The Social Benefits of Game Shooting

Words by George Davis, Chairman of the Game Farmers Association, in collaboration with our partners at Marsdens, supporting the future of shooting for 70 years.

This piece is written primarily for those of us who shoot but especially for those that don’t know the full picture behind it, of course this is subjective and is very much influenced by your entry point, mine is from someone that has played an active part for a very long time, I have seen the good and the bad.

Shooting is often reduced by critics to the simple act of killing birds for fun. The reality is far more complex, linking skills, traditions, and responsibilities that underpins large parts of our countryside. The problem is explaining this is just as complex.

Taking things for granted until they are lost can be unfortunate but I fear if shooting were ever significantly restricted, the consequences would extend far beyond the peg, affecting land management, rural employment, and something deeply rooted in our national identity.

That is precisely why poor practice within shooting is not just regrettable, but dangerous.

Why does social activity matter?

Sociology has fascinated me for years. I believe modern life is making people far less connected than they realise. For many of us, daily routines have become increasingly anti-social. Years ago whilst travelling through the Northern Fronter District of Kenya I found the nomadic villagers that we met incredibly welcoming even language didn’t seem to be a barrier.

Returning to our cities, passing thousands without acknowledgement felt bleak in comparison, greeting everyone in the street would be admittedly a bit tiring and probably get you locked up but I have to admit I find this coping mechanism draining.

Small communities energise because people interact. Shared activities, including shooting build a bond, a camaraderie. This interaction is the essential glue that the nation is desperately lacking.

It’s estimated there are over 10,000 shoots in the UK. Each functions as a small community, often involving dozens of people across a season. Collectively, that represents hundreds of thousands of individuals connected through a shared rural activity.

What I particularly enjoy, is the diversity. Shooting quietly brings together different ages, backgrounds, and professions in a way few other activities do. Introducing young people to a shoot environment can build confidence with talking to elders, and instil a respect for the countryside that will be vital in the future.

At the other end of the age spectrum, beating, shooting, or working dogs may be someone’s primary social interaction. At a time when clubs and community groups are declining and mental-health issues are rising, shooting is, in many places, bucking the trend.

The Shooting community

One of the least visible aspects of shooting is the quiet good it does. Many shoots collect for charities such as air ambulances, cancer charities, or Alzheimer’s, often prompted by illness or loss affecting someone within the group.

These moments aren’t performative; they’re simply what communities do. The Countryside Food Trust, for instance are a specialist charity that are supporting food banks across the country with high quality game. 

Increasingly, keepers are also becoming the eyes and ears of the countryside, passing on information to rural crime units and noticing activity that might otherwise go unseen. This role is rarely acknowledged, but important.

At its best, shooting creates real communities, not just social occasions. It sustains rural roles that would otherwise struggle to survive, from keepers, beaters and pickers-up to game rearers and dealers but also supporting wider roles such as catering staff and gunsmiths. It provides a framework in the countryside where people feel useful, valued, and connected. 

Shooting is no longer just a sport for the aristocracy, on any given shoot you might find yourself alongside builders, mechanics, doctors, vets, politicians, rockstars . The conversations can be fascinating, revealing or hilarious. There are few remaining activities that bond people so freely and without hierarchy.

I also value the intergenerational exchange. I genuinely enjoy being quizzed by someone a fraction of my age. Only recently, a fourteen-year-old girl spoke enthusiastically about her love of Labradors. That same fascination with working dogs over a century ago helped give rise to Crufts, now a global institution with its roots in the shooting world.

The pressure beneath the surface

There is, however, a side of shooting that deserves more focus. The pressure on keepers to “deliver” can be immense, whether it comes from employers or paying guns. But consistency with wild birds is a contradiction in terms, especially in the later weeks of the season.

On one occasion, I witnessed a gun demand that a drive be stopped because he felt he wasn’t getting enough birds over him. Attempting to reason with him was a painful experience. If salmon fishing were only worthwhile when you caught a fish every time, we would have had to fill the rivers long ago.

Whatever happened to patience, it’s the anticipation that makes a day engaging, “is that bird coming my way”. 

Poor practice, can be born out of appeasing an increased appetite, but it is our weakest link. Undervaluing the life we take, particularly to satisfy expectations of “getting your money’s worth,” undermines the legitimacy of shooting itself.

Topping up stocks during a season exists outside the code of good shooting for good reason and, under current housing orders, is illegal. These standards exist not to limit shooting, but to protect it.

What makes a day out special? (For me) 

Modern culture has embraced the idea of immersive experiences, in art, dining, and entertainment.Art isn’t just looking at pictures and Game shooting isn’t about just pulling the trigger. A day’s sport represents hundreds of unseen days of habitat management, planning, and organisation.

Coordinating the people and logistics on the day requires exceptional skill, often under significant pressure. Some days are blessed with sunshine and stunning views. But for me, it’s the wet, uncomfortable days that reveal the essence of shooting.

When rain is running down your neck but a bird breaks cover, Adrenalin kicks in. You are fully present, aware of sound, movement, and space, is this the hunter instinct that still flows with some of us? My peripheral vision is enhanced and I am on point, I don’t need my ear pods like you do when running in the park.

This level of connection with the countryside is in my blood, it doesn’t even matter if I miss the shot. The accusation that we are “killing things for fun” is extremely over simplified, and designed only as an incendiary statement.

Responsibility and the future

The social benefits of shooting are not accidental. They exist because the activity creates real communities rather than occasional gatherings.

If shooting is to have a future, we must individually accept that responsibility cannot be outsourced. There is no single organisation, endorsement, or figurehead who can secure our place in the countryside, its down to each of us.

Each of us has a story to tell, to MPs, WI groups, local communities, and anyone willing to listen. When the wider public can see for themselves what goes on behind what are often closed doors, truth becomes far harder to distort. To protect shooting, we must be willing to open up in every way.
 

With thanks again to Marsdens for comissioning this article

Marsden's Game Feeds has been providing the UK's shooting community with high-quality, tailored nutrition for over 70 years, helping gamekeepers rear stronger, healthier birds and supporting shoots with expert advice, innovation and local service thoughtout the season. 

Marsdens Game Feeds have commissioned this four-part series to educate, inform and inspire readers, offering deeper insight into shooting and highlighting its many benefits for individuals, wildlife and the wider countryside.