07/07/2025
A Reality Check.
There’s this idea floating around in the dog world that unless you’ve got a degree, endless certificates, or fancy letters after your name, your opinion isn’t worth much.
Now, don’t get me wrong — I’ve got a lot of time and respect for proper education, but let’s not kid ourselves here…
A practitioner academic — and yes, that’s an actual recognised and respected term — is someone who’s got both theoretical knowledge (not formally learnt), and their feet firmly planted in the real world. They’ve not just got the theory at a suitable level— they’ve lived it, worked the front lines, dealt with the dogs, the mess, the stress, the families, the lot. Their knowledge comes from rolling their sleeves up and getting stuck in, not just sitting behind a desk or reading to clients from a book.
Meanwhile, in the UK, here’s your reality check:
There’s no such thing as a legally protected, officially qualified dog trainer.
Loads of people like to wave certificates around from whichever organisation sold them the course, but it doesn’t mean what they want you to think it means.
An argument from authority, is usually a lost one.
Yet oddly, those same people will often dismiss others who’ve been doing this successfully for years, just because they don’t have the same bit of paper.
And let’s not forget, at the other end of the scale, there are university-educated behaviourists who’ve done their time in a lecture hall but have barely handled a dog in their life. You’ll often find those types are far more comfortable reaching for the textbook than a lead or a muzzle.
Let’s be honest — they’ve never had an angry Bullmastiff pinging on the end of a lead, desperate to cause serious harm to anything that crosses its path, basically ready to create Armageddon on the local playing field.
That’s the difference between reading about dogs — and actually working with dogs. Not offering advice for serious issues over a zoom call.
If you’re getting an extension built on your house, who do you trust?
The fresh-faced structural engineering graduate who’s never so much as picked up a spirit level?
Or the bricklayer who’s been building houses for 40 years — yeah, he might be rough round the edges, probably swears a lot, and has got a roll-up glued to his bottom lip… He may well have a Millwall tattoo on his leg and enjoy a couple of pints of Stella most evenings — but let’s be honest, he’ll do a far better job than the boy who’s never laid a single brick.
Same goes for dog training.
Practical, hands-on experience is gold dust — especially when it’s mixed with a bit of common sense, proper results, and an understanding of the theory behind it all.
That’s not to say people with academic backgrounds should be ignored — absolutely not. Their input matters.
But putting someone on a pedestal purely because of their qualifications, and acting like they’re the only oracle worth listening to? That’s not just narrow-minded — it can be dangerous. Because while everyone’s arguing, dogs and owners are still struggling.
And let’s not pretend studies and research are always the holy grail either. Especially in the dog world, research is often designed to back up the agenda of whoever’s paying for it.
Even researchers have stated — “Dog training is an art, not a science.”
Science can be cherry-picked to back any side of an argument. But the best evidence? That’s real life.
It’s seeing dogs — time and time again — being helped by people who’ve stepped in after others have failed.
And often, that includes stepping in after the force-free ideology has promised the world, wrapped it all up in kindness and moral superiority… and delivered very little.
An uncomfortable truth, will always serve you better than a comforting lie.
Where do we see force-free ideology fall apart most?
Reactivity, aggression cases, and especially anything involving predatory driven chase behaviours.
And I’ll say this as clearly as I can — I know alot of "purely positive" trainers who are good people, and good dog trainers- but they stay in their lane.
We are not discussing these people, but those ideologues at the extreme end of the spectrum.
To this day, I am yet to see a dog that’s been successfully stopped from displaying prey chase behaviours by using purely force-free methods.
Lets caveat that, with stopped without outside interference, without adding restraint , boundaries, consequences — it doesn’t happen.
The idea that it can is wishful thinking dressed up as training, a modified behaviour is one that is displayed reliably and repeatedly at the volition of the dog, with extremely little to no guidance.
An alternative behaviour, as we hear so often, is great!........but it doesn’t teach them NOT to do the other. That is myth, fantasy, and a critical part of the learning circle being removed.
Let’s also be honest about this — if you properly dissect learning theory, particularly operant conditioning, it’s impossible to raise or train a dog for its whole life without some form of punishment creeping in.
That doesn’t mean cruelty, it doesn’t mean being harsh for the sake of it — but it does mean facing facts. Life itself delivers consequences. Boundaries, frustration, being told ‘no’ — it’s sometimes part of learning.
Are there trainers out there who are way too harsh? 100%, and they need calling out too.
You’ll often find those types have limited theory and understanding, and seem to rely entirely on the other extreme end of the stick — no flexibility, no tailoring the approach to the dog, just the same blunt method for every situation.
That’s just as unethical, & unhelpful as the rigid force-free camp.
The extremes at both ends of this industry? Equally damaging, equally toxic. They both need challenging.
The truth? - It’s found somewhere in the middle.
It’s balancing lived experience with an understanding of theory, questioning everything, and focusing on real outcomes — not who’s got the shiniest certificate, or who can shout “I’m qualified” the loudest on social media.
In the end, true kindness is positive outcomes. Real progress. Happier dogs. Less stressed owners. That’s what matters.
