For years, I hunted and killed animals. I never really enjoyed it, and I would often cry… For years, I hunted and killed animals. I never really enjoyed it, and I would often cry after I killed.

The first few times, I felt a brief period of excitement over my success. I quickly realized, though, that shooting paper, aluminum cans or clay pigeons was as much a measure of skill as was actual hunting. When it became clear that I could test my skill in other forums, it came down to a simple question of whether I liked killing things.

I never felt that this killing was right, but for most of the seven years I devoted to it, I defended it fiercely.

Any of us can come up with a logical reason for what we want to do. I’ve heard several pertaining to hunting, such as: the land is overpopulated by such-and-such a breed of animal, and shooting them is more humane than letting them starve; they have no natural predators, so, for the sake of the ecosystem, we must act as predators; they ravage the crops of local farmers, so, for the farmers’ sake, we must reduce their numbers.

These logical reasons, however, are never the reasons we actually have for the things we do. We do these things because ? duh ? we want to. The logic is just an excuse for the instances when our morality refuses to let us off guilt-free.

I hunted for so long partly because, in my family, hunting was the practice of the majority, thus offering a chance for quality time. Because the family that kills together, well.

But more than that, I kept hunting because I was very good at rationalizing and very inclined to believe sound logic, especially my own. Those who argued with me on the topic seemed fixed to the “What if someone shot your dog?” type of argument. I was not swayed, as I was not shooting pets. I was not shooting animals that someone loved intimately.

At some point, it occurred to me that these people were not wrong just because they made a poor case for their side of the debate. They simply weren’t very good at disputation.

Nor did their lack of skill at debating imply that they were less intelligent and therefore less convincing. They merely lacked experience.

Most of those who raised objections to my hunting did so because they disagreed with hunting on a moral level, not a logical one. They never needed to convince themselves that they were right the way that I had to.

Not surprisingly, my seamless logic never managed to convince anyone of my position ? though, at the time, I was dumbfounded.

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Most of my friends, like me, love to debate. I’ve heard more than one of them share my complaint that discussions with people who have strong beliefs on an issue ? devoutly religious people, for instance ? are as productive as discussions with bricks or particularly stubborn emus. .

Such debates end, rather frustratingly, when the believer parries a skillful logical thrust with, “I know it in my heart.”

I hate this, and many of my friends hate this, because we argue to win.

When I quit hunting, my record in debates fell from the Undefeated pillar, where I could honestly say that, while I had not always won, no one had bested me. At least not while I was sober. .

I could refute anything, but I could not refute nothing. By refusing to engage me in a logical debate, these people eliminated the skill of arguing from the debate. Like hunting, the lack of a challenge of skill resulted in a lack of reward.

I kept hunting because I could rationalize it, and was willing to do so, because debating was fun. And when those discussions stopped being fun, I stopped honing my arguments.

I used to be irritated by people who eliminate logic from the discussion by obstinately restating their beliefs, without logical support. And now that I have come to agree with them, I’m even more irritated, because they won the debate without ever really arguing.

But I spent two years playing Little League Baseball before my team ever won a game. After that, I pretty much have to be a good sport.

So, to the obstinate, I say, “Well argued.”

Marty Flaherty can be reached at [email protected].