of inexpensive beef has led to the meatification of human diet (Sage, 2016). For example, in Finland, the total consumption of meat has tripled from the levels of the 1950s: an average Finn consumes approximately 80 kg of meat or meat products year (Natural Resources Institute Finland, 2021) As the global demand for meat has increased, meat production “has come to exemplify Fordist production processes with emphasis places on rising volumes and faster throughput” (Sage, 2016, p. 185). This has raised critical voices regarding animal-welfare in such processes (Freeman, 2010; Gruen & Jones, 2015; Vinnari & Vinnari, 2014).
Alongside with increased consumption of meat, the tendency to negatively associate harming animals has also increased: contradictorily, killing the animal always precedes eating its flesh. This results in what is called a meat paradox: we despise animal cruelty but still eat animals (Joy, 2009; Loughnan et al., 2010). Coping mechanisms to overcome meat paradox have been studied quite widely: people use the 4Ns—eating meat is natural, normal, necessary and nice—to rationalise meat consumption (Piazza et al., 2015) with some variation in the strategies used between genders (Rothgerber, 2013). Applying the 4Ns is efficient in modern food systems as industrialisation has hidden meat production behind closed doors of factory farms and slaughterhouses that produce beautified meat products devoid of any features of the animals they once were (Grauerholtz, 2007).
In comparison to modern food systems, obtaining meat through hunting has the elements of traditional food systems: hunting a single (especially big game) animal often requires workforce of several people; the distribution and availability of meat is linked to kinship, societal status and seasons; and the scale is strictly local. Most importantly, rather than resorting to strategies that blur the connection between meat and animals—such as the 4Ns—and thus evading the fact that something had to die for a steak (e.g., Adams, 1990/2015), hunters kill the animal themselves, drain its blood, and cut open the carcass to carve the flesh from it. At the same time the hunters are not excluded from social reality of modern food systems: this leaves the hunters in the intersection of two different realities with their distinct meaning structures. The somewhat contentious title of this research report refers to this very contrast: although harming animals is generally frowned upon, individuals still willingly engage in hunting activities that ultimately results in killing animals. Consequently, exploring the hunters’ relation to animals allows tapping into the processes of social negotiation about the shape of the human-animal relation in and between the different social milieus. Given the fact that almost 300,000 people in Finland obtain a one-year hunter’s license each year (Natural Resources Institute Finland, 2024), and considering the population of 5.5 million, hunting can be viewed as a relatively popular activity among Finns. Despite this, there is surprisingly little research on hunters and their relationship to animals (for exception see; Kupsala, 2018).
In Finland, hunting is regulated by law, which defines, among other things, the permitted hunting methods and equipment, game species, and the length of the hunting season (Hunting Act, 1999/615). Hunting in Finland always requires a valid hunting licence, which can be obtained by passing a hunting examination that demonstrates sufficient knowledge of hunting laws and species identification. The Finnish legislation defines hunting as: “[C]apturing and killing of wild game animals as well as taking quarry into possession by a hunter. Hunting also comprises luring, searching for, circling, stalking, chasing or tracking a game animal for hunting purpose, using a dog or other animal trained to hunt for searching, pursuing, or tracking a game animal, as well as keeping a hunting device at a hunting location ready for hunting.” (Hunting Act, 1999/615 §1)
The owner of the area is entitled to engage in hunting the game animals as well as unprotected animals listed in the Hunting Act (1999/615 §5). In practice, hunters often pursue game on land owned by others, as leasing hunting rights is a common practice. Hunting is also possible on State-owned lands for those living in certain municipalities (1999/615 §8). Consequently, in Finland, virtually anyone possessing the requisite hunting licence, and an appropriate weapon (one can apply for a firearms licence on the basis of hunting) has the opportunity to hunt. Hunting in Finland is, therefore, devoid of the exclusive elite status that characterises hunting in many other countries, such as the UK (see for example, Griffin, 2007). This is not to say game meat itself does not enjoy high status. Kupsala (2018) has identified hunters’ ritualistic approach to game meat, that appears in the ways of preparing it, eating it on special occasions, sharing it with significant others, and giving it away only as a present (p. 205).
The Finnish legislation lists 34 mammals and 26 birds as game (Hunting Act, 1999/615 §5). In 2023, approximately 1.3 million game animals were killed, including 242,000 wood pigeons, 114,000 mallards, 108,000 black grouse, 73,000 hares, 73,000 mountain hares, 60,000 white-tailed deer, 52,000 teal, 46,000 red foxes, 32,000 moose, 31,000 willow grouse, and 30,000 capercaillies (Natural Resources Institute Finland, 2024). Some game animals (such as bear, lynx or wolf) are protected at all times, but a derogation “may also be granted for the selective and restricted capturing or killing of specific specimens in closely controlled circumstances.” (Hunting Act, 1999/615 §37; §41). In 2023 157 bears, 115 lynx and 63 wolves were killed (Natural Resources Institute Finland, 2024). Finnish hunters also partake in game management by killing invasive species such as raccoon dogs and minks, with 133,000 and 31,000 killed in 2023, respectively. Additionally, unprotected animals like hooded crows and common magpies were also targeted, with 75,000 and 31,000 killed in 2023, respectively. (Natural Resources Institute Finland, 2024.) The animals are primarily killed for their meat, although some are hunted for their fur.
