Catch & Release: Are We Really As Ethical As We Think?
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- il y a 6 heures
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Where Do the Ethical Boundaries of Catch & Release Lie?
Gipcy- July 10, 2021
This is a thorny subject that has been around for many years, and its scope is as wide as the trunk of a kaori tree.
As is often the case, everyone tends to see things from their own perspective. It’s much easier to criticize the angler next door than to spend time correcting our own mistakes.
Introduction
Before discussing possible boundaries or paradoxes, let’s first clarify what “no kill” — now commonly referred to as catch and release — actually means.
Catch and release is not simply about putting a fish back in the water.
It’s about respecting the fish as much as possible and doing everything we can to minimise the impact we have on its health. And that’s a very different thing.
In other words, catch and release isn’t just about handling fish properly once they’re on the bank.
It also includes everything we do leading up to the capture itself.
And that leaves quite a few areas where most of us are, ethically speaking… on shaky ground.
Sometimes even completely at odds with the very spirit of respect for the fish that we claim to uphold.

A Late Step in the Learning Curve
I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that, in a carp angler’s learning process, the topic of catch and release often comes very late.
It’s a subject that frequently comes up in conversation — proudly dressed in its finest clothes during pub debates — yet when you look closely at what actually happens on the bank, that noble outfit quickly disappears.
How many anglers have been carp fishing for twenty years and still don’t bother folding a fish’s fins before lifting the landing net?
How many still insist on fishing deep in snags despite having almost no chance of landing the fish?
How many still drop a lead on every take while being convinced they’re doing nothing wrong?
The list is long… far too long.

Sharing Experiences — Especially the Bad Ones
In my previous article, “Why Do I Fish?”, I briefly touched on what we can call ethics.
It’s difficult to raise this subject without sounding moralising when pointing out what should — or shouldn’t — be done.
Still, I’ll try not to come across as someone giving lessons.
Firstly, because I’m nobody to tell others what they should do.
Secondly, because that approach is rarely effective when it comes to education.
A few years ago, I tried addressing this topic openly in a specialised magazine.
People tend to become defensive very quickly, and once that happens they stop listening entirely — even when the message is constructive.
And yet, if there’s one topic that is based on real-life situations rather than endless speculation, it’s this one.
“I broke a fish’s tail this way. I realised my mistake. Now I know how to avoid it, and I’m sharing that experience.”
That’s something concrete.
That’s where meaningful communication can exist — offering real solutions to problems that are often caused by ignorance or lack of experience.
For the last thirty years, carp fishing magazines in France have been filled with articles.
Thirty years of revolutionary rigs.
Thirty years of unbeatable strategies.
Thirty years of record fish.
But where are the practical tips on how to reduce the harm we cause to the fish?
How many proper tutorials on fish care and handling can you find on YouTube?
Far too few.
In my opinion, this is one of the most important subjects authors should be addressing if they genuinely want to contribute something positive to carp fishing.
I would even go as far as saying that every writer should regularly revisit this topic, simply to reach as many anglers as possible.
Because if the condition of our carp stocks is deteriorating today, the lack of education around catch and release certainly plays a part.
The first thing a kid should learn when starting carp fishing is the basics of catch and release.
Not which colour hanger detects bites best when fishing 114 metres from the bank.
But how to safely handle his very first carp.

Ethical Boundaries?
Let’s get back to the original question: where do the ethical boundaries of this practice actually lie?
Once again, there is no absolute answer. Everyone sets their own limits wherever they choose.
The hardest part is finding the right balance between our convictions, what we say, and what we actually do.
Once again, it’s human behaviour in these situations that fascinates me.
Let’s take an example.
I’ve just settled on a hostile swim where it would be impossible to use a retention sling without risking finding the fish in pieces the next morning.
No problem — I won’t retain any fish because it’s dangerous and it wouldn’t fit with my vision of catch and release.
At 11 p.m., I catch a 25 kg fully-scaled carp.
It’s the fish of a lifetime… so what do I do?
How many of us would release that fish immediately, putting our ethics before our ego?
How many of us would still try to retain it, despite the 50 cm waves crashing against the rocky dam?
How many fish end up losing scales in situations like that every year?
I’m deliberately using a crude example here because it always triggers the same reaction:
"Yeah, but that’s extreme!"
A reaction that is always very comforting for the person saying it.
Now let’s look at a more subtle example.
This summer, several friends came to visit me at my workplace on the banks of Lake Saint-Cassien.
Many of them are anglers; some have been carp fishing for over thirty years.
Given the sometimes difficult fishing conditions, I shared a few tips with them — under certain ethical conditions.
For example:
"I’ll give you this spot, but you absolutely have to drop your lead (using stones instead) and add a buldo float to your line to help bring the fish to the surface, preventing it from burying itself in the tree stumps and rocks near the spot."
The response was:
"Yes, of course!"
Except that in reality, the spot was fished the old-fashioned way, and several fish were lost in the snags — which automatically means multiple injured fish.
The consequences of this behaviour are just as serious as in the first example.
However, because these consequences are less visible, this kind of situation happens on waters all over Europe, involving both experienced anglers and beginners.
Yet many of these situations could easily be avoided through experience sharing, transparency, compromise and honesty.
Unfortunately, those qualities don’t seem particularly fashionable among carp anglers these days.

