Either you’re OK using methods and equipment when working with dogs that cause pain, fear, and purposeful discomfort, or you’re not.
I am not.
Every so often in the dog world, some new event or happening triggers a new iteration of the same recurring argument. Having had a uniquely public platform in this super-passionate ecosystem for the past two decades, I’ve certainly played my part over the years in both instigating conversations and participating in versions of this never-ending dance, especially earlier in my dog training career. But at this point, my take on how and whether to engage has evolved in part due to my weariness that this argument persists even after so much progress has been made in the dog training industry.
For those blessedly unaware of the latest kerfuffle, there is yet another episode furiously underway, with dog trainers and dog lovers from all corners of the ideological spectrum weighing in. As a veteran in this industry, I view most attempts from the ‘balanced’ or more punishment-centered side to rekindle a supposedly fresh re-examination of the debate with an intensifying dose of hard-earned skepticism. In these days when literally anyone with an internet connection can broadcast an opinion via one of billions of tiny (but very loud) individual digital megaphones, it is increasingly difficult for me to believe that dogs will benefit as a result of these conversations.
Regardless, the game is on yet again.
What’s different this time for me is the clarity that has surfaced as I was digesting some well-reasoned and powerful arguments presented by peers of mine in both camps of the dog training world whose opinions I respect even if I don’t agree with some of them. I don’t discount their passion and eloquence even if I don’t support what they’re saying. It’s important to listen to all voices, but listening doesn’t mean you have to agree.
It’s rare (for me, anyway) that the clouds of complexity clear away to reveal such a straightforward approach towards topics that more often confound and twist their way into a tangled mess. But that clarity is what I’m experiencing now, as the dog training world once again weighs the functional, ethical, and philosophical concerns relating to how we train and approach our relationship with dogs.
To summarize quickly, the current debate centers on whether there is common philosophical ground to be found among what many have taken to calling ‘balanced’ trainers – where the use of both positive and compulsion methods are employed to both teach behaviors and stop unwanted behavior – and positive trainers who avoid the use of physical punishment. Listening to the two camps go at one another through post after post on social media, I realized that despite all the noise, it’s actually very simple:
Either you’re ok using methods and equipment when working with dogs that cause pain, fear, and purposeful discomfort, or you’re not.
I am not.
In my professional opinion, which comes from years of working with all kinds of dogs, many with serious behavioral issues, there are no circumstances under which I will validate the use of methods and devices that intimidate dogs into complying in order to achieve a desired result. No matter the breed, no matter how severe the behavior I’m working on, no matter the size of the dog or the dog’s behavioral history, and certainly regardless of whether the dog is from a rescue situation.
You see, for me, using punitive methods is simply not necessary to achieve effective, long-lasting results. And – much more importantly – it doesn’t feel right to train a dog with force, pressure and pain. So it’s really that simple. Ask yourself - are you ok using punitive techniques to teach dogs to do different tasks and to change a dog’s behavior or not?
I’m not.
I don’t like the use of the word ‘balanced’ in the context of how it’s used by trainers to attempt to soften and add enlightenment to what is essentially the allowance of punitive techniques in dog training. But I’ll use it (in quotes) here temporarily for the sake of ‘clarity’ - another often misused word in the dog training world to justify the use of punitive methods and equipment.
‘Balanced’ trainers often argue that they prefer and predominantly use positive methods, but that punishment is needed sometimes so the dog has more ‘clarity’. This is particularly relevant, they say, for extreme cases that require the use of punishment-based tools and techniques to change behavior and ultimately serve the dog’s best interests. I understand why they say that and why they get so defensive when they are challenged. Like it or not, they are just as passionate about their ways as positive trainers are about theirs.
