Dominance Doesn't Work

enlightened horsemanship through touch has posted another great discussion on dominance-oriented training. while reading the post i recalled several horses i have met over the years who were trained this way and rebelled. it didn’t work for them, and this post has effectively put into words just why this approach didn’t work. it also got me thinking about what did work, and a possible explanation of why it worked when the standard approach didn’t. in a nutshell, i think it comes down to this:

"these dominant-submissive relationships are constantly renegotiated in the wild. they are not static. jostling for rank never ends.. in contrast, a calm, secure state of loving cooperation can be maintained indefinitely, so long as the human does nothing to destroy it."

i have seen the effects of this first hand. this approach leaves the horse only two routes forward; the first is as above, to continue jostling for rank, and the other is to create such an atmosphere of perpetual terror that the horse gives up trying (i.e., the literal meaning of breaking.)

few of us have subscribed to the latter, though many trainers, often unwittingly, have opted for the former. but there is another way that removes the question of rank almost entirely from the equation. it's nice to know there is scientific thinking to back the same conclusion it seems we all arrived at on our own in one way or another.

this post, and particularly the bit about dominance hierarchies being about resources (i.e., food, etc.) made me think of an odd comment someone once made to me about my barn. she remarked how none of my horses threatened me for food and were perfectly relaxed while being fed. i had never thought about it, but when i did, i realized they never 'demand' their feed or treats (though they are terrible beggars ;-) nor do they retreat when i go to feed them; they neither pin their ears nor run to the back of the stall when i approach them while eating, and i can work around them, groom them, walk behind them, etc. as they eat, in their stalls or out in the field, without any fear for my safety.

that this seemed odd to other horse people seemed odd to me. but i recall barns where this was not the case, and i recall one horse in particular that was considered a real menace, especially where his stall and food were concerned.

this horse was an 18hh black gelding who had a reputation for being 'dangerous' because he had killed a groom. i later learned that it had been an accident - when the horse was young he was being loaded on a trailer, he turned his big head to look at something in the distance, knocked the groom off balance, who then fell off the ramp and hit his head on the pavement. it was an unfortunate accident, but since that day the horse was treated as a monster, and so a monster he became.

attempts to deal with him were a mix of aggressive dominance and fear. as a consequence, the horse learned to keep his abusers at a distance with threatening looks, bites, kicks and other negative behavior. and in turn his handlers escalated their attempts at dominance through fear to control him.

when i began working at this barn, i was given all kinds of warnings about this horse and told not to go into his stall with him inside, not to take him from the stall without a stud chain and a whip in hand, and to wave my arms or chase him to the back of his stall with a whip in order to put his feed in his bucket or i’d be mauled.

needless to say, i wasn't about to do any of that. i was determined to see if i could work with him fairly. so i started by simply standing in front of his stall, just out of his reach, and not doing anything. he would threaten and lunge at me, but i didn't react. i just stood there quietly, non-threateningly. when he got tired of threatening me without getting a reaction and went back inside, i'd walk away. soon he gave up the threats and became curious. his ears would come forward. then he'd stretch his nose toward me. again, i just let him.

next came feedings, and i'd do the same. whenever his ears came forward, i'd walk up and put in his grain. he never once threatened or tried to lunge at me. after a just two days of little things like this, he started to let me stroke his face and neck, ate treats gently out of my hand, and would come to the front of his stall with his ears up when he saw me. i could lead him with just a halter and lead snapped to the bottom ring, and, much to the horror of everyone around, i could go into his stall with him loose inside to groom him, muck out, etc, without trouble.

people thought it was magic. it wasn't. i'm no ‘horse whisperer’ or some kind of natural horsemanship guru, and i don't have some scientific-sounding method that requires a manual, videos, props and clinics. i just approached the horse with compassion and treated him with respect. it hardly makes me an expert. but it seemed to work for us.

i met another horse just like him in scotland. this horse was kept in an isolation stall with warning signs plastered all over the front of it, and all the same rules applied when working around him – he was constantly tied, smacked, chained or threatened and no one trusted him enough to venture near his stall unless they had to. and again the same approach worked with him where others had failed. i remember being in his stall mucking out while he was loose and happily eating his hay when one of the staff ran and got the manager and asked right in front of me, ‘is she ok to be in there?’ the manager just shrugged and walked away. i wasn’t their favorite employee, probably because i successfully challenged so many of their theories and practices...

