Does Bass Fishing Suck?

Bass fishing is massive. We’re talking multi-million, maybe even billion-dollar massive. Boats, electronics, lures, international and collegiate-level tournaments—the industry keeps growing and growing.

Bunch of rusted ol’ bass lures laid out on a table, showcasing various shapes and colors designed to attract big ol’ bass.

But here in Northern California, fly fishing for bass has carved out its own niche, especially with the float-and-fly technique popularized by Ryan Williams of North Valley Fly Fishing. It’s a method that allows fly anglers to effectively target big, lethargic bass in colder and warming months when conventional tactics struggle. Yet, despite the rise of fly anglers getting in on the action, bass fishing as a whole has a complicated, and some might say shady, history.

Me holding a nice largemouth bass. Photo Credit: Ryan Williams

The black bass conspiracy

While several states boast endemic, and sometimes rare, species of black bass, they are not native to many parts of the U.S., including much of California. They were introduced, sometimes legally, sometimes not, and their spread across the country is deeply tied to the sport fishing industry. Some argue that black bass were planted intentionally to create and sustain a recreational fishery that could drive an entire economy - boats, tackle, tournament circuits, even tourism. The idea? Get people hooked on a species that fights hard, grows big, and is accessible in almost every body of water.

A client proudly displays a giant spotted bass caught using float n fly techniques.

For anglers who care about native ecosystems, bass can be a problem. In California, where native fish like steelhead and salmon are struggling, bass (especially smallmouths) compete with and even prey on native species. In some rivers and lakes, bass populations thrive while native fish populations crash. Also, the very reservoirs that have cut off native fish migration corridors and altered river systems have inadvertently created perfect habitat for bass.

These artificial lakes provide stable water levels, structure, and an abundance of forage, allowing bass populations to thrive in places where native fish once dominated. So, should we be celebrating this fishery, or questioning how it came to dominate our waters? It's a hard question to answer.

A scenic waterfall cascades over rugged rocks at the edge of Lake Oroville under a clear, blue sky.

Adding to the complexity, bass fishing also serves an unexpected purpose: taking angling pressure off steelhead and salmon during critical spawning months. With steelhead and Chinook salmon here in California facing immense challenges, giving them space to reproduce undisturbed is crucial. Having bass as a year-round alternative helps shift some of that fishing pressure away from these struggling native species.

Reservoirs as Bass Factories

Bass fishing tournaments are a dominant force in the world of bass fishing, often taking over entire lakes on weekends. Anglers in high-powered boats race to the best spots, catching, culling, and holding their biggest bass to bring back to the weigh-in station. The scale tells the story, and winners take home serious cash. But what happens after weigh-in is where the bass fishing tournament controversy starts.

2024 Bassmaster Classic on Grand Lake in Oklahoma.

When bass get transported miles from where they were caught, they don’t always survive the stress. Even if they do, they’re now disoriented, sometimes unable to return to their spawning areas. This reshuffling of fish populations isn’t something tournament organizers advertise, but it’s a real consequence of the competitive scene.

For casual anglers, this means showing up to your favorite fishing hole after a tournament weekend and realizing the structure that once held big bass is suddenly empty. The fish are still in the lake, but they’ve been relocated—sometimes permanently.

Professional bass anglers also target large female bass on their spawning beds, especially in the spring. This practice, while common in bass fishing, would be unthinkable in steelhead, trout, or salmon fisheries, where disturbing fish during the spawn is considered unethical and even illegal in some places. The stark contrast between these fisheries highlights just how differently bass are viewed compared to native, cold-water species.

After successful catch, this client proudly holds a native steelhead caught on the Lower American River.

And let's not get forget all the toxic trash added to the water by thousands of soft plastic baits being lost underwater in the pursuit of heavy bass. It's a real problem.

the ultimate Catch-and-Release fish

Bass fishing, whether in tournaments or within fly fishing circles, is largely a catch-and-release game. Unlike trout, steelhead, or even panfish, which many anglers keep for food, bass are often seen as a sport fish with little value beyond the thrill of the fight. The industry promotes this mindset—bass are for catching, not eating. (See images below of fresh, wild sockeye salmon caught and filleted on the banks of the Chulnilna River in Alaska.)

But this raises an interesting point: if bass are invasive in many waters and negatively impact native fish, why isn’t there more emphasis on harvesting bass to help balance ecosystems? Instead, the industry conditions anglers to release them, keeping populations high and the sport alive.

So bass, despite being one of the most pursued fish in America, have become a fish with a singular purpose—fun to catch, but not much else.

So, Does Bass Fishing Suck?

It depends on how you look at it. If you’re a fly angler in Northern California, bass fishing is incredibly fun, accessible, and offers year-round action. The float-and-fly technique has proliferated a simple and effective way to target these fish, making them a viable option when trout and steelhead fishing slows down. Plus, it provides a much-needed alternative for anglers who might otherwise be adding pressure to struggling native fisheries.

Red Truck Fly Fishing Co. owner and friend, James Park, holding a nice spotted bass caught in the Sacramento area.

But if you zoom out and look at the bigger picture—how bass were introduced, how the industry profits, and how tournaments affect fisheries—you start to see the cracks in the foundation.

Maybe the real question isn’t “does bass fishing suck?” but rather “who benefits from the way bass fishing exists today?” Because the fish sure aren’t the ones cashing in.

What’s your take? Is bass fishing a sport built on artificial hype, or just another evolution in angling culture? Drop your thoughts below.