Here in the American south we are known for our archaic animal protection laws (which we are fighting to make better); having some of the worst puppy mills in the nation; dog fighting (even though it is illegal); and a huge pet overpopulation problem. 80% of dogs in our municipal shelters are large breeds, including pitbull type dogs. My work in animal rescue means that I have aided in countless busts of these backyard breeders and puppy mills, some with 400 or more dogs in one place ranging from chihuahuas to huskies, pomeranians to German shepherds; handling and working with dogs that have experienced little human contact and suffered unbelievable trauma. I have been first on scene assisting in the rescue and shutting down of dog fighting establishments, hidden rural dog fighting rings that are so large, local authorities have to bring in the FBI to investigate. Along with my colleagues I am often the first to touch these dogs that have been so broken by people, and are wary of human contact as a result - especially from strangers. These dogs would be labeled by some trainers as ‘red zone’ dogs - (a label I despise by the way, but one that is often used to describe dogs with extreme behaviors) - the hardest of the hard, the toughest of the tough. People have abused these dogs relentlessly for their own twisted pleasure and financial gain, and the damage runs deep.
So, because these dogs are considered ‘extreme’ and difficult, does that justify the use of punitive techniques to train them because it will save their lives? The answer is no, but that is an argument regularly made by balanced trainers to justify the use of shock and compulsion while waxing lyrical about the ‘dangers of positive training’ in such scenarios. I do scratch my head with this one, because positive trainers save lives everyday without using harsh methods and devices like shock collars. I would never subject these amazingly resilient but traumatized dogs to even a harsh word in order to satisfy an agenda where the health and wellness of the dog in my care is not my top priority. Why would I want to cause more suffering for these dogs by using punitive training in an attempt to ‘rehabilitate’ them? I won’t. Ever. And if a dog needs more time to adjust to life outside the only home they have ever known, however awful it is, I will honor them with that time. I will be patient and gain their trust so I can rebuild their spirit and show them that life with people is not scary or painful. And I will do it with the help of the amazing shelter staff and volunteers that take these dogs in and work tirelessly to rehome them if they are lucky enough to survive their many horrific physical and mental wounds that run so deep. In many cases, we don’t have the luxury of time, but even then we work to make time a top priority too so that dogs can truly heal and not merely exist under threat again. These examples are extreme, I know, but every dog’s journey should be respected, regardless of where they have come from and what their issues are. And that extends to how they are trained.
Two particularly tiresome and popular refrains among fans of ‘balanced’ training are that ‘there is more than one way to train a dog’ and ‘why wouldn’t you use every tool available to you as a dog trainer.’
On the first question, of course there are indeed countless approaches to training dogs, and many of those are very effective and avoid the use of pain, fear and intimidation. But there are also sadly plenty of ways to train dogs that do cause pain and intimidate, and for me those methods cross the ethical line and go against the gut instinct of what I believe is right.
There is also an ignorance about the speed and effectiveness of positive training techniques that is often batted around by folks who don’t want to learn how to train dogs with welfare and well-being first and foremost in their minds. ‘Balanced’ trainers often mock positive trainers for being ‘soft’ and using food, for example. Well then I guess they’re just going to have to continue to mock because we positive trainers love using food! I say thank goodness for food - and its power to make connections. If it works with my dog fighting rescues and my puppy mill dogs as a beautiful bridge to trust and helps them feel safe so that we can start the healing process, then let’s eat all day! I also use other reinforcers to build connections, but the dog dictates what he or she likes, not me. I listen to that voice and provide what the dog needs and because I listen, these beautiful, fragile beings start finding joy in simple activities they were never allowed to experience so that healing can begin.
As much as compulsion trainers like to mock the positive camp’s use of food because it may have been less effective for them at some point (using food properly in training does take a lot of understanding and skill in choice, delivery, context etc), most positive trainers use different reinforcers too, like toys, play and life rewards. Fortunately we are blessed with a plethora of choices, and dogs are very good at telling us what they prefer as long as we listen to them. I’m sure if dogs could take part in these discussions they would laugh at the often espoused argument some trainers make that food is bribery and give them the side eye as they chomp down joyfully on their tasty treat. “Silly humans!” they would say. People use food to make connections, give themselves little rewards now and then and make themselves feel better, so why can’t it do the same for dogs? Done. Let’s move on.