i was happy to work with these horses because they deserved to be cared for properly even if no one else thought they were worth the trouble. i had hoped the horses would come around and other people would see they were not the monsters they previously thought. the problem was, they only behaved well with me. these horses were still a danger to everyone else, because they hadn't modified their own behavior around the horses. but the horses certainly seemed to know the difference and treated the humans around them each accordingly.

after reading this post, i’m wondering if the issue was that these horses found themselves in a constant state of competition for rank with these aggressive handlers. maybe they thought by bullying humans and making them submissive, they would win and the abuse would stop. or maybe they'd simply had enough rough treatment and were trying to protect themselves by staking out a personal domain (stall/paddock) and defending their resources (food.) either way, it was clear that they responded to the alternative approach, which was simply to not make it about who's boss, not give them a reason to fear or compete with me, and reward them with kindness any time they gave up threatening. and it turned out they could both be very sweet and kind horses when given half a chance.

my own horses feel no such competition because they've lived long enough in an environment without dominance and aggression that they trust me (most of the time - they're still pretty suspicious when i have a syringe in my hand ;-) not a single one of my horses - including rescues, abuse cases and 'un-trainable' beasts has ever tried to bite, kick or otherwise dominate me (unless you count trying to grab the occasional mouthful of grass while being led or searching my pockets for treats - which, contrary to the average nh guru, i consider pretty innocent.) sure they compete with each other and have their own hierarchy in the herd; our “alpha” horse, mellon, has been dominant in every herd he’s been a member of since he was 4 years old, including with stallions. he is the most aggressive and unrelenting horse i have ever seen, and the rest of the herd lives in a state of respectful wariness of him (though, interestingly, after he disciplines a herd member he also makes a point of grooming all the herd members in turn, i think as a way to bond with them and make up after he has had to be tough.)

the remarkable thing is that he is completely gentle, sweet and trusting with his humans. when we had water troughs, i always knew when one was getting low because mellon would stand guard over it all day and not let anyone else drink until it was replenished, so his instinct for defending resources is perfectly intact, and yet his ears are up when i come in with his grain, and i can go into his stall while he happily munches and treat a wound or pick a foot without him even raising an eyebrow. he definitely demands a certain respect, but he has never once challenged me (our early riding was a different story because he had a history of abuse and learned to be defensive about anyone sitting on his back, but that’s another story...) and is one of the easier horses to work around. his manners are impeccable and my 4 year old niece pets him and feeds him carrots, which he takes ever-so-gently from her hand.

according to dominance theory, he should be the most difficult horse to handle and train, and i have no doubt that he could easily become the most violent and dangerous horse if mishandled. yet i trust him implicitly, and i know he trusts me. how can that be?

Your Thoughts on an Interesting Post...?

i'd like to recommend the following blog post:

Do You Demand Your Horse’s Complete Attention?

I came across this great post over at Enlightened Horsemanship Through Touch, a blog I happen to love! This is a subject that is near and dear to me and my personal training style, but it was never something I thought about in any formal way, so it was really cool to have someone put it all out there in words where I could wrap my brain around it a bit. The result was a comment too long to post that I thought I’d post here in hopes that some of the readers here might visit the original post and share some of their thoughts on the subject too. Anyway, for what it’s worth, here’s my two cents:

This is a post I instinctively agree with but have never put into coherent thoughts, so I’m grateful someone has so succinctly put it into words for me! This gets right to the heart of much that I dislike about natural horsemanship and all its talk about “being the alpha” and “respect.” There is such a fine - but critical - line, especially with a prey animal, between “respect” and fear, and yet some people, inexplicably, seem to think they are one and the same. I believe a horse is only capable of giving its full focus, as described in the post, to something it fears on some level. The sense I get from the horses whose owners demand complete focus is of a deer in the headlights - of an animal so absorbed by his own hyper-alertness that his ability to function normally is impaired. This is hardly where I want my horses to be, above all during training – I want quite the opposite! And yet I see this with so many NH and dressage horses in particular who become mere machines, acting out their programming in a state of constant, vigilant caution rather than interacting with their human partners in a state of composed trust.

