The aspect of hunting that I do understand is the knowledge that you have the ability to feed your family if SHTF. What I don't like, and find disgusting, is the killing of trapped/baited animals and the perverse glee some hunters seem to get from it.
Understood.
For me hunting and fishing was a male bonding experience across generations. No matter how busy my Dad, Grandpa and Uncles were, no matter how conflicted were the schedules between my family and the male cousins, we all knew that twice a year we would have a chance to get together without females around to enjoy ourselves.
In the spring time that was on opening day week for fishing. We kids were allowed to skip two days of school and we would all go to a cabin the family owned on Lake Owen. We kids would anticipate the time. We would save our money to buy some new lures which we might use, keep, or trade with the cousins though we actually did most of our fishing with live bait. We would work with my Dad to make sure our boat was sanded, waxed, and in all manner ready to go (A precursor of what we would do several times over for the other boats we had at our lake home). Working like that taught us some skills and gave us time to talk we would not otherwise have made. We would head north and see family. The fishing was good. We would fish until we had caught what we would eat that night. Generally this was a very short time. Then we boys would swim, ski, and hang out. After dinner we would sit around a fire with the old folks, talk, and then go in and play poker. On the final day we might catch a few extra to clean and freeze to take home. If it had been an early spring we might find some scallions and asparagus to take home.
In the fall there would be pretty much an analog of the spring trip except hunting rather than fishing. In Wisconsin at the time you could get a 'party ticket' meaning five guys could take six deer with one of them being a doe if you liked. We processed all of the meat. Our family thanksgiving featured nothing store bought. Typically we would have venison, pheasant, goose, duck and a turkey in the years we could get one (turkeys not being plentiful in Wisconsin in those years but having made a bit of a comeback since). We had a taste for wild game and we ate a bit of it, supplemented by animals raised on our farm (We always kept a few sheep, pigs, and would take a steer or two in trade. We boys were responsible for these animals, and for keeping them well away from the dairy cows.). I had no illusions about food since we had to castrate those spring lambs and had to slaughter the animals we would eat and then take them to be processed. Some folks have so distanced themselves from the production of their food that they actually forget that the food they eat was once just as living as the food we hunted and farmed. Often we would have to work for the old German guy who processed the animals so I understood the matter very clearly seeing, helping, and cleaning up after.
As I got older, into my teens, and started enjoying intoxication I would still go out with my Grandfather. He liked hunting my dog (which is to say using her to assist him in hunting, not trying to track and shoot my dog) and he enjoyed deer hunting with me as others in the family dropped away and found other ways to occupy their time. I remember one year he got curious that I had not taken a shot. He knew I had great opportunities. He checked my gun and found it unloaded. He asked me about it. I told him I was high and it wouldn't be responsible to hunt in that condition or to even have a loaded gun, but I just liked walking the woods with him and hauling out his kill (he was getting too old to have him do so by that time). I told him I carried the gun so he would not feel like I was just there to look after him, but to hunt also. I told him I thought it would make us both more comfortable. He never told my father about me stoning.
To me hunting and game animals are a part of my upbringing. I understand that this is becoming less common and that some are put off by the activity. It seems cruel. Maybe it is, but it is nature's cruelty. We eat. To do so we kill, directly or indirectly through others. We did our own work in this regard, others, well they contract it out, whether they think of it that way or not. For me it is not Thanksgiving without wild game on the table. I don't know how some can eat those hormone, steroid, and antibiotic feed critters which get no exercise and live in their own filth. That said I don't condemn them or judge them for the perspectives with which they were raised. It takes all kinds. Some hunt, some buy from corporate stores, some from coopts or organic, free range, emotionally supportive human harvesters.
In my home my wife does not want to see any game on her table. She is a vegetarian. She tolerates store bought meet being served or consumed by others, but she finds hunting repulsive. I do not understand that, but I respect that. When I have a craving I cook what I have out of the deep freeze in the garage outside and eat it at times I know she will not be around. I respect her choices and she sort of tolerates mine.
As for a hunting ethos, mine is a reflection of my upbringing and the fact that though we supplemented our diets heavily with game we were in no manner dependent on it. We could easily have chosen to not hunt and had our household economics not effected one wit. A potentially failed hunt would not have ever left us hungry, That fact probably shaped the intensity with which we would pursue the activity.