Cull of the wild

I’m sure Alastair Robertson intended to court controversy when he wrote his column on the subject of seal shooting to protect salmon in fisheries (Scotsman Magazine, 30 June), given his provocative choice of words, but I’d like to think that I am capable of responding in a reasonable manner, rather than with any shred of “fluffy, touchy-feely” sentiment.

What he refers to as “this fluffy, touchy-feely day and age”, other people would call “this environmentally aware day and age”, thus exposing the vast gulf in attitudes between those who demand the right to kill anything that affects their interests, be they for business or pleasure, and those who do not believe that human beings have the moral right to impose their will on every other species.

His choice of words shows a remarkable degree of anthropomorphic prejudice: seals, he declares, hang around fishery nets “in a threatening manner”; there are “rogue seals” which have the audacity to think that nets full of enticing salmon represent excellent feeding opportunities, when they should, of course, pass by without so much as a sniff.

The fact that captive salmon are unable to escape the seals’ attention because they have been artificially gathered in large numbers, with no means of escape, seems to be of little interest to him.

Seals eat fish, not to spite humans, nor deliberately to inflict terror and cruelty on their prey, but to survive to rear the next generation.

His declaration that children would be unaffected by finding the bodies of seals shot by the nets men’s hired hands is particularly contentious.

Yes, children can have a natural curiosity about dead animals, and will not necessarily be shocked by the sight of dead seals – but they will certainly be affected by seeing dead seals with bullet holes in their heads, and any normal, curious child will want to know how the animal died.

Yes, “things die”, but “things” are also wantonly killed.

One last point – the fact that an activity is legal does not necessarily make it morally right.

Carolyn Taylor

Wellbank

Dundee