The Allure of Punishment

Michael Baugh CDBC

I’ll start with a bold statement of my opinion. It is normal for us humans to feel compelled to punish our dogs when they do something we don’t like. Normal. Punishment, by definition, makes the behavior stop, even if only for a short while. When our dog’s annoying or upsetting behavior stops, that reinforces our behavior. “Effective punishment reinforces the punisher, who is therefore more likely to punish again in the future, even when antecedent arrangements and positive reinforcement would be equally, or more, effective.” (Friedman, 2010).

We punish, or attempt to punish, all the time. And we aim our vitriol all over the place, not just at our dogs. A guy tries to cut us off in traffic, and we honk, or we flip him off, or both. If he stops, that’s reinforcing. Our dog barks; we yell; he stops. Our behavior is reinforced. Dog pulls; yank the leash; he slows. You see where this is going.

We get hooked on punishment’s reinforcement. Sometimes, we can’t even think about how to influence behavior any other way. And as Dr. Susan Friedman notes, punishment doesn’t help us teach our dog what we want him to do. Stop barking. Stop pulling. Okay, but now what? What do we want the dog to do?

Add to that, our actions may only punish the dog’s misbehavior at the moment or in a certain context. The effect is fleeting. The dog may stop pulling for a moment or two and then resume (same with barking or other doggy crimes). That often leads to chronic yelling, leash-yanking, or worse. Our attempts to punish increase in frequency and intensity, a true testament that they are not having any lasting effect.

And there are other problems, especially with how fear and pain in the name of training can affect our dogs. Studies dating back decades point to the emotional damage fear and pain have on the dog being punished. The data is clear not only as it relates to dogs but also to other species, including humans.

Using physical violence as a means of training correlates with anxiety-related behavior in dogs (Hiby et al., 2004). Specifically, there is a relationship between physical punishment and aggression in dogs (Hsu and Sun, 2010). Many times, using confrontational training techniques can elicit an immediate aggressive response from the dog, putting the human in danger (Herron, Shofer, Riesner, 2009).

So what are we, the punishment addicts, to do? Admit to the problem? Make amends? Begin behaving differently? I’m not being cheeky. The answer to all is, “yes.”

The science of behavior change is unambiguous. It points us clearly toward positive reinforcement training. Positive reinforcement is the communication tool we are looking for to teach our dogs what we want them to do. There are no unanswered questions. Instead of barking, come here, lie down, and relax. Instead of pulling, walk here and keep an eye on me. And the side effects? They are nothing short of delightful—joy, enthusiasm, and an eagerness in our dogs for learning.

It’s up to us. We can learn. We can get hooked on today’s training methods and leave yesterday’s in the dust. We can take on the burden, a light one at that, of learning some new skills. We can take the burden off our dogs. The allure of positive reinforcement training: seeing our dogs behave better, thrive, and succeed. That, too, can be very reinforcing.

Michael is a dog trainer and behavior consultant. He specializes in aggressive dog training in Sedona, AZ

Correcting Unwanted Behavior with Positive Reinforcement

Michael Baugh CDBC

It seems like a contradiction. How do we eliminate our dog’s misbehavior with positive reinforcement?

The first step is to focus on what you want your dog to do rather than on what you don’t want him to do. This approach works with all misbehavior, but let’s look at one example in particular: the dog who menaces visitors with barking and growling. We know the problem, but let’s not focus on it. Instead, let’s ask ourselves what we’d like to see the dog do when visitors come over instead of barking and growling. Quietly lying in his crate might be an excellent alternative. Great. Let’s use positive reinforcement training to teach the dog to go lie in his crate when guests arrive. We’ve replaced the misbehavior with something better.

Old-fashioned trainers will balk at this idea. Why? Dr. Susan Friedman, professor of psychology at Utah State University, says it’s simply “the perennial gap between research and practice.” Trainers, even some on TV, focus heavily on the dog’s misbehavior. They’re constrained by forceful practices aimed at suppressing what they don’t want the dog to do. Behavior scientists have known for decades that punishment has limitations and side effects. Dogs subjected to these methods often withdraw from social interaction, have suppressed responses to training cues, escalate their aggressive responses, or develop generalized fear (Friedman, 2001).

But what about safety? If we don’t focus on the aggression problem, aren’t we putting people at risk of being bitten? Foregoing archaic methods does not mean we are being gratuitous or precarious in our training. Instead, at every step, we block our dog’s access to repeating the unwanted behavior. In the example at hand, we avoid surprise visitors while we build up the behavior of lying in the crate. As needed, we’d use a leash, baby gate, or other barrier to protect visitors while we refine the fluency of the crate-lying behavior. As we progress, we add other behaviors related to teaching our dog calm confidence when visitors are present. We’re safe and we’re smart.

And there’s a bonus with all this. Just as harsh training has its deleterious side effects (sometimes called “fall out”), positive reinforcement training has its emotional benefits. Dogs trained with praise, smiles, and well-timed food treats are more engaged socially, respond with vigor to training, and respond more reliably with reduced aggression. This is where research and training practices merge.

As always, behavior change in our dogs starts with human behavior change. Focus on behavior solutions rather than getting mired in behavior problems. When we take responsibility for our dogs’ learning, we take on an advocacy role for them aw well. We step out from under the burden of having to be a master, and step up to the experience of being a companion and a teacher.

Michael Baugh CDBC helps families with aggressive dogs in Sedona, Arizona

The Facts About Punishment, Susan Friedman PhD 2001

Functional Assessment: Hypothesizing Predictors and Purposes of Problem Behavior to Improve Behavior-Change Plans, Susan Friedman PhD 2009

Better Than a Stuffed Dog

Michael Baugh CDBC CPDT-KSA

“What you want is a stuffed dog.”

It’s cynical dog trainer humor. When friends, relatives, and even some clients list the qualities they want in their dog we fire off that zinger. They want a dog who doesn’t pee in the house, doesn’t bark, doesn’t jump on people, doesn’t pull on leash, and doesn’t chase the children. Stuffed dog. They want a dog who doesn’t “have a mind of his own,” isn’t dominant, and won’t cause any trouble. Stuffed dog. They want him to be, but they seemingly want him to do nothing. Stuffed dog.

I think we sometimes forget why we love dogs so much, and it’s a bit ironic. While we’re tripping over all the things we want dogs to not do, we forget what it is about them that we like so much. Behavior. Their actions. What dogs do. The way they run, the looks they give, the tricks they learn, that’s what makes us smile, pulls us in, and draws us out of ourselves.

So much better than a stuffed dog, real dogs move and breathe and make noise. They use their eyes and faces and bodies, so that we look and move and talk in turn. We call it communication. Joy. Love. Dogs come toward us, walk the path with us, pick up and bring things to us, play with us, tug at a toy and our hearts. It is in their doing that we discover their being. Animated. Warm. Living. Just like us but also not at all.

And yes, they pee and bark and jump and tug at their leashes. They chase things and sometimes cause trouble. They have minds of their own. Yes. It’s that mind, and ours, interacting, working together. Our actions, kind and informative, replying to theirs. We help our dogs choose differently, discover new behavior. And their behavior helps us act differently, think more clearly. We call that communication too. Teaching. Learning. What each is doing informs what the other does. Feedback. Who’s training whom, and who cares?

And at the end of the day who your dog is is all his doing. He burrows under the blanket. He curls and presses his back to your chest. He slows his breaths and snores. He twitches and barks a muffled sound against some dream we cannot see. He is an amazing being, so different from us but so connected to us.

So alive. So warm and real. So much better than a stuffed dog. And, exactly what you want.