The False Choice in Dog Training

The dog training world has always liked a fight.

Tools or no tools. Balanced or positive. Science or tradition. Control or choice. One side against the other, everyone certain they are protecting the dog from whatever the other side is doing wrong.

Lately, the growing divide feels like formula versus freedom.

Formula versus freedom

On one end, there is training that has become so formulaic and outcome-driven that it can disregard the dog almost entirely. It does not take enough account of the dog’s emotional state, individual nature, history, needs, or active learning. This kind of training promises a result and then pushes the dog into the formula.

On the other end, there is a growing suspicion among some trainers that training itself does dogs a disservice. That teaching dogs how to live with us is automatically a form of suppression, or that training is somehow, by nature, disrespectful to the dog.

I understand why both reactions exist.

Formulaic training that ignores the whole picture of the dog can become inelegant and unfair very quickly. The work becomes about fixing the behavior the owner sees as the problem, as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Stop the barking.

Stop the lunging.

Get the dog under control.

And to the degree that the owner is pleased, the program can look successful.

But sometimes the dog’s experience gets pushed aside.

At the same time, effective dog training does not have to be suppressive or coercive. It does not have to flatten the dog into a false version of “good.”

Dogs aren’t wild animals. They have coexisted and evolved alongside humans for a very long time, and they are part of the domesticated animal world. They live in our homes, neighborhoods, cities, and families. They have to navigate a human world with human expectations. Leaving them without clear communication, structure, and skills is not kindness.

That is the false choice I want to talk about.

Where trainers lose the thread

Most of us got involved in dog training because we love working with animals. We love hanging out with them, communicating with them, and creating that special bond, that feeling that we understand them and they understand us back.

There is something beautiful about that.

Then we turn it into a profession, and of course, we have to help the owners. We have to be results-driven. We have to create meaningful change in order to make a living doing the work. Dog trainers deserve to be paid well for their knowledge, experience, skills, and time.

But I think this is where trainers can start veering off the path.

To get the job done quickly and efficiently, make the numbers work, and build programs that are clear and appealing, the work can become very owner- and service-driven.

The owner wants a result.

The dog trainer must deliver.

The program gets built almost exclusively around the visible outcome.

While that’s understandable, it becomes a problem when the outcome outweighs the dog’s experience in the training process. It becomes a problem when the dog’s environment, outlets, welfare, history, and individual nature become secondary to getting the behavior to stop.

That is where we become shortsighted. That is where we can start losing the soul of the work.

It is also a problem when concern for the dog’s welfare turns into the idea that structure itself is suspect.

If a client comes to you because their dog is lunging and barking at every dog on the street, both the dog and the owner need help.

It is our job to problem-solve.

But if the only outcome we address is making the behavior stop, we can miss what the behavior is communicating. We create compliance without understanding. It’s all too common to make the dog easier to live with on the surface while still failing to address what the dog is struggling with underneath.

I’d like to see more trainers able to assess the individual dog, understand what’s driving the behavior, and have the flexibility to adapt their approach to the unique circumstances that every client and dog brings.

The sweet spot in the middle

We have to look at the whole picture of the dog without losing sight of the life the dog is actually living.

That means looking at the underlying cause of the behavior, the dog’s environment, outlets, welfare, emotions, history, and individual nature. It also means considering the client’s needs, the home the dog lives in, the cultural, social, and legal expectations, and the practical realities of daily life.

The owner’s desired outcome and the dog’s experience are both important. Our job is not to choose one over the other. The work is being skilled, honest, and thoughtful enough to hold both at the same time.

That doesn’t mean abandoning the ideal outcome. It means we stop pretending every dog starts from the same place or can be pushed through the same formula just because the sales page promises a result.

Training should help dogs and people understand each other more clearly. It should give the dog useful information. It should give the client a plan they can actually live with. It should not become control for its own sake, and it should not get so buried under theory that nobody knows what to do next.

Over the next couple of pieces, I’m going to keep pulling on this thread, because it leads into something very practical: the outcome the client wants is not always the first outcome the dog needs.

Before we can build the recall, clean up the walk, or change the reactivity picture, we must identify and acknowledge the dog’s baseline. It’s important to understand how they function and feel in the environment and what they bring to the first session.

That’s where the next piece begins.

If you’d like to learn more about my work with dog trainers and private clients, you can find it here.