Human-animal relation: A social construct
Humans and animals, as categories, are to some extent biologically based. However, beneath this obvious truism, things start to get blurry. Animals is a human-made linguistic concept that homogenises all non-human sentient life under a single term. This can be regarded as representational violence that negates the specificity of each being by defining them generically through something ‘human’ they all lack (Weitzenfeld & Joy, 2014, p. 8). Between the far ends of the human-animal binary, there is a zone of indifference in which the articulation between human and animal must take place (Agamben, 2004, pp. 38–39) as is the case with humanised animals (e.g., pets) exempt from slaughter and the animalised humans (e.g., Jews during the Holocaust) subjected to it (Weitzenfeld & Joy, 2014, p. 8).
In everyday thinking, the human-animal binary is often demarcated by the human ability to use language (Derrida, 2019/2006); everything that does not use language belongs to the tail end of the binary. Language, however, is not inherent to humans, but rather a socio-historical product (e.g., Marková, 2012) that, if taken away from humans (as in the case of individuals with severe intellectual disabilities) or introduced to animals (such as the primates taught to use sign language; Krause & Beran, 2020) once again leaves us in the perplexing intermediate state of the binary.
Human-animal relation, then, is best viewed as dynamic and changing rather than static. The theoretical point of departure in the paper at hand is that of social constructionism. From this perspective our relationships with different species and the value we ascribe to them are seen as social constructs, which are replicated in social interaction and negotiated at various levels of society. More specifically, social representations theory (SRT; e.g., Moscovici, 1961) is applied as principal theoretical framework. At the core of SRT, there is a concept of social representation, that according to Moscovici (1973) are “systems of values, ideas and practices” (p.xvii). The concept has some similarities with the notions of attitude, opinion and stereotype, but SRT goes beyond the concepts by presupposing knowledge to be “in the form of common-sense theories”, thoroughly social in its fundaments (Moscovici & Hewstone, 1983, p. 99). Social representations are communicative and figurative tools that social actors use to name and classify phenomena encountered in everyday life in order to navigate in and make sense of the social reality around them. On the other hand, social representations are the expression and the product of a group in relation to the salient object in social reality (Jodelet, 1991). The function of social representations is to (1) enable communication between individuals or groups, (2) guide social action, (3) socialize individuals (Moscovici & Hewstone, 1983, pp. 117–118).
The social representations are constructed through the processes of objectification and anchoring. Social objects are objectified to tangible concepts that crystallise their essence; the objects can be objectified to images, metaphors or tropes. Social objects must also be linked to existing systems of knowledge to be communicable and understandable. Anchoring refers to the process in which this connection to pre-existing social knowledge is established. (Wagner et al., 1999). The anchoring process integrates objectified social objects into the shared social reality of communities; anchored objects become parts of the pre-existing web of social representations. In other words, objectification schematises the social objects by specifying what the objects are while anchoring defines what the objects relate to. For example, in a study exploring Finnish meat-advertisements, Häkli and Hakoköngäs (2022) demonstrated that meat-eating was anchored to the concept of natural order by objectifying it to varied natural imagery, and by issuing statements such as “for humans, making a fire and cooking meat is instinctive”.
Social representations are the common-sense knowledge of a certain social milieu (Bauer & Gaskell, 1999). It is important to note that social representations should not be considered true or false. Instead, they should be understood as elaborations of ideas or facts, that have fiduciary truth (Wagner & Hayes, 2005, p. 121). That is, social representation of group a is not truer than that of group b. Social representations are true because they serve the communicative and reality constitutive function of a specific group of people: ““real” is what people believe to be real in their actions – their paramount reality (Bauer & Gaskell, 2008, p. 345).” For example, Häkli and Hakoköngäs (2024) demonstrated this kind of segmentation of social knowledge in their study that explored the public discussion about animal production in Finland. The researchers found that the varying social context in which animal production was collective made sense in, governed the salient contents of social representations of different groupings resulting in highly contrasting views on the topic. Multiple social representations, however, not only coexist in societies but also in groups and even in individual thinking. The co-existence is conceptualised in SRT as cognitive polyphasia referring to the opportunistic selection of different of knowledge modalities—each representative of different ways of life and different traditions—that individuals use to make sense of the complexities of the everyday world (e.g., Jovchelovitch & Priego-Hernandez, 2015; Provencher et al., 2012). In other words, thinking does not dogmatically follow a single track of logic but fluidly navigates between various tracks, aligning itself with what makes the most sense within a given social context, time, and place.
From the perspective of SRT, the human-animal relation is negotiated in and through the semiotic triangle (Figure 1) comprising the subjects (humans) and the object (animals). The process of defining social objects is always mediated by others; knowledge is something done together in symbolic interaction between the subjects (Marková, 2003). Consequently, the construction of object also constructs the subjects involved in the defining. Semiotic triangle of social representation (originally formulated in Moscovici, 1984).
