Not many words in the English language are stronger than "merciless." Two of its definitions are "showing no mercy or compassion toward somebody or something" and "very strict or harsh in the treatment of other people and extremely intolerant of their weaknesses or mistakes."

It's not a pleasant word. Most would agree that merciless is not something that human beings should aspire to be, and thankfully, such aspirations go against our very nature. The majority of us know that we're nowhere close to perfect and thus we don't demand absolute perfection from others.

It's become clear, however, that the people who run bass tournaments at all levels must adopt such a supreme being-type mentality in regard to potential cheating, and those who compete in the tournaments must submit to it and embrace it. B.A.S.S. founder Ray Scott had it right way back in 1967. As he wrote last week in a Scott On-Line column: "The only way to control cheating was through a stringent set of rules, mercilessly enforced."

Mercilessly enforced. No compassion. Strict, harsh treatment. Intolerance for weakness or mistakes.

Let's face it, people. When it comes to cheating in bass tournaments, or even the hint of dishonesty, that's just the way it has to be. The Nate Wellman incident at the Erie Bassmaster Northern Open has proven that in spades.

This thing dragged on way longer than it should have, simply because B.A.S.S. failed to take a merciless approach in dealing with it. If there's a good thing to come out of it, it's that the organization should know better next time.

The five-man committee that ruled on the issue – co-angler Joe Stois reported that Wellman had repeatedly attempted to "buy" a 4-pound smallmouth that Stois had caught – appeared to err on the side of mercy. B.A.S.S. owners Jerry McKinnis, Don Logan and Jim Copeland, tournament director Trip Weldon and tournament manager Chris Bowes are good, honorable men who tried to come up with a resolution that was fair to everybody involved. There was a considerable amount of gray area, as only Wellman and Stois were on that boat, and Wellman claimed that his fish-buying comments were merely in jest.

I firmly believe the committee's intent was good, but its decision was off the mark. There was no reason to examine the murky gray area when everything that needed to be dealt with was right there in the vivid black and white.

The committee was absolutely convinced that Wellman, an Elite Series pro, had broken B.A.S.S. Rule 3 (vii), which makes it a violation for any competitor to suggest that another competitor break any of the B.A.S.S. rules. Rule 3 has a yelling-fire-in-a-crowded-theater component to it: It doesn't matter whether you were joking or not, it's still a no-no.

If the committee wasn't sure that the rule had been violated, there would've been no basis for issuing Wellman the substance-lacking $2,500 fine and 1-year probation that was announced a few days after the conclusion of the tournament. With that level of certainty in place, what was called for was the disqualification of Wellman's final-day bag, which would've nullified the win and the accompanying Classic berth.

Wellman would've griped, but he'd have had no solid ground to stand on. He undoubtedly admitted to violating the letter of that rule, even while maintaining that all of his offers to Stois were lighthearted and innocent.

In the solemn aftermath, just about all other concerned parties would've said, "Hey, too bad, but that's the way it goes. Those rules are there for a reason." But what we have instead is a large percentage of the fan base up in arms because they feel that a rule was not properly enforced. In light of how the rule reads, Stois' adamant contention that the proposal was serious and specific and the failure to administer polygraph examinations to both anglers, that seems to be a valid position.

Wellman and B.A.S.S. have since come to a "mutual agreement" that the angler will not fish any more of the organization's events until next March. That took him out of the final Northern Open at Oneida, and thus out of the 2012 Classic (anglers who gained Classic slots via Open victories this year are required to fish the full circuit). His absence at Shreveport will be a good thing – that would've been an ugly scene. But all things considered, he made out pretty well, as he was allowed to keep the $53,000 winner's booty.

It's my opinion that B.A.S.S.'s ruling committee contained at least three members too many. If the whole thing had been left up to Weldon (perhaps in consultation with Bowes, who was the top on-site official) and he'd had the blessings of the higher-ups to do what he felt was right, this thing would've been resolved before the last tournament boat left Sandusky, Ohio. Weldon has proven in the past that he has no tolerance for rules violations, regardless of their nature, and that he doesn't play favorites. He once sent the top angler in the game home from an Elite Series tournament before it even started and he's given big, fat zeroes to other luminaries at the Classic for incidents that were far less serious than the suggestion of cheating.

Is Weldon a merciless human being? Not hardly. But he understands that in a sport in which the participants compete miles apart, most of the time far out of the view of the cameras and all but one spectator, the rules must be enforced precisely how they're written in the book.

There's simply no room for mercy. Even a moderate amount of it will flat-out kill the sport.