COLUMN: What Do Animal Rights Activists and Hunters Share?

ISSUE 7 / ENVIRONMENT

A lot more than you’d think. And then a lot less.  

On the 12th of july, I attended the annual North Canterbury Hunting Competition (NCHC) as a protestor and president of UC Animal Rights Club, alongside members of Christchurch Animal Save. Our stance is simple: we advocate for compassionate conservation of invasive species, not recreational killing. When animal slaughter is packaged into an enjoyable competition, their lives are reduced into points on a scoreboard. Deceased animals are treated like trophies, toys, then trash. 

We also oppose the “all-ages” component of the event. NCHC has gained international infamy for its inclusion of a “juniors” section, in which children under 14 can participate in the hunt. Prizes are awarded for the heaviest catch from the two-day event, with target animals such as cats, pigs, deer, goats, rabbits... and many more.

I won’t lie. It was a hard watch for a city-bred student such as myself. I would flinch when bodies were tossed haphazardly onto the ground, landing with a deafening thud. I felt my stomach lurch when legs of deer were butchered, cut off with bandsaws, bones snapping and blood spattering onto the mud. Definitely not my typical Sunday afternoon. Kids—some no older than five or six—were watching, cheering, chucking their contributions onto growing piles of stiff corpses, and boasting the number of cats they had shot. It was difficult to grasp that this was their “normal”.

Despite how exhausting and frustrating the experience was, I felt surprised to find I had more in common with NCHC’s (approximately 1,500) attendees than I expected. We value the outdoors, quality time spent with family, even communal solidarity—the competition plays a crucial role in supporting the local community of Rotherham through entry fee fundraising, food bank donations, and creating a space for connection. Most notably, we share a passion for the protection of Aotearoa’s native wildlife. The variety of animals which are hunted for the NCHC are undoubtedly disrupting our ecosystems and threatening taonga species.

However, in North Canterbury, generations grow up with guns in hand. Hunting is a deeply interwoven part of the rural social fabric, so I was not blindsided when hunters became hostile to our presence. Yet, as the hours passed, I witnessed a more sinister culture of gruesome, violent, and degrading behaviour.

NCHC organisers claim that the event teaches kids responsibility and respect for animals, not “cruelty,” and that “the experience doesn’t take away empathy. It helps build it”. It is difficult to agree after the following unfolded: A grown man fondled the genitals of a deceased animal in front of us. Mothers handed out dead cats, rabbits, and pigs to their children, who dragged these bodies through an obstacle course. After the event, NCHC organiser Mat Bailey begun his interview on TVNZ with a butt plug attached to a cat’s tail, claiming it was his “microphone”. If NCHC want to demonise feral cats for playing with the bodies of their prey, they should take a long, hard look at some of their own attendees. It was saddening to see how the younger generation mirrored this behaviour on their own—we saw children throwing and kicking animals around, putting them into vehicle exhaust pipes, and eventually using their bodies while attempting to taunt protestors. A young boy threw a deceased baby wallaby at us—barely missing my face.

It’s not only disturbing, it’s reflective of a darker motivation beyond passion for conservation and community care. To allow events such as NCHC to continue would be to turn a blind eye to this breeding ground of activities that glorify and normalise animal cruelty. Instead, I see a future without hunting competitions, where we make decisions informed by both empathy and evidence. We can achieve effective conservation without abandoning our understanding of animals as sentient beings which deserve consideration and respect.