Britain’s shameful role in trophy hunting

Three African elephant bodies. Four tusks. Four ears. Twenty-six lions. Twenty-one giraffes. Seven caracal cats. Five zebra skins. Leopards, hippos, crocodiles, baboons, monkeys. This is not a shopping list from a medieval market — it’s the tally of trophies that British hunters dragged home in just one year.

While politicians dither and delay, wealthy Britons are out there turning living, breathing animals into décor. In 2023 alone, 188 body parts from 28 endangered or threatened species arrived in the UK, courtesy of so-called “sportsmen.” These are individuals who, if left alone, would have continued playing their part in ecosystems already pushed to the brink. Instead, they were reduced to rugs and bragging rights.

Behind each trophy is not just a bullet — but an industry. An industry of death, domination, and denial, neatly packaged as "tradition" or "conservation." Enter Robin Hurt, one of Britain’s most infamous trophy hunters. Born in London, raised in colonial shadows, Hurt brags of killing his first leopard at 12, his first elephant at 17. His firm proudly sits in Safari Club International’s grotesque "Record Book of Death," having helped clients gun down at least 37 record-breaking leopards, 16 hippos, 14 lions, and countless others.

In his autobiography, Hurt gleefully recounts luring a lion with the carcass of a freshly killed elephant. He brags of "100-pound tuskers," "200-pound leopards," and "10-foot lions with heavy manes."

The industry claims it funds conservation. Hurt insists that without hunters, poachers would overrun these lands. But conservation built on blood cannot call itself conservation. Real conservation protects life; it does not auction it off to the highest bidder. The claim that "legal hunting prevents poaching" is as hollow as the skulls lining trophy rooms. Meanwhile, endangered species like cheetahs — with only around 6,500 left — are advertised online as "once-in-a-lifetime" kills for up to £116,000.

This is not about "managing populations" or "supporting local communities." This is about power and supremacy — the thrill of standing over a magnificent animal’s corpse, declaring dominance with a rifle.

It has been ten years since Cecil the lion was killed by an American dentist, sparking global outrage. Yet, instead of ending, the slaughter has scaled up. Hunters from around the world took home nearly 1,800 giraffe trophies in 2023 alone. The UK still sits comfortably among the top importers, despite repeated manifesto pledges from both major parties to ban these imports.

Public figures like Joanna Lumley, Chris Packham, Priscilla Presley, and Jane Goodall have called out this industry for what it is: a moral stain. Presley calls it a “sickness.” Goodall says the days of the Great White Hunter should end — and she’s right. Every moment spent debating this so-called "tradition" is another moment animals are baited, shot, and turned into grotesque souvenirs.

Meanwhile, trophy hunters themselves keep lobbying to protect their pastime, even urging clients to rush their hunts before a potential UK import ban takes effect. They claim the bans hurt rural communities, ignoring that true community support and genuine conservation do not come with a trail of blood.

The public loves to call Britain a nation of animal lovers. If that's true, it’s time to prove it. This is not conservation. This is not respect. This is supremacy with a price tag.

A private member’s bill to ban trophy imports is crawling its way through Parliament. Without strong government backing, it may collapse, just as previous promises have.

If we truly care about wildlife — the lions we watch in documentaries, the elephants we admire in nature shows — we must reject the lie that killing them is somehow saving them.

This is a justice issue. Not just for the animals who are gunned down, but for the entire living world we claim to cherish.

It's time to relegate trophy hunting to the dustbin of history — where it belongs.