13/03/2025
WHEN TRAINING *DOESN'T* DO WHAT IT SAYS ON THE TIN
Do you remember the old Ronseal advert for fence paint?
"It does exactly what it says on the tin?"
Ahhh the good old days of marketing, when you could trust that what you were sold would do the job.
You didn't have to read the small print to find 97 side effects or times it wouldn't do exactly what it said on the tin.
Nowhere were there tiny labels that said: 'Do not use when drunk. Not to be used as a way to stop permanent wood rot. Won't work on slightly damp fences. Unlikely to work on mouldy fences. Could cause really poor neighbourly relations if you use an awful colour and get some on their Ford Fiesta by accident. Very hard to get off if you spill it on your flagstones. A bit drippy. Only use if you're wearing clothes you don't like. Don't use around fresh washing on a windy day. Only use it for the purpose it is intended. Don't use in enclosed environments unless you want to get high as a kite. Won't dry in -5°C weather. Will dry too rapidly at 30°C temperatures. Will stain your hands. Don't use as a temporary tanning lotion. Will go out of date eventually. Don't throw it into rivers or other water sources. May dye your grass brown. Keep out of reach of children. The pot is a bu**er to re-seal when you have opened it. You'll need at least three knives and a flathead screwdriver to get the stuff open.'
In other words, even when we lived in the golden era of marketing, things often did NOT do what they said on the tin. And sometimes, they did MORE than you thought they might do. In those days, more fool you. You were expected to have common sense and few companies cared if other stuff happened.
While it may irritate you beyond belief to be told that paint is not an appropriate nourishment for children and that it won't set below this or that temperature, it's actually useful information.
Sure, EVERYTHING seems to come with instruction booklets that are eleventy billion pages long these days, in multiple languages, but this journey has been an arduous one to improving standards.
Except in dog training, it seems.
I was struck last week by the dirty, empty promises of one trainer in the area.
WILL FIX YOUR REACTIVE DOG IN A WEEKEND!
That kind of thing.
Same kind of empty, dirty promise as telling me that eating this or that toadstool will cure my headaches.
I mean, it might very well do that, but the side effects make it prohibitively costly.
So many false promises are made by modern dog trainers who are fixed on marketing the living sh*t out of their fake products that you wonder how they can possibly get away with it. The side effects would make it prohibitively costly, but they're selling it anyway.
I'm also seeing some dog trainers ditching the rewards-based approaches and switching to aversive methods using prong collars or shock collars. They're happy, it seems, to take the hit to their social media figures, because ultimately, they have one goal.
It's not to make a living.
I make a living from dog training. It was enough (thank you!) to donate a bunch to charity last year and support shelters and associations. It was enough (thank you!) to offer free places or assisted places to charities on courses I run, to offer over 600 hours of free consultations to shelters, charities and associations.
It was enough not to worry about Lidy's vet bills. To have enough to put a little away for a rainy day.
When people turn to marketing and selling so-called quick fixes and magic potions, it is not to make a living. When they sign up with marketing agencies, it's not to make a living.
It's because they've found that dog training isn't turning them the kind of profit they hope to make. This is especially true if they came into the profession without much by way of education or experience whatsoever.
I see this spin out in several ways.
The first is slick packaging and shiny marketing, lots of paid adverts and a cult-like membership programme.
The second is opening 'facilities' - from training grounds to dog fields to kennels. That can include big "rehab" facilities.
The third is in breeding dogs themselves in large warehouse-style facilities.
The fourth is in franchising and selling the right to use their name or their marketing approaches or their harmful implements in a pyramid scheme designed to take advantage of those who are struggling to make a living in the training industry as well as to take desperate dog guardians for a ride.
My lightbulb last week was that it's not about the dogs.
They don't like dogs. Dogs are just a commodity to be exploited. They're a means to make a living. This is especially true when they come to buy a dog themselves and they often find they can't train or even live with the dog they own. They get Malinois, Dobies, working cockers, German Shepherds, and because they bought the dog as a symbol of their brand, not because they had any genuine love of the dogs, it's easy to switch to barbaric training methods. They bought the sports car... don't have the skills to drive it... blame the car for the crashes.
But they have a public image to maintain. How do they keep status and admit failure?
They blame their training skills and technologies. That's easy, especially if they didn't have a solid foundation in the first place and they don't really care enough about dogs to invest in the lifelong journey the rest of us are enjoying.
So they switch their tools.
But they don't have any better understanding of those tools either.
If they did, they wouldn't use them.
If they loved dogs and not money, they *couldn't* use them.
Harming animals is completely incompatible with loving them.
The most frustrating thing about it is that they profess to know that shock collars, that prong collars, they do exactly what it says on the metaphorical tin.
What they aren't doing is telling their clients all the fallout, all the hazards, the "when not to use", the "won't work in this condition".
They didn't do it with rewards-based training either.
Or management.
This seems largely because they have no idea about why things fail and how to work around that.
This week, I've told clients to hang-fire on training with food. I've told them to do some more observation before we make any changes. I've told them, I hope, that this or that technique is the one we'll use, but it comes with this or that risk...
.. We'll be using a platform for care work, but it needs to be solid, non-slip and secure so the dog doesn't get scared. It needs to be X inches high and this much bigger than the dog and we may use a food lure but it'd be better to shape it because luring doesn't always get great behaviour unless we fade the lure quickly and the dog is clear on what gets the reward.
I know full well that things do not do exactly what they say on the tin. And that's with the stuff with which I am intimately familiar.
It feels a bit like the Wild West right now in terms of what promises some "trainers" will use to sell their services. And although I care very much about the fallout for dogs, I think more it's about bad faith advertising. It's a trading standards issue.
If Ronseal sold me paint in a tin as a body bronzer, that'd be bad faith advertising.
Sure, it'd give me a glow, but at what cost?
And what about the side effects?
Sure, we can sit back at laugh at people who fall for such confidence tricksters, snake oil salesfolk and Barnum and Bailey circus acts.
"There's one born every minute!" we might scoff.
It feels about time to call out bad practice, bad faith marketing and the complete indifference to risk. It's a tired old game, marketing. It's getting harder and harder for them to make the profit they so desperately desire because they don't have the skills to make a living in any other way.
It's time to call out those who promise the moon on a stick for false and reckless advertising.
It's time to write the smallprint out in large letters.
It's not just like we end up with egg on our faces, ashamed we were caught out by a fraud and promising to be more careful next time.
There are costs. Those costs are to our dogs and our relationships with them.
We deserve to know the costs and the truth.
After all, the damage is much more consequential than simply ending up with a stained patio just because a product did a lot more damage than what it suggested on the side of the tin.