As ignorant as it is for balanced trainers to mock what positive trainers do or don’t do, it’s also unhelpful when positive trainers say that punitive training doesn’t work - it does - and often with impressive looking results, even if those results are short-lived or rely on force and suppression to maintain them. The power of the proverbial fist is very strong. The ever-present threat is an effective motivator and we humans feel powerful when we wield it. Even though we know that the physical and psychological fallout for dogs trained in this way can be profound and damaging, it’s highly reinforcing when people see that it works even if it’s just for that moment and they have to keep repeating it. And that reinforcement validates the use of punitive methods for many handlers even when they know it is not entirely ethical. Success at any cost is very motivating.
While we’re on this subject, let’s stop with the other much jeered myth that positive trainers let their dogs get away with ‘bad’ or dangerous behavior. Any trainer worth their salt doesn’t. We do say no and of course we institute boundaries with our dogs. It would be stupid not to. We can be firm, but fair, and we understand and believe in the power of positive training to achieve results no matter the situation. It also feels really good to heal even ‘extreme’ behavior without using force, pain or fear but that does take patience, experience and skill. Many trainers who resort to using punitive methods may lack the skills to teach positively and provide force-free feedback when things aren’t going according to their plan. I wish they would take the time to learn though, because it feels really good! Most of us have used some form of punitive techniques in our careers, but it didn’t feel right so we moved on. Some of my best friends in this business are ‘cross-over’ trainers and when they decided to change they never went back. This is the exciting thing about the dog training industry - it is constantly evolving and moving towards more dog-centric care. Why would anyone want to go backwards or stay stuck in the past when moving forwards is so much more enriching and exciting? When we know better, we do better.
None of this takes into account the more fundamental questions many of us are rightly asking more often as enlightened, progressive trainers: why are we working with dogs in the first place? And does our quest to ‘achieve a result’ discount our commitment to balancing (used correctly here!) our need to live successfully alongside dogs with our responsibility to serve their best interests and appreciate their life experience?
So I ask again: are you ok using pain, fear and purposeful discomfort in dog training or not?
I’m not.
All of us are different, and we have varying levels of tolerance for where the line resides between ethical and unethical. My line sits firmly and clearly and I will not cross it. If you feel like using a little fear or a little pain or discomfort is something you think is ok to make the ends justify the means, then we simply disagree. And that’s ok. But don’t ask me to find common ground by compromising where that ethical line falls for me. It’s not ok with me, and I won’t endorse or support it, especially because I know that when used properly and effectively, positive methods are safer, longer-lasting, and more effective for all dogs no matter their job or purpose in this world.
For the question why we wouldn’t want to use every tool in your toolbelt, I can’t believe we still have to spell this out. Again, it’s not complicated. I don’t want to use any tool that will cross the line. Does that really need further explanation? If I were a dentist with all of the typical tools of dentistry in my toolbelt – novocaine, fine-bit drills, etc – and someone offered me a sledgehammer to add to my toolbelt, I would choose not to use it. So just because a tool exists, it doesn’t mean it’s right to use it.
I’ll take anyone’s word for it when they say they love dogs. I don’t question or disrespect that person’s word or motives, even if our ethical lines are drawn using different degrees of acceptance. But don’t ask me to compromise by condoning the use of tools and methods that I believe are not right and don’t expect me to stand shoulder to shoulder with people who use them. We might find common ground when it comes to discussing things like enrichment or what our favorite dog sports are, but we will be on very different playing fields when it comes to validating the use of harmful and risky methods as well as devices that intimidate, cause pain and exacerbate fear in dogs.
So that’s it. Uncompromised simplicity.
It’s that simple.