The Dog Trainer Civil War: Positive vs. Balanced Training… Can We PLEASE Just Talk About the Dogs?
Hey there!! Thanks for stopping by for another blog post!
Today we’re getting into something that might ruffle a few feathers. 😂
The never-ending civil war between positive reinforcement trainers and balanced dog trainers.
We couldn’t NOT talk about it, if you’ve spent more than five minutes in the dog training world, you’ve probably seen it.
One trainer posts a video using an e-collar.
Someone comments that they’re abusing their dog.
Another trainer posts a video using treats to work through reactivity.
Someone comments that they’re just bribing the dog and avoiding accountability.
And suddenly we’ve got 47 dog trainers arguing in the comments about who’s ruining dogs and who’s doing it the right way.
Meanwhile, the actual dog?
Still needs help.
As a balanced trainer, I obviously have my own philosophies, preferences, and ways of approaching training.
But I also think there’s a much bigger conversation we should be having.
Because somewhere along the way, dog training became less about understanding the individual dog and more about defending the label we put on ourselves.
And personally?
I think that’s a disservice to the dogs we’re supposed to be helping.
Here’s what we’re getting into today:
What positive reinforcement and balanced training actually mean.
Why training philosophies have become so divided.
Why rewards aren’t exclusive to positive reinforcement trainers.
Why accountability doesn’t automatically equal understanding.
Why the individual dog matters more than our egos.
What we can learn from trainers who do things differently.
Why the end goal should ALWAYS be the dog’s well-being.
First… what are we even arguing about?
Let’s clear up some terminology because I think a LOT of the arguments happening online start with people not actually understanding what they’re talking about.
Positive reinforcement means adding something the dog finds rewarding after a behavior, making that behavior more likely to happen again.
Your dog sits.
You give them a treat.
They’re more likely to sit again.
Pretty straightforward!
But here’s where things get confusing.
Positive reinforcement is a learning process, not necessarily an entire training philosophy.
Trainers who describe themselves as positive reinforcement-based or force-free generally focus on rewarding desired behaviors, managing environments, preventing unwanted behaviors, and teaching alternative responses without deliberately using aversive corrections.
Balanced training, on the other hand, typically incorporates reward-based teaching alongside other consequences, which may include leash pressure, the removal of pressure, or corrections.
And even within balanced training, there is a HUGE spectrum of how those things are taught and applied.
Two trainers can both call themselves balanced and have wildly different approaches.
The same goes for trainers who identify as positive reinforcement-based.
A label tells you something about a trainer’s philosophy. It doesn’t tell you everything about their skill, timing, judgment, or relationship with the dog.
Can we stop pretending balanced trainers don’t use rewards?
Because this one drives me a little crazy. 😂
Somewhere along the way, the internet decided that balanced training means walking around correcting dogs all day while positive reinforcement trainers are the only people having fun with their dogs.
WHAT?!
I use food.
I use praise.
I use play.
I use toys.
I use engagement games.
I use luring, shaping, marking, and rewarding behaviors.
I absolutely LOVE watching a dog figure something out and celebrating the heck out of them when they do.
And guess what?
None of that stops being positive reinforcement just because I also identify as a balanced trainer.
I don’t want a dog who only works to avoid a correction.
I want a dog who understands what I’m asking, enjoys working with me, and has a clear picture of what earns reinforcement.
Rewards aren’t something we graduate away from once a dog understands obedience.
They’re a valuable part of building and maintaining behavior.
The treats don’t have to disappear just because boundaries exist.
But accountability doesn’t automatically mean understanding.
Now let’s flip that conversation around.
Because I also think balanced trainers need to be willing to hear this.
Just because you can stop a behavior doesn’t mean you’ve taught the dog something.
A dog stops barking after a correction.
Okay.
But WHY were they barking?
Fear?
Frustration?
Overarousal?
A learned habit?
A desire to create distance?
And more importantly, what did they learn from that interaction?
Did we actually improve their understanding of the situation?
Did we teach an alternative behavior?
