I take pride in my attitude regarding after-the-catch fish care. Killing a bass will simply ruin my outing. In the moment, I just can't slough it off. But everyone here knows what happens before landing a fish. We drive razor sharp cold steel through their faces without a second thought. Maybe blow out an eye in the process, nick a gill creating a bloody mess, or a nasty tongue hooking. How about dragging them by the face through 100' of lily pad stalks, or through tree branches or over dock cables. The cold fact is that my reverence for the fish after-the-catch is the definition of cognitive dissonance. With that understanding and ultimately my acceptance of the truth about how I get my thrills, I'm in no position to judge anyone else.
Until this light-line phase came into being with the advent FFS, I'd watched tons of B.A.S.S. derbs going back decades where fish were routinely boat flipped using heavier gear where they're left to flop around on a boat deck. It's not something I'd do, yet it's still widely accepted as business as usual. I don't have to like it, but with what I've illustrated above I'm in no position to pat myself on the back or moralize to others. I prefer not being a hypocrite, even to myself.
With that, I find it a bit odd how passionate some seem to feel about a fishing U-toober. Personally, I reserve feelings of love or hate for my immediate and extended family members, or anyone who'd harm a child. Oh, and let's not leave out those sickos who'd be cruel to or terrorize innocent animals whether they be domestic or wild. Uh, oopsie.