Without ever really thinking about the connection, one of the things I try to do when I feel myself getting tense in the saddle or becoming too focused on particulars is overcome that kind of focus in myself. Our level of focus is way too intense for the horse to understand, much less respond to positively. Dressage in particular often brings this kind of focus out in people, who start to obsess over outward appearances, mechanical perfection and formulaic manipulation of the horse, piece by piece (all the while focused on gaining and maintaining the unfortunately termed “submission”) rather than feeling a way forward with the horse in a way that relates to and takes in the entire horse, mind and body.

Because I study horsemanship and think so much about the mechanics and philosophy of riding, I have a tendency to want to think too hard while training. I can get hung up in details pretty easily. But it has occurred to me how different I feel and ride when speeding around a jumper course or galloping in the field, when there is little time to obsess over details; all of that is let go and I’m just riding in the moment, unconsciously absorbing all the information my horse is sending me and responding instinctively. And I realize that's where I want to be as a rider. And that’s where my horses are at their absolute best. This is probably because I’m not constantly interrupting them with a thousand nagging demands and disrupting their amazing ability to take in the entire environment, handle their own balance and movement, receive subtle input from a rider, and probably a million other things, all at once. Distracting them from all that with an obsessive need for single-minded focus on ME becomes absurd. And I can’t help but think the need for that kind of control over another being is unhealthy, to say the least. It goes along with the view that horses need to be broken rather than trained. While NH gurus vocally condemn and renounce the abusive ways of the past that “broke” horses, all their talk of “being the alpha” and “respect” at all cost seems like a rebranded version of breaking to me.

I realized in reading this post that my riding actually improves when I make the effort to avoid focus. When I feel myself getting into that hyper-focused mindset, I try to soften my awareness to take in everything (which, it seems, mirrors that of the horse) to relax and clear my mind of... well, everything, so that I can absorb everything without concentrating on anything in particular. Riding isn’t about seeing the forest OR the trees, but being aware of both, individually and part of a unified whole. To do this one needs all their faculties, including empathy.... I see so many riders focused, for example, on getting and ideal head position that it's as if all that exists of the horse is the head. They forget to feel whether the back is loose and swinging or coming up under the saddle, whether the hind legs are engaging, whether the gait has a pure rhythm, if the jaw and poll are soft and mobile, if the horse is receptive or resistant, relaxed or tense, etc. – all things that can all be felt easily, but only when one’s concentration is not directly on any of them! It's easy to lose track of the whole picture when we have such a narrow focus. That's just as true in riding as it is in life.

I don’t know if anyone else has experienced this but, whenever I’m riding relaxed on a loose rein and my horse spooks, somehow I just react instinctively and manage to not only stay on the horse with balanced ease, but actually calm him in the process. On the other hand, when I’m waiting for a spook, getting my legs tight, my seat secure, my reins ready, etc., that’s when I have the hardest time staying on and I end up making my horse even more tense. For me, riding with that kind of focus and readiness is always counterproductive. Which I suppose is why riding is a kind of meditation for me. To do it well, I have to let go of all of that intellectual focus on the surface and just be with the horse. In that state, I can feel, almost unconsciously, everything the horse is doing without having to process it intellectually, formulate a response and then react. I’m just there. I trust that all of that knowledge is in there somewhere, unconsciously influencing my actions and awareness, and over years of practice I have developed the muscle memory to carry it out. The moment I start to focus too much, it all falls apart. In a way it comes down to trusting; even if I can’t yet fully trust my horse, I try to trust myself enough to let go – to accept that I can’t control everything and to be alright with letting my horse just be a horse. And maybe in the end the way to gaining the horse’s respect without fear is to be without fear. After all, how can I ask the horse to trust and respect me if I don’t yet trust myself?

© J.M. Elliott and Glenshee Equestrian Centre, 2008-2011. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to J.M. Elliott and Glenshee Equestrian Centre with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.