Pearls Before Swine
My conclusion from this failure is simple: what’s the point of giving advice if it isn’t followed — or only followed halfway?
Situations like the one mentioned above make me feel twice as guilty.
First, because I fished that spot myself and lost a few fish before finding the right combination to extract them safely.
Second, because I passed on knowledge that I paid a certain price to acquire… to someone who didn’t bother applying it properly.
So I’ve become both a direct and indirect contributor to the mutilation of several fish.
Great.
Without even realizing it, I’ve crossed the ethical boundaries of what I claim to promote: catch and release — and therefore respect for the fish.
These two examples could easily serve as points on an imaginary graph showing the range of mistakes we may make throughout our lives as anglers.
No one is perfect. We all make mistakes.
But it’s our responsibility to learn from them and do everything possible to avoid repeating them.
By putting these negative experiences out there, by pointing them out openly and collectively thinking about solutions, we can help the next generation progress much faster on this subject.

The Carp Angler: A Notorious Amnesiac
Over the years, I’ve observed many paradoxical behaviours among so-called experienced anglers.
"I never fish dangerous spots!"
Yet during a difficult week of fishing, that same person won’t hesitate to place a rig 300 metres out, using a standard lead clip setup with the line running over snaggy bars.
The end justifies the means.
"I never leave my rods fishing when I leave my swim."
Except this time the neighbour’s bottle of win was simply too tempting to take two minutes to wind the rods in.
After all, there’s never a bite during that time slot on this swim…
"I always keep the fish in the water while it recovers to avoid injuries on the unhooking mat."
Well… that’s only during the summer.
The rest of the year, the water is simply too cold for my feet.
Just like in the previous article, these lines are not written to provide answers, but rather to encourage reflection on questions where we all have room for improvement.

One Last Story
I’ll finish this article with a rather telling experience.
In 2016, the company Déesse, which I had recently joined, offered to cover the French Junior Carp Fishing Championship.
For the event, the two company managers and I travelled to deliver the prizes and get a closer look behind the scenes of such competitions.
In the middle of the afternoon we arrived at the swim of two young anglers — around 10 to 12 years old — who were enjoying plenty of action.
A run occurred and, after a fairly quick fight, the two kids managed to land the fish.
Job done.
However, the two officials were strict and refused to help the children carry the fish from the water to the unhooking mat.
The result: the poor carp ended up in a very awkward position, fins spread out, scraping the ground several times and losing a few scales along the way.
I clearly remember one of the officials forbidding me to help them — under threat of
disqualification.
We were clearly in a situation where the ethical boundaries of catch and release were crossed in the name of competition rules.
What wonderful values to pass on to those kids that day, don’t you think?
So we shouldn’t be too surprised that nowadays so few anglers seem bothered by a broken tail or a completely destroyed mouth.
Sometimes I wonder when a particularly questionable brand will start promoting a new hook capable of hooking fish that no longer even have a mouth left.
Or worse — the day when anglers will proudly parade around with parrot-mouthed carp, claiming these fish are even more valuable because they’re harder to hook with the little lip they have left.
You think that could never happen?
At a time when fish sometimes seem to be worth no more than a tennis ball on a court, nothing surprises me anymore.
But that doesn’t stop it from saddening me every single day.

The ethics of our passion are nothing more than one of the pillars of a fragile temple.
And just like the Parthenon, that pillar could really use some serious restoration work.
Soël
In the same vein, you might also enjoy:
Why Do I Fish? A Carp Fishing Philosophy
https://www.brakass.com/post/why-do-i-fish-a-carp-fishing-philosophy
Cultivating Your Dreams in Carp Fishing
https://www.brakass.com/post/why-do-i-fish-a-carp-fishing-philosophy
Carp Retaining Slings: Do We Really Need Them?






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