Theresa May has announced that, if she remains Prime Minister after June 8th, her government will aim to overturn the ban on hunting foxes with hounds which was introduced in 2004.
Personally, I have a big problem with this.
It’s not that it’s a staggeringly cruel blood sport in which animals are encouraged to rip one another to pieces.
It’s not that it’s an environmental nightmare, where large hunts and shoots - replete with culvert-wrecking SUVs - can wreak havoc with local ecosystems in the name of bogus ‘conservation’.
It’s not that it’s a net-drain on local economies, generating only a handful of part-time jobs which often pay only ‘tips’ from landowners rather than actual lasting contracted jobs - with hunt-goers preferring posh champagne picnics over local produce.
It’s not even that it’s an antiquated social ritual with its roots in the imagined feudal past, which evolved as an elaborate ruling-class masquerade to display exclusive land rights over those of their tenants to other wealthy landholders.
It’s that I positively, deeply, truly, can’t abide knowing that at any given moment, somewhere in the leafy dells of the Costwolds or on the weathered moors of the Peak District, an inbred plutocrat is having fun.