01/05/2026
Beyond the Debate: Returning to the Human–Dog Relationship
Spend enough time in the dog training world — particularly online — and you’ll notice the same pattern repeat itself.
Different camps.
Different tribes.
Different methodologies.
What begins as discussion often turns into debate, and debate quickly becomes conflict. Facebook threads fill with studies, statistics, screenshots, and citations — each side trying to out-argue the other, trying to land the decisive blow.
It starts to resemble a courtroom more than a community.
Two opposing councils presenting their case.
Each trying to discredit the other.
Each trying to “win”.
And yet, nothing really changes.
No one truly leaves these debates transformed. What tends to happen instead is that each person walks away having reaffirmed what they already believed — backed up by their chosen evidence, supported by their team, and able to beat their chest and declare victory.
But this isn’t progress.
It’s human behaviour.
It’s identity.
It’s belonging.
It’s ego.
And while energy is spent arguing, the dogs — and the people struggling with them — remain untouched by the conversation.
This is where I want to pause and gently redirect the narrative.
Because dog training doesn’t happen in Facebook threads.
It doesn’t happen in academic sparring matches.
And it doesn’t happen in theoretical absolutes.
It happens in real homes.
With real people.
With real dogs.
Science matters. Deeply.
It gives us the blueprint.
It shows us best practice.
It helps us understand learning, reinforcement schedules, timing, consistency, criteria, and placement of reinforcement.
Science gives us the how.
But science is not a battering ram.
And it’s not a moral weapon.
Used without humanity, science becomes something people hide behind rather than something they apply with care.
When a client comes to us, they don’t arrive as a case study.
They arrive as a person — often overwhelmed, frustrated, anxious, or at the end of their tether. They bring with them their household dynamics, their routines (or lack of them), their financial reality, their emotional capacity, and their relationship with the dog in front of them.
Sometimes they’re ambitious and driven.
Sometimes they’re exhausted and scared.
Sometimes they just want things to stop feeling so hard.
The science book doesn’t tell us how to meet that person.
It doesn’t tell us how to listen when someone feels like they’ve failed their dog.
It doesn’t guide us in navigating tension between family members.
It doesn’t tell us when management needs to come before modification, or when support needs to come before skill-building.
And the same applies to the dog.
The dog in front of us is not an abstract concept.
They are a living, breathing individual with history, temperament, emotional responses, and context.
So yes — science informs what we do.
But presence, connection, and relationship determine how we do it.
That is how I train my dogs.
That is how I work with clients.
My decisions are guided by science, but grounded in relationship.
I don’t ask, “Which camp does this fall into?”
I ask, “What does this dog need right now?”
“What does this person need right now?”
“What is realistic, sustainable, and humane in this situation?”
The Reality Check
Debate lives in theory.
It lives in controlled arguments where no one truly loses and no one truly changes. Each side simply reinforces its own beliefs, supported by data that fits its lens.
But reality is messy.
Reality requires listening.
Reality requires humility.
Reality requires connection.
And in reality, the goal isn’t to win — it’s to help.
As trainers, teachers, educators, and behaviourists, our responsibility isn’t to dominate conversations or dismantle opposing arguments. It’s to improve lives.
So the question becomes simple:
Is our energy best spent arguing online?
Or connecting, communicating, and supporting the dogs and people who actually need us?
When we bring the focus back to relationship — guided by science, informed by experience, and grounded in empathy — the noise fades.
And the work begins.