In the research at hand, the human-animal relationship is viewed as being based on social representations enabling individuals to orient themselves towards the complex set of questions embedded within the issue. In this research, the negotiation of the human-animal relationship in the context of hunting is explored. More specifically the research answers: How are game animals socially represented by the hunters in Finland?
Method and material
Rather than static, social representations are dynamic constructs, the shape of which is socially negotiated within certain social milieu. Moscovici’s definition (1973) of social representations, and more specifically its emphasis on practices as parts of social representations, should be reiterated; social reality is constructed not only through language but also through everyday practices. In their theoretical review, Martikainen and Sakki (2023) have further argued that social representations are also shaped by sensorimotor experiences. These embodied social representations are rooted in the physical space that sets the stage for action as well as the associated corporeal experiences, along with the communicative or figurative elements with which SRT research is more commonly concerned. “Social objects exist by virtue of the concerted behaviour of subjects forming a social group, they are always located in the context of some activity, and they are a part of action” (Wagner, 2016, p. 27). Thus, as suggested by Jodelet (1991), social representations are therefore best studied in the context in which they emerge and function (pp. 17–18). Following this suggestion, in this research, ethnographic method—namely participating observation—was used to explore the human-animal relation of the hunters. Contextual investigation allowed access to multiple levels of meaning-making—including the non-lingustic practices—through which hunters co-construct social representations regarding animals.
The research material was produced through participating observation between summer 2022 and spring 2024. The fieldwork was initiated by participating a preparatory course for the exam required to acquire hunters’ permit. The 3-day course was held by a local hunting association (Riistanhoitoyhdistys) and culminated in the huntsman´s examination. During the course the following topics like legislation, species identification, game ecology and management, ethical and sustainable hunting, firearms and ammunition in hunting, safety, hunting tools and methods, and game handling were covered.
The next phase of fieldwork was concerned with hunting in context: I took part in the activities of a local hunting club throughout the 2022 and 2023 hunting seasons (August–February) in southern Finland. In the field, I took on the role of an active participant, without the aim to fully integrate into the setting. The involvement can be characterised as moderate participation (Spradley, 1980), which allowed understanding the group’s culture from within while maintaining enough detachment for external observation. The activities involved both hunting-related voluntary work, such as maintaining feeding stations, and actual hunting. I participated in hunting of white-tailed deer and pheasants: these hunting trips comprised of deer stalking, as well as chasing the game with dogs. My role often involved accompanying hunters in the stalking towers or assisting a dog handler in driving the game. The hunting trips typically included about two dozen hunters, most of whom were middle-aged men. Since the hunts were organised by the hunting club, the participants were naturally selected for each field day. In some instances—particularly those hunts employing stalking—only one hunter was involved; in these cases, convenience sampling was used to select the informants.
During the fieldwork, fieldnotes were written. The notes recorded observations, discussions with informants, overheard conversations, and activities undertaken—essentially anything of interest that illuminated the research topic. Moreover, photography was used to record contextual research material from the fieldwork.
The data from participating observation was supplemented with open interviews with key informants from the hunting club. The interviewees were selected based on their role within the hunting club, their level of experience (whether they were new or long-standing members), and their personal activity in the hunts. Six in-depth interviews (ranging from 69 to 119 minutes) were conducted alongside with the fieldwork between the autumn 2022 and spring 2024. In this research, the two methods—participating observation and interviews—allowed the enquiry to proceed in a pendular fashion: the initial observations made in the field could be further explored in the interviews, and similarly, the observatory gaze could be refocused on the themes that emerged during the interviews. The interviews were conducted by the author and followed a loose thematic structure, that evolved throughout the research. In the interviews, themes such as hunter identity, principles of hunting, the act of killing, and the differences between hunting various animals were discussed. The interviews were recorded and transcribed for further analysis.
Due to the nature of the research material and the methodology used to produce it—participating observation and the closely associated interviews—the analysis should not be seen as a discrete phase in a linear process. Instead, analysis is an integral, overlapping part of the ongoing research, alongside reviewing the theoretical framework, testing extant theories, and writing. Drawing from the ethnographic research tradition, an “iterative-inductive approach” was applied, allowing the researcher to “move back and forth iteratively between theory and analysis, data and interpretation” (O’Reilly, 2009). This abductive approach highlights the benefits of inductivism while also offering opportunities to test theoretical insights deductively, ultimately aiming to answer the research question.
The constructionist paradigm of SRT seeks to understand how individuals construct and interpret social reality. However, researchers are not merely observers; they actively engage in the process of social construction. The insights generated through research result from a negotiation between the researchers themselves and their subjects. Consequently, these insights reflect the researchers’ interpretation of their subjects’ attempts to construct their own social reality. (Provencher, 2011.) This dynamic renders field notes as a medium for meaning-making, which can be analysed alongside interview data. Therefore, both ethnographic data—comprising field notes and photographs—and interview data were treated as a unified analytical body.
In practice, the analysis proceeded as follows. The material was coded to identify patterns of similarity and dissimilarity, focusing on objectifications—concretisations of what the animals are—and anchorings—what the objectifications relate to. Given that the research material was collected over an extended period, coding was an iterative process, with codes being refined, combined, and renamed as the research advanced. Ultimately, the codes were utilised to outline and define the social representations held by hunters regarding animals.
