This is, ultimately, about money—where land use generates income.
For a decade, Britain's rarest birds of prey have been shot, trapped, and poisoned on land managed for game shooting, with 921 confirmed attacks recorded between 2015 and 2024. The law has not stopped the killing. At the heart of the conflict lies an ancient tension between wild creatures and commercial land use — between what the countryside is for and who decides. The question now before government is whether criminal prosecution alone can ever be sufficient, or whether a new architecture of accountability must be built.
- Over 900 confirmed killings of protected raptors in a single decade represent not a fringe problem but a persistent, documented pattern of wildlife crime.
- Three convictions secured this year — including a gamekeeper filmed arriving at a hen harrier roost with a shotgun — reveal both the sophistication of the crimes and the difficulty of catching those responsible.
- The RSPB argues that criminal courts set too high a bar for enforcement, and that a licensing regime could allow estates to lose operating rights at a lower civil standard of proof.
- The shooting industry, citing £500 million in annual conservation spending, insists persecution is the work of a small minority and that licensing would punish responsible operators for the sins of a few.
- The government has not committed to licensing but says it will explore the proposal alongside other measures — leaving the fate of Britain's birds of prey suspended in political negotiation.
Between 2015 and 2024, the RSPB recorded 921 confirmed attacks on protected birds of prey across Britain — eagles, red kites, peregrine falcons, hen harriers, goshawks, barn owls. The word confirmed is deliberate: the charity's investigations unit, staffed by former police officers, counts only cases backed by forensic evidence, eyewitness testimony, or video proof. More than half of these killings took place on or near estates managed for game shooting.
The motive is not mysterious. Birds of prey eat the pheasants, partridges, and grouse that paying hunters come to shoot. Remove the predators, and more game survives. Mark Thomas, head of the RSPB's investigations unit, says plainly that this is about money. The shooting industry disputes the framing, pointing to the £500 million its members spend annually on conservation and arguing that persecution is the work of a small, condemned minority.
This year's three convictions tell a harder story. Two involved birds trapped in legal pest-control snares and then beaten to death — a buzzard and a goshawk. The third came from covert cameras at a hen harrier roost in the Yorkshire Dales, where footage captured a head gamekeeper arriving with a shotgun and audio recorded conversations about killing other protected species. This was not negligence. It was planning.
The RSPB is calling for gamebird shooting in England and Wales to be licensed, as red grouse shooting already is in Scotland. Under such a system, licenses could be suspended at the civil standard of proof — a lower bar than criminal conviction — meaning estates could face real consequences even when prosecution proves elusive. The shooting industry opposes the measure, arguing it would burden responsible operators and that stronger individual prosecution is the proper remedy.
The government says it will explore licensing alongside other options. Professor Davy McCracken, who has spent 35 years studying upland land management, frames the conflict in economic terms: the tension is ultimately about where land generates income and how that income is protected. The deeper question facing Britain is whether its existing laws can actually stop the killing — or whether protection, to mean anything, requires new tools entirely.
A decade of documented killings tells a story that Britain's wildlife laws have failed to stop. Between 2015 and 2024, the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds recorded 921 confirmed attacks on some of the country's rarest raptors—eagles, red kites, peregrine falcons, hen harriers, goshawks, barn owls. The word "confirmed" matters here. The RSPB's investigations unit, staffed by former police officers and bird experts, only counts cases backed by forensic evidence, eyewitness testimony, or video proof. They are not speculating. More than half of these killings occurred on or near estates managed for game shooting.
The motive is straightforward. Birds of prey eat game birds—pheasants, partridges, grouse—the very creatures that paying customers come to shoot. Remove the predators, and more birds survive to be killed by hunters. This is, as Mark Thomas, head of the RSPB's investigations unit, put it, about money. The shooting industry disputes this characterization. Organisations representing the sector say persecution is the work of a small minority and that they condemn it entirely. They point to the £500 million their members spend annually on conservation work—equivalent, they argue, to 26,000 full-time jobs and 14 million workdays.
Yet the evidence gathered by RSPB investigators this year alone has secured three convictions. Two involved birds trapped and then beaten to death—a buzzard in one case, a goshawk in another. Live-capture traps are legal for controlling pest species like crows and pigeons, but they must be checked regularly and non-target animals released unharmed. The third conviction came from covert surveillance at a hen harrier roost in the Yorkshire Dales. Hidden cameras captured a head gamekeeper arriving with a shotgun. Audio recordings documented conversations about killing other protected birds and whether a harrier might be satellite-tagged. This was not accident or negligence. This was planning.
The RSPB argues that criminal prosecution, however necessary, is not enough. Convictions are difficult to secure and slow to come. The charity is calling for gamebird shooting in England and Wales to be licensed—a system already in place for red grouse shooting in Scotland. Under such a regime, licenses could be suspended or withdrawn at the civil standard of proof, meaning the bar for enforcement would be lower than the criminal threshold. Estates would face real consequences for killings on their land, even when prosecution proves difficult.
The shooting industry opposes licensing, arguing it would penalise responsible operators and add unnecessary regulation to activities already covered by law. Dr Marnie Lovejoy of the British Association for Shooting and Conservation told the BBC that what is needed instead is stronger law enforcement to prosecute individuals who commit these crimes. The government has not endorsed the RSPB's proposal but says it will explore licensing alongside other measures with the shooting sector and conservation groups.
Professor Davy McCracken, who has spent 35 years studying upland management and wildlife at Scotland's Rural College, frames the conflict in economic terms. The tension between protecting birds of prey and managing land for grouse shooting is ultimately about money—where land use generates income and how that income is protected. He agrees that persecution is carried out by a minority, but warns that focusing only on the criminals can obscure the conservation work happening elsewhere in the sector. The question facing Britain is whether the current system of laws and enforcement can actually stop the killing, or whether new tools—licensing, civil liability, stricter oversight—are necessary to make protection real.
Notable Quotes
The killings are about money, with birds of prey targeted to stop them taking young pheasants, partridges or grouse.— Mark Thomas, head of RSPB investigations unit
The tension between protecting birds of prey and managing land for grouse shooting is ultimately economic.— Professor Davy McCracken, Scotland's Rural College
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does this keep happening if these birds have been legally protected for decades?
Because the law hasn't made it costly enough to stop. A conviction is hard to secure and takes years. Meanwhile, a single bird of prey can eat dozens of game birds a season. The math favors the shooter.
But surely the shooting industry has an interest in following the law?
Some do, genuinely. But others see it as a cost of doing business—a small risk compared to the profit from a successful shoot day. And proving who did it is nearly impossible without cameras or witnesses.
So the RSPB wants licensing. What would that actually change?
It shifts the burden. Instead of proving a crime happened, you'd just need to show it probably happened. A license could be suspended at the civil standard of proof, not the criminal one. Estates would have skin in the game.
The shooting industry says that's unfair to the responsible operators.
That's the trade-off. You either regulate the whole sector and catch the bad actors, or you let individual crimes slide because they're hard to prosecute. There's no middle ground that works.
Is there any chance this actually gets fixed?
The government is listening, which is new. But the shooting sector has real political weight and economic clout. Change will be slow, and it will require someone to decide that protecting a hen harrier matters more than protecting an industry's autonomy.