Father Damian Schmelz was an inspiring conservationist. Our introduction was an interview for an Outdoor Indiana article I wrote while working for the Indiana DNR back in 2009. He was a Benedictine monk of St. Meinrad Archabbey, a Ph.D. plant ecologist, a conservation leader who served on Indiana’s Natural Resources Commission for 33 years and a fellow Purdue Boilermaker. For decades, he was the state’s moral compass on natural resources and a steady hand when controversy threatened to fracture public trust.
One of Father Damian’s most consequential contributions was chairing the committee that led to controlled deer hunts in Indiana state parks. At the time, deer had overwhelmed the parks, stripping the forest floor bare and endangering native flora. It was deeply controversial to even suggest culling deer in state parks. Citizens without an understanding of the natural world couldn’t understand how the overpopulation of one species was negatively impacting so many other species of plants, animals, and insects.
Removing excess deer was necessary. Animal rights advocates protested. Hunters were divided. Politicians, surprise, couldn’t agree. Yet, guided by science and grounded by ethics, Father Schmelz led the state to make the right decision. He believed in the data, conducted personal observation, and with the ultimate conviction of protecting God’s creation for the long-term, he convinced others to embrace the larger scope of natural resources stewardship. This meant many deer had to be immediately removed from a number of state parks, and controlled hunts would be used in the future to control deer populations.
I spoke of Father Damian recently at a Backcountry Hunters & Anglers gathering in Indiana. The conversation reminded me how desperately we need figures like him today. We are living through a cultural shift where science is no longer the shared foundation for decision-making. Too often, loud voices drown out the measured ones. Misinformation travels faster than data. In the hunting world, there’s a disturbing trend of too many people chasing ego and online attention instead of the historic reasons for hunting: food, community, and conservation.
Scroll through social media and it’s easy to find hunters who appear more concerned with likes and followers than with ethical pursuits or connecting to the land. We’re regularly reading about the latest hunting “celebrity” to face wildlife violation charges, because they crossed the line to feed the monster. The grip-and-grin photo has been part of hunting culture since cameras were invented, and when done tastefully photos of smiling faces and respectful displays of harvested game still have their place. But the endless pursuit of online validation is far different. It warps motivations. It breeds competition for attention rather than respect for wildlife. It cheapens a sacred act.
Contrast that with Father Schmelz. He wasn’t against tough decisions, but he was rooted in humility. He studied old-growth forests for half a century, taking tree measurements in Indiana woodlots every decade since the 1950s. He worked alongside professors, students, and citizens who believed nature deserved faithful stewards. Because he was quiet, when he spoke people listened. He was consistent and credible. He showed us that conservation leadership is about service, not self-promotion.
The hunting community is at a crossroads. If hunting is to remain socially acceptable, it cannot be defined by the loudest influencers. Hunting must be anchored in the principles that have always justified our actions in the public eye. We need the public to see hunters as providers of food, care for wildlife, landscape stewardship, funding conservation, and traditions that bind generations. Surveys show non-hunters overwhelmingly support hunting for meat and population control, but support plummets when it’s perceived as trophy or ego-driven.
We need disciples of Father Damian to step into the fray, armed with science and humility, ready to defend the purpose of hunting against both external critics and internal extremists. These leaders don’t need to be priests or professors. They only need to be thoughtful, educated, and committed to serving something larger than themselves. They must model what it looks like to blend science with ethics, tradition with adaptation, and passion with restraint.
Father Damian told me he’d dreamed of being a park ranger in Yellowstone National Park six days a week and then hold Mass in the park on Sunday. His ecological and evangelical blend was unique. He was devoted, joyful, curious, and committed to stewardship. I wish he were still with us. I have questions I’d like him to answer. Yet, I do believe I already know what he would say. Such belief seems like the ultimate testimony to a teacher’s effectiveness.
Each of us can choose to carry forward Father Damian’s model of servant leadership for natural resources. Theodore Roosevelt said, “The wildlife and its habitat cannot speak, so we must and we will.” Each of us can push back against the drift away from traditional hunting values by insisting on truth, science, and humility. The future of hunting is in our hands.