A notion of positionality should be highlighted here. I am a Finnish white male in my late 30s who, prior to this research, was not familiar with hunting, nor the informants of the hunting club. I introduced myself to the club as a keen learner, academically interested in hunting as part of contemporary meat-eating. The informants were informed that the fieldwork was part of my doctoral dissertation. On the surface, my personal identity aligned with the club’s members—who were predominantly middle-aged white Finnish males—which undoubtedly facilitated my access to the group. After a series of discussions with the leading figures in the hunting club—and following the presentation of my research plan to the executive group—I was granted permission to participate in the club’s activities as a temporary member. Initially, my presence appeared to generate some suspicion among the members, but they soon became more comfortable with me being around. My professional identity as a social psychologist conducting research seemed to manifest in many informants’ desire to present a favourable image of hunting to an outsider. However, especially during the interviews, the informants openly discussed the paradoxes involved in hunting. I view this openness as a sign of trust, which allowed them to reflect on the topic freely, effectively turning the interviews into spaces for meaning-making.
The study received clearance from an ethics board at the University of Helsinki. Informed consent was obtained from all participants, and their identities were pseudonymised in the research material.
Othered animals
The landscape unfurls in a tricolour tableau: a sky of the softest light blue, spruces robed in verdant green, and snow of pristine white. The snow softly crunches underfoot as I curl my toes in a futile attempt to keep them warm. Clutching my steaming cup of coffee, I take a sip. The morning sun casts yellow rays that shimmer through the spruces. The morning unfolds with ethereal beauty but there is a biting chill in the air; even as the midwinter sun climbs, its rays remain devoid of warmth. The informant clad in vibrant orange examines his smart phone intensively: the application displays a map of the area dotted with hunters and the dog chasing the deer. On the screen, one can observe the positions of two dozen hunters, arrayed in a semicircle following the curve of a forest road. The sound of a barking dog carries in the distance. The crackle of shortwave radio breaks the silence: a voice informs us that the dog appears to be on a chase, heading our direction. We peer at the edge of the forest before us. Glimmering snowflakes silently drift down as a cusp of wind stirs spruce branches. Our senses sharpen at the sound of low thumping to our front left. The informant takes a few determined steps towards the sound through the knee-deep snow and firmly shoulders the stock of his shotgun. In hushed anticipation, the rhythmic thumping grows louder, as we continue to scan the treeline. Suddenly, something brown flashes between the trees. The informant raises his shotgun; our hearts are racing. The large animal emerges from between the trees and halts abruptly, locking eyes with us from about 30 m away. It stands motionless for a moment and then skirts us on the left. The informant lowers his weapon, and we watch as the young moose disappears silently into the woods behind as. Today, we are hunting white-tailed deer, not moose. (Field notes, 12.2.2023)
The encounter with a young moose during a hunting trip, illustrates the comprehensiveness of the experience in the hunting. Hunting is not only an isolated act of killing the game animal but also the embodied experience around it. The rugged woods that engulf the hunters and the full spectrum of associated sensorimotor data, sets the frames through which the relationship with the animal is made sense of. The natural environment that surrounds hunting activities links the human-animal relationship within the natural order where humans are at the top of the food pyramid, as noted by the informants: “It is undeniable that humans, especially when we have weapons, are at the top of the food chain.” (Sami) or “Why are we the way we are in nature? We are at the top of the food pyramid, and we behave the way we do because it's natural for us.” (Antti)
The natural contexts positions hunters as parts of the larger ecosystem in which it is natural for humans to hunt. From this dominant position game animals are discussed at a macro level in terms of populations which can be culled. Consequently, game animals are stripped of their individuality; or in other words, othered. In deer hunting, the culling is aimed (both figuratively and literally) at the fawns as they represent a yield that can be harvested. In stark contrast to the trope “women and children first,” fawns are the first to be killed since they cannot yet breed and thus produce more yield. Interestingly, the Finnish equivalent term to culling is kantojen verotus which translates verbatim to taxing the population. Taxing further implies a power relation, in which the tax collector is entitled to impose a tax on the population. While game animals are assigned a deindividualized position as parts of populations, some animals are—to an extent—stripped of their very lives. For example, the act of killing raccoon dogs, classified as vermin, is defined—both in informal and formal language—as “removing” (poistaminen) the animals from nature. The concept of removing the animal implies that it cannot even be killed; it is simply extracted.