Did we address the underlying emotion?
Or did we simply stop the outward expression?
Those are important questions.
A quiet dog isn’t automatically a comfortable dog.
An obedient dog isn’t automatically a confident dog.
And a dog who complies isn’t necessarily a dog who understands.
Corrections are not a substitute for teaching.
If we’re going to hold dogs accountable, we should be equally accountable for making sure they understand what we’re asking, that our expectations are reasonable, and that our methods aren’t creating unnecessary fear or stress.
Positive reinforcement isn’t just throwing cookies at a problem.
While we’re clearing things up…
Can we PLEASE stop acting like reward-based training is just standing around tossing treats at a dog who’s losing their mind?
Because good reward-based training is so much more complicated than that.
There’s timing.
There’s environmental management.
There’s understanding thresholds.
There’s counterconditioning.
There’s desensitization.
There’s shaping.
There’s reinforcement history.
There’s knowing when to increase criteria and when to make things easier.
There’s teaching a dog how to make different choices before they’re completely overwhelmed.
That takes skill.
You can disagree with another trainer’s overall philosophy while still recognizing that they’re doing some pretty freaking impressive work.
I’ve seen reward-based trainers accomplish amazing things with dogs.
And I think refusing to acknowledge that simply because their philosophy differs from mine is ridiculous.
Not every dog standing in front of you is the same dog.
DOGS ARE INDIVIDUALS.
I know. Groundbreaking information. 😂
But seriously.
The dog who’s bouncing off the walls because he’s frustrated and overexcited is not necessarily experiencing the same thing as the dog who’s frozen in a corner because he’s terrified.
The dog who has spent six years rehearsing a behavior isn’t the same as the puppy who’s still figuring out how the world works.
The confident, environmentally driven working dog isn’t the same as the sensitive rescue who’s only been home for two weeks.
So why would we approach every dog with the exact same expectations, timeline, or training plan?
We shouldn’t.
Now, that doesn’t mean every possible method is appropriate for every dog.
Individualizing training doesn’t mean throwing welfare considerations out the window.
It means recognizing that the dog’s emotional state, learning history, physical health, motivation, and ability to cope should influence the decisions we make.
Sometimes we need to slow down.
Sometimes we need to change the environment.
Sometimes we need to build motivation.
Sometimes we need to revisit foundations.
And sometimes the best thing we can do is admit that the approach we’re currently using isn’t working.
That’s not failure.
That’s being a good trainer.
Can we talk about the tools without making them our entire personality?
Prong collars.
E-collars.
Slip leads.
Harnesses.
Flat collars.
Clickers.
Treat pouches.
The dog training internet has managed to turn nearly every piece of equipment into some kind of political statement.
And I think we’ve lost the ability to have productive conversations about them.
Here’s where I stand:
A tool is not a training plan.
Owning an e-collar doesn’t make someone a skilled trainer.
Using a clicker doesn’t automatically mean someone has perfect timing.
And putting a dog in a prong collar doesn’t magically teach them how to walk nicely on leash.
Equipment doesn’t replace understanding behavior.
It doesn’t replace teaching.
It doesn’t replace reading body language.
And it definitely doesn’t replace having a relationship with the dog.
I also think it’s important to acknowledge that tools aren’t all equivalent in their risks.
Aversive equipment and corrections can carry welfare risks, including fear, stress, and unwanted associations, particularly when they’re poorly timed, too intense, or used with a dog who’s already struggling emotionally.
That’s something balanced trainers should be willing to discuss rather than dismiss.
And when reward-based alternatives can effectively accomplish the goal with less risk, that’s worth taking seriously.
The question shouldn’t be, “What tool do you use?”
It should be:
“Why are you using it, what is the dog learning, and how do you know it’s helping?”
We need to stop training for the comment section.
This one might be a little spicy.
But I think social media has made this divide SO much worse.
We see a 30-second clip of a dog.
We don’t know the dog’s history.
We don’t know the behavior plan.
We don’t know what happened five minutes before the video.
We don’t know what happened afterward.
