Opinion
by Kent Hull
Some years ago, I asked my son why he was a little less than enthusiastic about fly fishing. He replied that he enjoyed fishing as a social activity, with his close friends, beer, relaxing, and catching anything was OK but not essential. Especially in the context of his friends' expectations, fly fishing was too...elitist.
Does fly fishing tend to be elitist? (By that I mean, do we think that choosing to fish with a fly rod and the traditions that go with it makes us elite among fishermen in general, and over the average bait fisherman in particular?) I think so, I think we earn the status, and I think it's a thing to take some pride in. But I believe we are elite largely in the context of our traditions.

The traditional heart of fly fishing is fishing moving water for salmonids. Fishing stillwater, saltwater, and for other families of fish is more recent in the tradition and considered ancillary and specialized, at least to some extent. I really don't believe we are elite among (non-salmonid) stillwater and saltwater fishermen, and among warm water species fishermen. And I don't think that fishermen in these categories view us as elitist. Maybe a little peculiar, but...
However, it has often seemed to me that average non fly fishermen, fishing a stream for trout, view us as snobs. I confess that it bothers me not at all: they're resentful that we think we're better than they are, and I say IS because I know we are. Although I (and probably most of you) take most of my pleasure in the superior aesthetics of fly fishing, that superiority is a matter of opinion. It doesn't elevate us above other fishermen: it just sustains our secret belief that we can take much more pleasure in our version of fishing than practitioners of "lesser" forms can in theirs. Ours has a rich literature, extensive traditions, and grace and artistry in execution of each of its facets.
So how are we fly fishermen better than non fly fishermen, at least on a trout stream? It's in the ethics that are a part of our tradition, though a more recent part. We have higher ethical expectations of ourselves and other fly fishermen as part of our tradition; non fly fishermen may have just as high expectations of themselves, but it's not part of the tradition of their form of fishing. And any superiority we can claim is strictly dependent on our adherence to those ethics. Last and certainly not least, the equipment and techniques of fly fishing lend themselves particularly well to these ethical practices.
The ethical practices that I believe give us our status are associated with our effect on the stream environment and fish populations. A trout stream is somewhat fragile and wild trout populations are even more fragile. We condemn as an individual a fly fisherman who litters the streamside with leader envelopes and food wrappers because we feel he should know better. We condemn non fly fishermen as a class when we see the streamside littered with bait containers, beer cans and skeins of discarded monofilament lethal to all kinds of wildlife. It may not be fair, but we condemn them as a class at least in part because as a class they don't have traditional expectations of better behavior. We observe that artificials-only waters generally have much better fishing (more fish and bigger) than unrestricted waters. We condemn bait fishermen as a class when we see them keeping every fish they catch, often beyond their ability to consume. (And because catching a fish on bait usually ends up killing the fish anyway.) We prize wild trout fisheries but the pressure on DFG to maintain put-and-take fisheries and against development of self-sustaining fisheries comes from non fly fishermen.
(I'm being grossly unfair to a small class of non fly fishermen. In my experience, skilled light and ultra-light spin fishermen using barbless lures in trout streams generally display skills as well as ethics at least as high as we aspire to.)
To be sure, many of our ethically superior behaviors are from reduced opportunity: we keep flies in fly boxes and we don't buy them in blister packs or disposable containers; we don't use large quantities of monofilament to snarl, lose or discard in huge wads; fly-caught fish have much lower hooking mortality, especially if handled properly; and it's more inconvenient to keep fish when working a stretch of stream with a fly rod than it is when fishing a particular spot with bait.
We do have some dirty little secrets, too, which undermine our claims to ethical superiority. We often use unnecessarily light tippets which means larger fish are much less likely to survive the protracted fight necessary to land them; we often continue to catch and release fish under stress (too-warm water, etc.) when we should know that hooking mortality will be high; we don't consider that about one of ten properly handled fish released will die, so catching and releasing fifty amounts to killing at least five; we are often careless about wading through spawning redds, destroying large numbers of eggs or fry; we don't take pains to minimize the use of fluorocarbon leaders and tippets and to rig them so that if we break off, no fluorocarbon will go with the fly (fluorocarbon is forever).
Well, so what?
We should be proud of our ethical superiority only when we actually adhere to superior ethics; being fly fishermen does NOT make us superior to non fly fishermen who adhere to the same high ethical standards. Our superiority is inclusive, not exclusive: our behaviors and attitudes must demonstrate that we welcome as ethical peers anyone who adheres to these standards. Even more important to the future of our sport, we must recognize that actions of other fishermen we feel deserve our scorn most often arise from ignorance of their consequences, not malevolence. I believe it is our obligation to inform and educate, in as non-confrontational manner as possible, to correct these behaviors so that we can welcome those other fishermen to our higher ethical level. I realize, perhaps more than most of you, that this is hard to do. But where we can, we must make the effort. Participation in events such as the Quail Hollow Day are an easy way for us to do a little of this education. Although that event focuses on the aesthetics of fly fishing, the ethics are intrinsic. Anyone we succeed in recruiting to our fold will almost necessarily come to strive to adhere to the same ethical standards.
What about our superior aesthetics? It doesn't mean we are superior. It means our sport has superior potential for a lifetime of enjoyment. It means that the only valid criticism of other versions of fishing (if performed ethically) is that they're not as much fun. And our version of fishing is inclusive. We must always make it clear that we seek to prove the aesthetic superiority of fly fishing by inviting everyone who will, to try it and share our fun.