A significant aspect of hunting for many of the interviewed and/or observed hunters is game management (riistanhoito), which involves stewarding nature either by maintaining the status quo of animal populations or striving for a desired equilibrium. The state of equilibrium however is often a line drawn in the sand (e.g., Simberloff, 2012), and the species’ right to exist in Finnish biotype is often a matter of social negotiation. For example, the white-tailed deer is not a native species in Finnish nature but was introduced in the 1930s. The estimated white-tailed deer population in 2023 was approximately 120,000 animals (Natural Resources Institute Finland, 2023). Still, the white-tailed deer is considered a prestigious game animal, and its population is carefully managed through selective hunting (killing the fawns and avoiding shooting the big bucks) and feeding. Some native species—such as hooded crows, great cormorants or wolves—however are generally scorned. The reasons for this scorn may be quite obvious—whether it is the crows eating eggs of more desired game birds, the great cormorants consuming tremendous amounts of fish and defecating on islets en masse or the wolves mauling hunting dogs and frightening people by their presence in residential areas—but nevertheless, these populations are native to our ecosystem. The balance, then, which is the ultimate aim of game management, is socially negotiated. Some animal populations that have instrumental value (e.g., the meat of white-tailed deer or pheasants) are welcome even as invasive species, while many native animal populations lacking such value (such as wolves; Figari & Skogen, 2011) are considered a threat. Most importantly, the perspective of game management leaves little room for individuality as noted by one of the informants when discussing the need for human intervention regarding invasive species (raccoon dogs in this particular case): “If one considers that Finland's task is to take care of the native nature of the boreal region, then intervention is necessary. However, if the concern is solely for individual animals, then there is no reason to intervene. These animals have the same rights, as they were brought here without their own will, and therefore, they should not be interfered with. However, I believe that we should try to preserve our native species and protect them against these invasive species.” (Mikael)
In the extract above, the informant carefully weighs two perspectives: one that views invasive species as individual animals (“...these animals have the same rights…”), and the other that considers invasive species as a unified existential threat to the native biotype. A few moments later I asked a more specific question relating to this discord: Me: Did I interpret correctly that, in principle, regarding these raccoon dogs, there are two opposing perspectives: the preservation of populations and, on the other hand… Mikael: The individual animal. Me: …and these don't really align? Mikael: Yes, they can never align. Nature conservation is not about protecting individual animals. So they just don't meet; they cannot coexist harmoniously under any circumstances. But nature conservation and the removal of raccoon dogs: that is, in fact, one of the methods of nature conservation.
The game management perspective juxtaposes animal populations and individual animals. To preserve the native populations, the individualistic logic, must be suppressed: the life of an individual animal is subordinate to the wellbeing of a biotype as the informant in the extract above describes. This macro level perspective into the nature further allows parallelling game management with nature conservation. Hunting is in fact nature conservation—not to be mixed with protecting individual animals. Another informant also drew parallels between bacteria and viruses in humans and vermin in nature, as well as between medicine and game management as proper forms of treatment. Vermin are likened to sickness that slowly makes the nature ill. Killing the vermin, thus, is treating nature.
The concept of the othered animal becomes perhaps most tangible in trophies. Trophies are parts of the animal that are not consumed but put on display, such as antlers, skulls, or hides. The animal can also be stuffed in its entirety as a trophy. The traditional reason to collect trophies, as stated by one of the informants, is to honour the animal by preserving a part of it: “It’s like a hunting memory or a tribute to the animal. Originally, it was like when you got such a magnificent animal, you would take its head off to honour its memory in that way. (Riku)
Hunters emphasise that trophies are not symbols of arrogance over the animals’ lives but rather reminders of the animals’ past existence. The trophies also contribute to the idea of fully utilising everything from an animal, a principle widely embraced by hunters. If some parts of the animal are viewed to have aesthetic value, why not process them and admire them on the wall rather than leaving them in the carrion? The beauty of the animals is appreciated by many hunters. One informant describes the first capercaillie he killed: “Such a bird is incredibly beautiful, both as a bird and an animal. A capercaillie is truly astonishing; when you look at it up close, you can see how many different colours it has. It has all sorts of greens, blues, and blacks. You don’t really see that when you watch it flying around. It would have been quite nice to have it stuffed, but that wasn’t possible.” (Riku)
The extract demonstrates the othering of the animal by reducing it to its physical characteristics—the stunning beauty of its multicoloured feathers. It is the physical body of the animal—considered beautiful or astonishing—that is transformed into the trophy. An inanimate trophy omits traces of life, such as movement, sound, or perceived sentience, rendering it a concrete object. The animal is reduced to something that can be admired for its aesthetic features rather than someone.
Subjectified animals
I arrive at the site—a simple metal stand and a few meat hooks at the end of the old granary—where the downed animals are being processed. The white-tailed deer fawn— not much larger than a big dog—shot 15 minutes earlier by our hunting party, is suspended by its legs from a meat hook, head down. The trickle of blood from the deer’s mouth has frozen into a crimson icicle in the pinching frost. The shiny entrails are steaming in a plain plastic tub below the carcass. I watch as the hunter, with deft and deliberate movements, starts skinning the animal, first by making circular incisions around the elbow joints of the forelegs, and then snapping the limbs at the joints. A sharp, fleshy snap echoes in the still air as the tendons give way. After a series of precise incisions to the hide and a generous amount of pulling and jerking, the hide comes off, revealing the glistening, skinless red carcass beneath. The hunter, with a practiced hand, strips the animal of meat and throws the cuts onto the snow. As I watch this act, I try to reflect on how I feel: to my surprise, I find it hard to feel empathy towards the animal, as it has already transformed from a living being into mere meat. (Field notes, 7.1.2023)
The extract from the field notes elucidates the unexpected experience I had with my first contact with a killed white-tailed deer. The absence of empathy towards the animal was thoroughly unexpected, which led to an important realisation: while by definition, hunting entails the killing of game animals, not all deaths are alike.
