11/10/2026
A question came up in a conversation about politics that I’ve been thinking about in the barn. What standard of evidence and accountability should we expect from someone entrusted with power, regardless of whose side they’re on?
The part I keep coming back to is how much easier it is to ask hard questions of someone we already disagree with. When we like what a person is accomplishing, or when we’ve learned a great deal from them, we can be awfully generous about how they got there.
I want to make the world a little better where I have some influence, and I want to do as little harm as I can along the way. The barn is one place where I get to find out how well I live up to that. I decide what we work on, how I ask, and when we quit. My horse has ways of telling me how those decisions are affecting her. Whether what she tells me changes what I do is up to me. That matters most when I’m close to getting something I really want.
Say I ask a mare to stand at the mounting block. She steps away, I bring her back, and eventually she stands. If I’m eager to ride, it’s easy to call that a good result. But if I watch the whole video later, I might see that she braced every time I put my foot in the stirrup. I might see that I got so focused on keeping her feet still that I missed the very thing she was trying to tell me. How she feels about standing there while I get on matters at least as much to me as whether she stands. Some days, it matters more. I want to be able to look back at how we got there and feel good about what I asked her to go through. If getting on means brushing off her worry because I want to ride, there’s a cost to both of us. She has to live through the experience, and I’ve just made it a little easier for myself to overlook her worry the next time.
That’s the kind of evidence I want to get better at looking for. What happened just before she stepped away? What changed in her when I changed my approach? What does she offer the next time I bring her to the block? Watching what happens over a few sessions gives me more to go on, especially if I’m willing to look at the parts I’d be tempted to edit out.
To me, that’s where accountability gets practical. If I’m teaching and someone asks why I kept going when a horse was struggling, I ought to be able to tell them what I saw, what I was trying to help the horse understand, and what would have made me change my approach. Sometimes, looking back, the honest answer is that I missed something or got attached to the goal. I want the people who learn from me to feel comfortable asking about those moments. I want to hold the people I admire to the same standard.
Most of the time, when I’m home training alone, there’s nobody there to ask me those questions. That’s one reason I like to film. I can go back and watch the moment when I thought, There, she got it, and see what my horse was doing while I was busy feeling pleased with myself. Sometimes I see a horse who’s more comfortable and more willing to try. Sometimes I see a horse who did what I asked and gave me good reason to rethink how I asked it.
The ends don’t always justify the means. I think the hardest time to remember that is when the means worked. So when I’m pleased with what my horse did, I want to ask myself one more question. If I could get the same result tomorrow, would I be willing to ask her to go through the same thing again?