07/13/2025
🟢 Between Substance and Show ✨
What We Lose When We Only Look – But No Longer See
An Exploration of How Breeds Change – and Why Integrity Sometimes Matters More Than Hair
by A Sensitive Kind
Two texts. Two perspectives. And yet, one essential question: what happens to a breed when the standard begins to shift – and no one notices? 🐾
British judge, breeder, and author Andrew H. Brace has published two essays that have left a lasting impression on me as a breeder: The Reason Why Breeds Change (July 2024) and Some Reflections on the 'Modern' Tibetan Terrier (2024). Not because they are loud. Not because they present bold or provocative theses. But because they quietly speak to what is so often forgotten in the noise of trends and titles: responsibility. Balance. Memory.
Perhaps it is the stillness of his observations that makes them so powerful. Perhaps it is the way they reflect what many of us feel – even if we have not yet put it into words. Or perhaps it is because they hold a mirror to something that is slowly slipping away, unnoticed by many.
Brace begins with a scenario familiar to all breeders and judges: a puppy that catches the eye. It might have an elegant neck, a flashier movement, a softer expression – something that stands out. Something exaggerated.
“Occasionally there will be a puppy who has something about it that always catches the eye,” he writes, “and invariably that ‘something’ tends to be an exaggeration of some kind or another.”
The moment a dog wins not despite that exaggeration but because of it, a shift begins. Others follow. The eye becomes accustomed. What once was an exception becomes the rule. And over time, the breed begins to look different.
In his reflections on the Tibetan Terrier, Brace becomes specific. He names what has changed:
Feet that are too flat and long. Hindquarters with excessive angulation. Movement that looks flashy but lacks balance. Grooming that masks the true coat. Weakened jaws that alter the expression. And in all this – a type that moves further and further from its origin.
“Once you get extremes into the TT, you lose the essential look of moderation and perfect balance. That is not the dog described in the breed standard.”
As someone who has lived and worked with Tibetan Terriers, I feel the truth in those words. The breed was never made to impress in a ring. It was made to endure. To serve. To move.
Its beauty lies not in spectacle, but in substance. When we turn it into a showpiece, when we sculpt it into a caricature of what it once was – we lose more than type. We lose its soul.
And yet – not all change is loss. Breeds are not static. They are living, breathing continuums. They evolve. And rightly so. The question is not whether a breed may change – but why it does, and in what direction.
Change rooted in knowledge, function, and respect for the breed’s purpose is progress. Change born of fashion, convenience, or applause is erosion.
Brace sees the risk clearly: “In due course breeders see this dog and all the winning it is doing, and they think that they had better start breeding something like it... and within a matter of years the rather deviant type has got a foothold in the breed.”
The danger is not in the exception. The danger is in mistaking the exception for the new ideal.
Who holds the line? Judges, breeders, clubs – and everyone who cares about dogs. We all shape the narrative. We all decide what matters. We all choose what we reward.
“Many judges... assume that the five must be right as they form the majority, and the sixth dog gets left out of the awards.”
This sentence haunts me. Because it shows how easily correctness becomes invisibility.
In my own reflection, Old Values, I tried to give voice to something I feel deeply: breeding is not a project. It is a path. And that path does not begin with a litter – and certainly not with a like.
“Breeding didn’t happen on social media. It happened in the offspring. In commitment. In the quiet work of daily reflection.”
Old values are not outdated. They are timeless. Because they are rooted in something deeper than taste: integrity.
So what remains? Perhaps it is the question itself. The willingness to pause. To look again. To ask not just what pleases the eye, but what honors the breed.
Brace does not issue commandments. He invites us to notice. To remember. To think.
Let us not confuse visibility with value. Let us not mistake elegance for essence. Let us not lose the weight of a breed’s heritage in the pursuit of momentary perfection.
Breeding does not begin with a plan. It begins with a posture. A promise.
A promise to choose depth over drama. Purpose over polish. Truth over trend.
A promise to carry a breed forward – without leaving its soul behind.
📖 Inspired by:
Andrew H. Brace, The Reason Why Breeds Change (July 2024)
Andrew H. Brace, Some Reflections on the 'Modern' Tibetan Terrier (2024)
✍️ Interpretation and Experience: A Sensitive Kind