At the beginning of the fieldwork, the words of the prep course instructor echoed in my mind for quite some time: “in hunting, there must be a certain spirit of killing” (metsästämisessä pitää olla sellainen tappamisen meininki). What had initially struck my ears as a somewhat uncomfortably over-enthusiastic statement about taking an animal’s life only later resonated with the fundamental principle of hunting. The hunter’s manual (Mikkola, 2022), used as learning material in the preparatory course for the hunter’s examination, states that “a hunter must be capable of shooting a game animal in such a way that it dies as swiftly and painlessly [emphasis by the author] as possible” (p. 184). The Finnish Hunting Act (1999/615 §20) also prohibits causing unnecessary suffering to animals.
This guideline echoes in the words and actions of the hunters: suffering of animal is to be evaded at all costs. Normative pressure to comply with the norm is intense: a failure to kill the animal swiftly is considered a great shame. An informant shared a recent hunting story illustrating this ideal: “It’s extremely important to me that if you shoot, it hits, that you – you know where you’re shooting at. But what happened was, we got a wounded animal. And by that, I mean that one of the companions shot at a deer and it didn't drop; instead, it was hit in the leg, which was only noticed afterwards. Well then – that animal was earnestly searched for, and it had been wandering around in the nearby area for an hour. It had broken—fractured its other leg too. So there it was—it had just collapsed there, and it was like completely alive, but it could no longer move anywhere. Well, at that moment, I felt that not everything went well. That poor creature. It had to suffer needlessly. In the same instance, when the animal was found, a party member proceeded to finish it off; he shot it, but the animal didn’t drop. The bullet failed to hit vital area. So, the creature took a shot, but there it still sat, fully conscious, so it didn’t drop—not at all. I mean, the scenario was just becoming increasingly distressing, because it was already suffering, then it gets shot, suffers even more, and yet still wasn’t dead. It was only on the third attempt that it finally died. And that was sort of a lesson for me, that this isn’t the way to do things. Even though there were experienced hunters around, I felt that this isn’t how things should be managed. [...] Then there were quite harsh comments [from the other hunters] like, “when was that gun last sighted?”. (Antti)
The narrative presents suffering as evidence of failure, illustrating the consequences of incorrect actions. It is not the act of taking an animal’s life that is problematized, but the associated suffering. Hunting deer typically involves the use of scoped rifles to achieve precise shots over distances, ranging from tens to hundreds of metres, thereby creating a physical detachment from the act of killing (Grossman, 2009). Following a precise hunting shot—which momentarily disrupts the sensory perception of the hunter due to the gunshot, muzzle flash, and recoil—the animal rapidly transitions from a living creature to a carcass. However, if the animal suffers during this process, the intended swift transformation is hindered, resulting in the animal being left in an intermediate state between life and death. The suffering subjectifies the animal and disrupts the functioning of the social representation that portray animals as objects. In other words, for the social representation that others the animal to function properly, the animal should not suffer in the process of hunting.
While the absence of suffering allows coping with the killing, the hunters still express anxiety relating to it. “In my opinion, it’s equally unpleasant every time I’ve shot something ((laughs)). It’s kind of a conflicting feeling. Like, you’ve been waiting for the moment to shoot, sometimes for many evenings, and then when you do shoot, you end up feeling a bit crappy about it. […] It’s like, in a way, that’s why you’re out there, and then when the moment comes and you take it, but still, there's always this feeling, like, they are such beautiful animals. I mean, almost everything that moves in nature is beautiful, and then the fact that its life ended because I shot it. It’s just a cold fact that if I hadn’t shot it, it would still be out there eating and maybe even reproducing someday, etc.” (Riku)
The informant aptly describes the conflict embedded into act of killing. Paradoxically, hunting is an active choice a hunter makes as the hunters generally describe hunting as a hobby, but still killing the animal causes anxiety for many, making one feel “crappy” as a beautiful creature is killed because of the hunter’s choice. Another informant vividly describes the inner conflict: “Well, you can see it when the animal is scared. Especially if they are young ones. And, well, it’s not, it’s not a pleasant task, like, no, no, it's not. It brings about a sort of, how should I put it, it does evoke a sense of pity, a bit like feeling helpless, that you shouldn’t, you shouldn’t torment the helpless in general. It’s an unfortunate situation that, well, since it’s an invasive species and threatens our game birds, the ducks that we’re trying to protect a bit, well, they need to be removed. Shooting is much easier if you set up bait and shoot from a hide. Then it’s more like hunting, you know, like you’re an active participant in it, but then passive, like trapping is passive. [...] [Y]ou set the trap in the evening and put new bait in it and maybe go to the sauna and drink some beer, and in the morning, you drive to check if there’s anything. Then there might be two young ones in one trap. And then the other one has to wait while the first one is shot, well, those aren’t pleasant situations. At least I don’t like it, and I don’t really know anyone who does, I've never met anyone. ((thinks for a long time)) All life should be respected.” (Teemu)
The extract further demonstrates the conflicting social representations. On one hand, the animals (raccoon dogs in this particular case) are subjectified through empathy: they are viewed as helpless animals—more specifically cubs—scared inside a trap, waiting to be killed in turns. The utilitarian rationale is echoed: the animals deserve our empathy as one should not mistreat those who are less powerful. Trapped raccoon dogs are often shot inside the trap using a single-shot .22 pistol (access to self-loading pistols is limited in Finland due to school shootings in which similar firearms were used), resulting in a scenario where multiple raccoon dogs trapped within the same trap have to be shot one at a time, with the pistol being reloaded after each shot. The raccoon dogs not yet killed must then wait for the final blow in the trap, as their fellow creatures lie dead—or are dying if the initial shot fails to hit vital areas—next to them. The shorter shooting distance also contributes to the subjectification of the animal, as mentioned by the informant: when shooting with a scoped firearm from a hide, the distance (at least partly) obscures the moment of death, the sounds, gestures, or movement of the dying animal. On the other hand, in the extract, the raccoon dogs are othered, viewed as vermin that need to be removed from our nature, as they pose a threat to native species in the Finnish biotype. The conflict between the two social representations is apparent.
