I just received a nice little packet from AMO, the moniker for the Archery Manufacturer's and Merchant's Association, outlining the results of a study they recently conducted entitled "AMO's Economic Impact of Bowhunting." It makes for interesting reading. 

According to the study, retail sales to bowhunters in 1996 totaled $13 billion, a figure that includes sales of both new and used equipment and was arrived at using a projection method based on sample questionnaires. The study also reports that in 1996, 392,167 jobs were affected by bowhunting, which generated $9.4 billion in salaries and wages, and $1.0 billion in federal and $192 million in states taxes. The study also reported that the "Total Multiplier Effect" --  a scientific survey term that estimates the total of the many rounds of spending created by bowhunters' original purchases -- totaled $37.1 billion. The average annual expenditure of each and every bowhunter in the U.S. in 1996 was, according to the survey, $4,009.41. 

That's a lot of dough. 

The number that sticks in my mind, though, is this -- the total 
number of bowhunters in 1996 was 3,289,140, which was 23.5 percent of all the people who hunt in the United States. 

That's a lot of bowhunters. It's also a number that, according to 
past AMO surveys, shows bowhunters numbers have been slowly increasing over the past five years, while other surveys I've seen shows that the total number of hunters across the board have remained stagnant or slightly declining. It's this slightly-declining 
part that bothers me. 

 Most people don't start out bowhunting, they begin hunting with 
guns, then graduate, if you will, to the challenge of the bow-and-arrow. If general hunter numbers are declining, even if the number of bowhunters is increasing, that's bad news for us. 

How so? In a single word -- votes. Our rights to hunt (and fish, 
for that  matter) will ultimately be determined by voters across the country, from all walks of life. One of the great things about this country is that everyone's vote counts the same, regardless of where they live, how much money they have, who their daddy was. But because we're seeing a strong shift from rural America to the cities, where the jobs, the money, and the action is, fewer and fewer people are in touch with the land and its wildlife. They don't understand that Mother Nature is a nasty old hag much of the time, only that Disney told them that Bambi was cute and hunters killed her father. 

That urban children are losing touch with the land was driven home to me in a recent article in a business newspaper. It talked about the newest phenomenon in Japan, where urban sprawl and high-density living have become an art form. There children don't have real, live pets. Instead they have a "virtual pet," a GameBoy like toy with electronic power and computer chip memory that acts just like a real pet. Depending on the buttons they push, this "pet" makes sounds like a cat or dog, and displays a digital read-out that tells the user what they need to do to keep it happy. If they neglect it long enough, the game shuts down and the pet "dies." They have to re-boot everything to get another chance to do it right. 

Can you imagine such a thing? These children are substituting a 
pocket-sized computer game for the life of a real animal! Through this game they're learning that if their pet dies, it's no big deal -- just re-boot it and it starts all over again. They are so out of touch with the realities of the natural world that the chances of them ever understanding how it all really works are two -- slim and none. 

The same thing is occurring in America today. Urban residents who live far away from the natural world are bombarded daily by anti-hunting propaganda through the mail, on radio and television, at the movies, and in their daily newspapers. Like the young Japanese, they are living in a virtual world where all animals live in close harmony under the benevolent guidance of Mother Nature, whose only worries occur when the evil, testosterone-overloaded hunters show up. 

Unless we can turn this tide, we as hunters are in big trouble. 
Like most of  you, part of the reason I hunt is to be alone with nature, and my thoughts. I don't necessarily want a whole bunch of other people in the woods when I'm out there hunting. 

And yet, unless we can recruit new participants into the sport, and -- maybe more importantly -- convince a whole bunch of today's non-hunters that even though they choose not to hunt themselves, that it is all right for us to continue to do so -- the anti-hunters will win the day. We need more advocates of hunting out there, both as participants and as people who will not vote against us the next time the anti-hunters place one of their protectionist, anti-hunting initiatives on a state ballot. 

As in most of the important battles ever fought, the day is either 
won or lost by the individuals in the trenches, not giant armies or high-tech gizmos. If each of us will do his or her part, the collective result can only be positive for our side. Do the big stuff, like join the NRA, support your state and local bowhunting associations and clubs, etc. But don't forget the small stuff, either. When you appear in public as a bowhunter, look and act as if the fate of our entire sport rests on your shoulders. Share your love of the outdoors and of hunting with a non-hunter in your neighborhood or at work. Have a game feed at your home and invite some non-hunters over. You know the drill. 

Because we already have what young city dwellers are looking for when they turn to dope, alcohol, crime, and violence. We have adventure, excitement, camaraderie, a sense of belonging, personal challenge, pride of accomplishment, and an incomparable 
adrenaline rush every time we step into the woods. When we take the time to share what we have with them, they'll see both that there is an alternative to their dead-end choices, and that someone -- a bowhunter -- cares about them. 

Who needs virtual pets?