And so, many dog guardians – or dog trainers – don’t think that I have anything to teach them.
And they tell me so often enough to warrant an explanation as to why in the world I think it’s a good idea for me to teach about dog training even though I’m *not* a dog trainer.
Actually, I’m also not a horse trainer, but the horse guardians and horse trainers that I come across don’t voice that particular concern – at least not to my face 😉 … but this applies equally to them. And yes, the same also goes for all the other animal species out there.
This blog post could be named Animal training is like brain surgery, and everything that I discuss here is equally relevant to other species too.
Just replace the word “dog” in everything that follows with your preferred species..!
I think that the mistake that people make is that they think that dog training is sort of like driving a car.
And naturally, if you want to learn how to drive, you should learn from an experienced driver. They don’t have to be a mechanic or understand what’s going on underneath the hood, but your driving teacher needs to have personal experience in driving, and that’s simply non-negotiable. Anything else would just be preposterous.
And I totally agree! That makes total sense – when it comes to learning how to drive.
But here’s the thing.
I think that dog training is more like brain surgery than it is like driving a car.
Perhaps somewhat unexpectedly, dog training has a lot in common with brain surgery.
Is your dog afraid of fireworks? How about thunder?
Keep reading, this blog post contains everything you need to know. This post is updated and all the links are double-checked about twice a year, last on June 12th, 2025 – look for the “revised” signs in the post to find the latest changes.
Is your dog not fearful of fireworks, thunder or other loud noise?
Keep reading anyway. That may change, and you should be prepared.
It’s the combination of different techniques that produce the best effect (Crowell-Davis et al., 2003: 93%). Nobody’s tried using all the techniques suggested in this blog post, as far as I know.
What follows below is a chapter from my full course Animal Emotions.
To be quite transparent, it’s one of the chapters that has the least practical application when it comes to caring for captive animals, but it is also, hands down, the one chapter in all my online courses that leaves students the most flabbergasted.
And given how the subject of gender identity has become politicized in the last few years, I thought that maybe sharing some very basic facts would be a way to contribute.
There was an article in a Norwegian dog magazine (an English translation is in the comments’ section below) this week, essentially claiming that by delivering an electric shock to a dog a single time as it runs towards a flock of sheep, you can stop it from ever chasing sheep again. Indeed, it gets a diploma to show that it’s “sheep-proofed”. There are no other ways of teaching this behaviour, the article claims, and also, it suggests that it’s a way to increase the overall quality of life of the shocked dogs.
The article implies that a single shock in a single location is all it takes to make dogs sheep-proof forever.
Needless to say, this article has stirred a lot of feelings within the Norwegian R+ community.
And for good reason.
Now, I don’t train dogs myself, but reading through it I found I have four areas of concern:
I find the latest scientific contribution on the issue of shock collars to be frustrating – even outrageous.
Lots of problematic articles are published every day, but this one potentially has far-reaching consequences, and so I feel a lengthy, occasionally nerdy and also somewhat rambling blog post is in order.
I won’t describe the paper down to a T, but lift specific topics that I take issue with, so I encourage you to skim it before reading this post – or not…
In short, the authors found that teaching dogs to refrain from chasing a fast-moving lure was effective when shock-collars were used, however attempting to train the behaviour in a slightly shorter time frame using “food rewards” (50 minutes as opposed to 60 for the shocked dogs) was essentially useless. They also saw no signs of distress in the shocked dogs, except that all of them yelped in pain at some point.
I’m paraphrasing here, obviously.
And I’m using quotation marks to draw your attention to the fact that I’m not quite sure that they actually ever used those “food rewards” as reinforcement for correct behaviour in those treatment groups – the training setup was absolutely bananas, if you’ll pardon the pun (that last bit will make sense in a moment).
TL;DR? Here are the main points of this blog post:
- The “food-reward” training was a travesty with a multitude of problems (e.g. dubious conditioning, unwanted behaviour reinforced, no shaping, no assessment of engagement, no calibration of the reward value, adding distractions and distance way too soon, not using a marker, etc etc); no learning occurred
- The food-reward dogs got less training time than the shocked dogs
- The type of training needed to be successful in the tests was not in the protocol for the food-reward dogs
- The “welfare measures” were inadequate and possibly confounded
- Generalized fear learning occurred in the shocked dogs, a potential concern for their long-term wellbeing
- There was conflict of interest: shock-collar trainers training the “food-reward” dogs
- The authors conclude that shock collars may occasionally save lives without considering the risks of shock collars costing lives, which I suspect is on a different order of magnitude
- The problems are serious enough to warrant retraction of the paper
We’ll get to my detailed objections in a minute, but first off: I think the chosen approach, comparing several treatment groups, where essentially the only difference in training set-up is whether dogs receive a shock for doing the wrong behaviour, or a treat for doing the correct behaviour, is flawed.
It’s based on the proud tradition from other scientific fields such as biomedicine, whereby you compare two different treatment options, subjecting one group to treatment A and the other to treatment B, keeping all other variables identical in the two groups. And so, the theory goes, you can be sure that any differences between the groups will be a result of different effects of the two treatments, A or B, and not some other random factor such as the weather.
Typically, a biomedical study involves genetically identical rodents housed under standardized conditions, so that presumably, the only difference between the two study groups is which research treatment option (A or B) they’ve been given.