The contrast between subjectified and othered animals is perhaps best illustrated by comparing the hunters’ relation to their dogs and game animals. The dogs are described using terms of endearments, such as “the lady” or “scamp” and by referring to them with personal pronouns or surnames. The subjectification is also apparent in the personality traits assigned to these pets: “Of course, it’s a peak moment if your dog finds something like that and brings it to you. My previous dog was a bit theatrical; for instance, when it found a capercaillie, if we were with a couple of friends, it would show it to each of them and then bring it to me, sitting down to hand it over. It was quite the rascal. It somehow knew how to show off a bit, at least to its papa ((laughs)).” (Mikael)
The extract demonstrates how a dog is assigned an anthropomorphic status in the narrative, blurring the line between human and animal: it can be “theatrical” in its actions or “show off,” implying a mind capable of such social behaviour. Furthermore, the master of the dog refers to himself as “papa,” indicating an intimate relationship with the animal, almost akin to that between a father and his child. During one encounter with an informant, I was told that some hunters consider it a “matter of pride” to shoot their own dog when the time comes. When asked by another hunter who owned a dog whether he would consider killing his own dog, if necessary, he replied that he could not, as he would not be sure that one shot would kill it and prevent suffering. “No, they go to the University Hospital [to be euthanised],” he concluded. The subjectification separates companion animals from game animals, reserving for the former the privilege of a medicalised, humane death without the possibility of suffering. In contrast, the latter—such as in the case of deer hunting—face a best-case scenario of a fatal shot to the lungs, resulting in a death by suffocating in their own blood over the course of a few minutes. Although a shot to the brain would end the animal’s life more quickly, aiming for the lungs is generally preferred because the target is larger and thus ensures a more reliable kill, reducing the chance of leaving the animal wounded for an extended period of time. On a similar note, the idea of consuming a deceased pet dog is met with disgust—almost akin to cannibalism—while the flesh of a deer is considered a great delicacy.
Objectifications and anchors of animal representations amongst hunters.
The co-existence
As the findings above demonstrate, the modalities of subjectified and othered animals sometimes conflict, sometimes complement one another, and at times intertwine almost inseparably. Fairness illustrates the co-existence of these social representations. From the very onset of this research, I found the concept of fairness curious in hunting. Fairness in hunting is enforced by numerous laws. For example, grouse, such as capercaillies, frequently swallow grit—which is stored in their gizzards to aid digestion—from gravel roads. As capercaillies are often also loyal to certain locations, this makes them too easy a prey for hunters as argued in the justification documents of Finnish Hunting Act (HE, 300/1992 vp, p. 15). Hence, shooting grouse whilst either the hunter or the bird is on the road is forbidden (Hunting Act, 1999/615 §25). Similarly, shooting bears in their dens (e.g., during hibernation) is illegal (Hunting Act, 1999/615 §33). While the paramount aim of hunting is killing animals, it should not be overtly easy. One informant told me that he preferred hunting in small parties, so that the animals have a “better chance of survival”. When asked to elaborate, he said: Mikael: “Well, it’s just like slaughtering if they [hares] don’t have any chance. Someone [hunters in the party] will kill it anyway, if the hunters are positioned so densely that the hare can’t outsmart the hunter.” Me: “There’s something very interesting about this because, in the end, isn’t the prey the reason for going out there?” Mikael: “There has to be a certain fairness as well.”
Fairness in hunting strikes a compelling middle ground in terms of the subjectification and othering of animals. Similar to two sports teams confronting each other in a decisive final match, the exhilaration of the hunt is most intense when both sides are equally skilled. Hunters wish to outsmart the prey, albeit by a narrow margin; the prey should also have a chance of escaping the hunter. The animal is therefore assigned some degree of subjectivity in the form of intellect. Fairness in hunting ultimately consolidates the difference between humans and animals. The intellect projected onto game animals does not lead to empathy towards them, nor does it refrain hunters from pulling the trigger; rather, it is instrumental to proving superior human abilities and intelligence if (and when) the animal is killed. Interestingly, while the English word game animals includes this connotation of sports, the Finnish equivalent riista is devoid of such meaning as it refers quite literally to a wild animal that is hunted (Finnish Etymological Dictionary, undated).