And suddenly everyone has an opinion.
Now, don’t get me wrong.
There are absolutely things worth calling out.
Poor handling, unnecessary force, unsafe practices, and dogs showing clear signs of distress shouldn’t get a free pass simply because someone calls themselves a professional.
But there’s a difference between asking thoughtful questions about what we’re seeing and immediately attacking someone’s character because they use a different training label.
And there’s also a difference between defending your philosophy and refusing to acknowledge legitimate criticism.
If we’re spending more time trying to prove another trainer wrong than we are trying to improve our own skills…
Who exactly is benefiting?
Because I can promise you the dogs aren’t reading our Instagram arguments. 😂
You can disagree with someone AND learn from them.
This is something I wish more trainers embraced.
You do not have to adopt someone’s entire philosophy to recognize that they might be better than you at something.
Maybe another trainer has an incredible understanding of canine body language.
Maybe they’re fantastic at shaping complex behaviors.
Maybe they have a way of building toy engagement that you’ve never considered.
Maybe they’re exceptional at working with fearful dogs.
Maybe they’re better at teaching owners.
LEARN FROM THEM.
Ask questions.
Watch.
Study.
Challenge your own thinking.
You can still have your own boundaries around methods you will and won’t use.
Learning from someone doesn’t mean you have to agree with everything they believe.
It means you’re willing to recognize that you don’t know everything.
And personally, I think that’s one of the most important qualities a dog trainer can have.
The day you decide there’s nothing left for you to learn is the day you stop growing.
The dog should always get the final vote.
I say this because I think it’s incredibly easy to become attached to the idea of how we want a training session to go.
We want the dog to understand.
We want progress.
We want to see results.
We want our chosen approach to work.
But the dog standing in front of us is constantly giving us information.
Through their body language.
Their willingness to engage.
Their recovery after a stressful moment.
Their ability to offer behaviors.
Their interest in reinforcement.
Their behavior outside of formal training sessions.
We need to be paying attention.
If a dog is becoming increasingly fearful, shutting down, avoiding their handler, or struggling to recover, that matters.
If they’re becoming more curious, relaxed, engaged, and capable of navigating their environment, that matters too.
We should evaluate more than whether a command was completed.
We should care about how the dog feels, what they’re learning, and whether their quality of life is actually improving.
Because at the end of the day, the dog doesn’t care what label is printed on your website.
They care about what their experience with you is like.
So… who’s winning the dog trainer civil war?
Honestly?
Nobody, if we’re too busy fighting to listen.
I’m a balanced trainer.
I believe in clear communication, structure, boundaries, accountability, and building a relationship where the dog understands what’s expected of them.
I also believe in food, praise, play, motivation, confidence building, and celebrating the absolute heck out of a dog who’s trying their best.
I don’t think those things have to exist in separate worlds.
But I also don’t believe that simply calling an approach balanced makes every method or correction appropriate.
Training choices deserve scrutiny, and we should be willing to consider evidence about effectiveness, welfare, and risk—even when that evidence challenges something we’ve been doing for years.
We owe our dogs that much.
We can disagree.
We can debate.
We can have different philosophies.
We can advocate strongly for the methods we believe are most humane and effective.
But we should be able to do those things without turning every conversation into a personal attack.
Because behind every training video, every consultation, and every behavior plan is a real dog with real needs.
And an owner who’s trusting us to help them.
Our job isn’t to win an argument on the internet.
Our job is to educate, advocate, continue learning, and make thoughtful decisions for the dogs in our care.
So whether you’re a positive reinforcement trainer, a balanced trainer, or an owner just trying to figure out what the heck all these labels mean…
Let’s spend a little less time defending our teams and a little more time asking better questions.
Is the dog learning?
Is the dog emotionally and physically safe?
Are we improving their quality of life?
Are we giving their owner the tools to succeed?
And most importantly…
Are we willing to change our approach when the dog tells us we need to?
Because THAT is a conversation worth having.
Less ego. More education. Better outcomes for dogs. 🐾🤎
- Emily :)