Warning: Coloradans Couldn’t Even Get Protection of Hunting and Fishing Passed on Tuesday

By Chris Dorsey

Somewhere between proposing a constitutional right to hunt and fish and watching it go down in Colorado, sportsmen found themselves arguing about whether somebody’s Labrador might step in a steel-jawed trap.

Wayne Pacelle could hardly have asked for a better turn of events. As the leading anti-hunting architect in America, Tuesday’s results in Colorado gave him even more reason to raise money for ballot efforts.

Unofficial returns showed roughly 55 percent of voters opposed Amendment 83, which needed 55 percent approval to pass. That is a substantial defeat for a campaign whose supporters held a considerable fundraising advantage. Anyone who cares about hunting ought to spend some time figuring out how it happened.

I know how much work people put into this effort. Sportsmen opened their wallets, volunteered their time and took the argument into their communities. They deserve our thanks. They also deserve an honest assessment of why their investment failed. After nearly 40 years making television, films and writing about wildlife, I have learned to be wary of a message everyone in our business loves. Sometimes that means we have explained ourselves well. Often, however, it means we are talking only to ourselves.

Amendment 83 grew out of understandable frustration. Having beaten back the 2024 Proposition 127 campaign to ban mountain lion and bobcat hunting, supporters wanted protection against having to fight another expensive ballot battle every few years. The amendment would have established a constitutional right to hunt and fish, protected “traditional methods,” and made hunting and fishing preferred wildlife management tools, while retaining state regulatory authority.

Most hunters could see the point. Someone walking a dog in suburban Denver needed more convincing.

Pacelle and his allies went straight to that person. Their campaign website asked, “Fox or family pet?” and warned that steel-jaw traps could not tell the difference. Trapping billboards carried the argument into Denver. The phrase “traditional methods” gave opponents room to suggest that practices Colorado voters had already outlawed might return. They also used 83 campaign champions’ trapping affiliations to keep the subject front and center.

We could explain why existing prohibitions would remain. We could discuss constitutional interpretation and the authority of Colorado Parks and Wildlife. But by then, we were answering a question the opposition had chosen for us, with a frightened pet owner doing the listening.

That’s a miserable position from which to sell a constitutional amendment.

Those of us who work around wildlife agencies can forget how little most people know about them. We say “CPW” as though everyone has a biologist’s number saved in their phone. We assume voters understand regulated hunting because they approve of somebody hunting deer. Then we ask them to sort through a legal dispute over wildlife management on their way through a long ballot.

Consider the fight over Proposition 127. Mountain lion attack survivors, emergency calls and accounts of killed or injured pets gave people who had never hunted a reason to pay attention. They could imagine their own family in those circumstances.

Showing the aftermath of wildlife-vehicle collisions offered a similar opening in the Amendment 83 campaign, so long as we explained how hunting could minimize crashes. We produced such a spot for the 83 effort but, unlike ads for the 127 campaign which appeared in Denver Bronco games (the most watched TV event in the state). The collision spot didn’t receive the same distribution—whether it was a function of budget or strategy, I do not know. And realistically, there’s no way to understand from the returns that the argument could have overcome the antis’ trapping campaign—but it would have tapped into the powerful emotion of fear.

We also need to look hard at where our messages traveled. Plenty of sportsmen worked their platforms tirelessly. Yet a hunting video can collect thousands of approving comments without persuading many people who are undecided about hunting. Enthusiasm inside our own circle can give us a dangerously generous impression of how the campaign is going.

The money deserves scrutiny, too. Available committee reports and separately disclosed opposition advertising suggested an overall sportsmen’s advantage of roughly three to one. Final totals may change that comparison. And the state reported that supporters spent $1.65 million gathering signatures, a large expense incurred before the measure even reached voters. Counting that money as though it all bought advertising exaggerates the advantage. Still, the defeat should end any comforting assumption that we can outspend our way past a message problem.

Opponents also assembled a coalition whose names were familiar outside hunting. Sierra Club Colorado, Denver Audubon and the League of Women Voters joined educators and community organizations. Sitting Governor Jared Polis, Marlon Reis (Polis’ First Gentleman) and Governor-elect Phil Weiser opposed the amendment. A voter didn’t have to share Pacelle’s views on hunting to find someone on that list whose judgment they trusted.

Our organizations should examine whether they have enough advocacy capacity, including affiliated 501(c)(4)s. But blaming tax status would let us off too easily. Public charities can participate in ballot campaigns within lobbying limits, and the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation already has an associated c4, Hunt 2 Conserve. Better organization will help only if we give people a reason to listen—especially the 95 percent of Americans who do not hunt.

That work has to happen well before petitions circulate. Americans who never hunt still benefit from habitat conservation and the wildlife management hunters help finance. We have spent decades expecting the public to appreciate that arrangement with remarkably little explanation of what they get from it. We have a great product to sell with little to no marketing campaign to grow public acceptance. Should we then wonder why we’re vulnerable at the ballot box?

Pacelle will study this election before coming back and is likely already working the donor phones to double down on ballot box biology. We had better examine the existential threat the referendum process poses. If we don’t, another fundraising appeal and another round of congratulations for working hard will leave us explaining traps again.

 

Chris Dorsey is a Coloradan, media veteran, biologist, outdoor television producer and natural history filmmaker.