While hunting is described a hobby, acquiring meat remain its key goal. It should therefore not be surprising that the explicated differences between produced meat and that of the game animals surfaced throughout the research. Some hunters were vocal on the issues relating to factory farming such as: “If we have here this better, already acquired, expensive, and at least by some measure, or by my measure, more ethical and likely with a lower carbon footprint meat, then why on earth [should one] buy meat from the store? Plus, as said earlier, I definitely don’t want to be supporting the system in which pigs are eating each other’s asses in the pen.” (Sami) or “Well, it is certainly true that a hunted animal has, with a significantly higher probability, lived a happy life compared to a farmed animal. Unlike cows, for example, whose calves are taken away from them and who do not get to live in their natural social environment, wild game animals live in their natural social environment until the unfortunate moment they are hunted. Therefore, I consider them to be a significantly more ethical raw material.” (Teemu)
The former comment of course refers to pigs biting each other’s tails, behaviour characteristic to farmed pigs that causes pain and stress for the victim animals. The behaviour is argued to occur due to the lack of opportunities for pigs to fulfil their innate need for exploration and foraging behaviour due to deficiencies in the nutritional state of the animals (Palander, 2016). For the informant, tail biting is proof that animals are not well in the farms, and therefore, does not want to support animal production. Similarly, the latter comment highlights the better quality of life of the game animals compared to their farmed counterparts: wild animals have the opportunity to rear their offspring, live in a natural habitat and generally live a happy life until they fall prey to predator or hunters. Interestingly, the latter informant still refers to the game animals as “raw material”. The comment demonstrates the cognitive polyphasia that allows co-existence of two contrasting social representations: one that maintains that animals should live a happy life and the other that drives the hunter to actively seek opportunities to kill said animal.
Concluding remarks
“One does not eat meat without the death of an animal.”
(Adams, 1990/2015, , p. 21.)
The modern societies have been shown to obscure the link between the animal and the meat (e.g., Grauerholtz, 2007; Adams, 1990/2015). For the consumer purchasing minced meat neatly packed in plastic it is easy to avoid thinking of the animal whose life precedes the meat. Previous research has highlighted the meat-paradox in our relation to food of animal origin: harming animals is generally avoided but majority of people in the Global North still consume meat en mass. The existing research on the meat paradox, however, is based on cognitive dissonance theory, which locates inconsistencies within individual cognition. As noted by Panagiotou and Kadianaki (2019), this approach results in overlooking the role of the social context in experiencing and managing these inconsistencies. Furthermore, by focusing on dissonance, it fails to capture the processes through which inconsistencies are negotiated when they arise.
In this research SRT was used a theoretical framework to address this issue. The study investigated how game animals are socially represented. As emphasised earlier in this article, the hunters’ position both within and outside the modern food system presents a unique opportunity to study human-animal relations in Global North. The results demonstrate that human-animal relation in the context of hunting is based on the interplay between two social representations—one that others the animal and the other that subjectifies it—ultimately highlighting cognitive polyphasia. The othered perspective views animal as a consumable, as something, where the subjectified perspective views it as someone (Adams, 1990/2015) as presented in the findings. The animals that are killed in hunting are generally othered; through this social representation, the divide between human and animal is clear-cut. Suffering animals elicit the social representation that subjectifies the animal. Empathy towards the suffering creature blurs the line between human and animal, leaving the animal in a zone of indifference.
The hunters, although active pursuing opportunities to engage in hunting activities, are also part of another social milieu: that of the modern food systems, in which the mammals are generally considered sentient beings (Kupsala et al., 2016). Grossman (2009) has suggested that people have an intense resistance towards killing another man: “[…] man is not by nature a killer.” (p. xvi). The blurred human-animal divide—inherent in modern food systems—taps into the tendency to not kill. Yet, for a man to eat meat, an animal must die. To manage the possible conflict between the frames of different systems of knowledge, the game animal must be othered as demonstrated in this article. In other words, cognitive polyphasia allows hunters to maintain a coherent worldview regarding the human-animal divide, should conflicts arise. It is important to note that social actors do not intend to construct and re-present social representations (Wagner, 1996); rather, they utilise the social representations that make sense within a given sociocultural context (Panagiotou & Kadianaki, 2019). From this perspective, social actors are ontologically opportunistic in their attempts to cope with expectations that stem from often conflicting norms, values, and ideas of various social milieus.
Ultimately, the hunters’ relation to animals that are killed for their flesh is more intimate than that of a typical meat-eating consumer. In hunting, the life and death of an animal are tangible, which can sometimes provoke anxiety. In contrast, with almost 80 kg of meat consumed annually, many Finnish consumers most likely never spare a thought for the animals from whom the flesh is cut. Furthermore, many hunters take pride in their efforts to preserve the Finnish biotype through game management and are vocal about the ethical issues associated with animal farming. Game meat was also often considered a great delicacy, eaten only on special occasions rather than as everyday food.
It should, however, be emphasized that humans (in Global North) do not need to eat meat; we choose to. In the end, both farmed and game meat share the same fundamental dilemma: is killing sentient beings for dietary preferences justified?
Footnotes
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This work was supported by the Helsingin Yliopisto.
