The History of Dog Sports is the History of Modern Dog Training

And, for that matter, the history of the dog training industry.

To tell this story, we first have to go back over 160 years to England, to a time when the interest in dogs was starting to catch hold. Actually, let's start a little before then, to a time when wealthy men spent half of their spare time training their dogs for field work*, and the other half arguing with each other about training dogs for field work.

Oh, but they didn't stop there. They'd also argue endlessly as to the merits of their dogs' structure and temperament, and why their dog (and all the relatives to their dog) was superior.

Interestingly, these men who seemed to offhandedly outsource every kind of labour they possibly could, would often take a lot of pride in hand rearing and training their own puppies. As the 19th century wore on, this became the norm. Prior to then, it was most common for men to send their dogs off to a gamekeeper for training. A gamekeeper was a bit of a jack of all trades; he would breed, raise and train kennels of dogs and game/birds, all while maintaining their hunting grounds. While this was still common throughout the century, as time wore on, they began earning a bit of a snake-oil-salesman vibe. 'Its better to do it yourself', the wealthy men would often say, both because these gamekeepers were a tad shady, but also because it meant the dog would bond the strongest to them, and would listen to them before anyone else (in theory). This also went beyond training; these men would also be responsible for the feeding and exercise of their dogs, at least while they were puppies, for the same reason.

It became clear during the mid 19th century that every single one of these working dog men had their own theories as to what constituted the best field dog, in mind, body and training. There began calls for some sort of organization to form to settle things once and for all, so when conformation showing became a thing, they were initially thrilled.

Conformation shows (hereafter called bench shows) began in 1859 in Newcastle-on-Tyne at a humble agricultural show. Much to the delight of these working dog men, the pointer and the setter were the dogs chosen to be showcased. Unlike previous 'shows' that were common during that time, this wasn't a mere doggy beauty pageant, it was a real attempt at the creation of a physical 'standard' from which to base both the breeds.

It was received very well, not just from the working dog men but also from the general public. And due to this, the premise caught like wildfire. Still in a relatively informal capacity, other dog fanciers began attempting to standardise their own breeds, both in England and in other countries.

It only took a few years, though, for the working dog men to notice a troubling trend; the dogs that were routinely placing at these bench shows had never actually set foot in the field. And what was the point of that? Looks were only half the picture, what about their working ability? What about their trainability?

Their criticism was met with either silence, or assurances of workability. Witnessed by none other than the bench bred dog's owners. Or friends of the owners. Never by anyone with a lick of field experiences (there were, of course, exceptions).

This led to an attempt to create a field trial organization in 1865. The working dog men perhaps naively believed that it was the absence of such things that stopped the breed fanciers from working their dogs. Yes, it was an absence of ribbons and clout that kept the bench dogs from ever seeing a field! And not the years of training and the risk of failure and humiliation that did it!

Anyway, these never picked up steam the way conformation had. Likely because of the mountain of work and training it would take, the need for space for training and competing (whereas bench shows were regularly held in city centres), and the complete absence of women and the working class from the sport.

The Kennel Club eventually formed in 1873 and took over both bench shows and field trials. Now, this all might seem super irrelevant to the dog training industry, but bear with me.

All over the world, kennel clubs began popping up and dog-mad fanciers began establishing their own breeds. It became a nations-race to have their own national breed, a source of pride and recognition. And everywhere that happened, we had working dog men stomping their feet and growing red in the face with frustration.

Collies that had never seen a sheep, terriers that had never hunted game, it was preposterous that such dogs were winning when the entire reason for their breed's existence was their 'career'. And there was never any selective pressure from the kennel clubs to keep that workability.

But, this isn't necessarily a bad thing. Many of the more honest fanciers came out very early and said that breeding dogs for looks was the 'future' and was necessary to preserve these dogs. And they were right! Many dogs have gone extinct because their historical 'job' didn't exist anymore and no one cared enough to begin concerted efforts to conserve their genes! The only reason a lot of modern dog breeds exist is because of the effort of fanciers, pure and simple. When you compare the numbers of dogs in conformation showing with those in 'sports' in the 19th century, it's quite apparent that this is true.

Unless a dog's job had a very real application in 'modern' life, breeding them away from their working roots and into this 'modern' age makes sense. As much as people might hate to admit that (and I'm a lover of all working dogs, but I'm also a realist!).

In response to the growing popularity of showing, and out of pure desperation (and perhaps a little bit of spite), working dog men started their own efforts at preserving their dogs with objective means of measuring their temperament and - by extension - their training.

Enter: sports. Admittedly, they were less like 'sports' back then and more like 'breed selection tests'. Meaning; there would certainly be winners and losers, but the goal was to weed out the best genetics and traits to pass on to the next generation. This was quite evident in the original bench dogs; the pointer and the setter. Field trials became a big deal, especially in the United States, at the end of the 19th century.

But they were not alone. There were some breeds that followed the exact same path as the pointer and setter (like the collie; farmers spearheaded efforts at testing their working stock under standardised parameters). But there were others that followed a different path.

Namely: the Belgian Malinois. The Belgian Shepherd is now split into 4 subtypes, 3 of which were, from the 19th century, bred largely out of show stock originating from herding dogs in Belgium. If it weren't for the effort of their fanciers, those 3 types would be lost, because the Belgian Shepherd was rapidly becoming redundant due to dwindling numbers of sheep (thanks to competing markets in NZ and Aus). But, to cut a long story short, a man had begun using a few of these shepherds for public performances. These performances were conducted in a ring, and consisted of three elements; dressage (obedience), agility, and biting.

Many fanciers did not like this, not at all. They were worried that promoting these dogs for biting purposes would cause the wrong type of people to gravitate to them. Fortunately for the Malinois, the Belgian Police force stepped in with a bit of an odd request. Due to budget cuts, they needed to subsidize man power and decided dogs would be perfect! And what better dog than one that was already on its way to being a national symbol for the country?

A slight tangent: although the 4 varieties of Belgian Shepherd are classed in the herding group, the Malinois has been solely selectively bred for bitework since its inception. That's like 150 years of breeding for biting, crazy!

These 3-pronged public performances eventually became the framework for the various 'ring' sport in Europe. These sports would be used to test and train dogs for police work, and for suitability for breeding.

There were a few other European countries that wanted to do the same thing, both within police work and military (namely; Germany, but also Russia). They established dog training schools, and various tests to select the best dogs.

And 'dog training' as a profession truly began. Why now? Because now there was money to be made, and there was a way to objectively assess the quality of dogs and of their training.

Back to field trials for a moment; there is a really interesting discussion on how this changed dog training forever in one of Bernard Water's books (can't remember which, Field and something...). Basically, all the old wives tails were done away with, the gamekeepers stepped away from training as their methods were found to be far inferior to those working in the sporting circuit. And as the sports became more competitive, the training got significantly better. It was harsh as hell, brutal and bloody awful by today's standards, but way better.

The same could be said of the biting world, where the sport of Schutzhund was in its early days, along with Belgian Ring.

So, that is how the dog training industry got its start; from sport/breed selection tests. From consistently producing dogs that performed at relatively high levels. And, of course, from the real working world (military and police, but this is less important as it pertains to modern training).

The 20th century held a whole lot of change too, and not all of it good. England began an early version of obedience trialling, from which the American Kennel Club (specifically two women) adopted and adapted into modern obedience trials. More versions of field trials popped up, and pet dog ownership began a steady climb.

The two world wars saw that steady climb skyrocket, along with interest in dog training and sports. In fact, from the 1930s to about the 60s, sport and pet dog training were near identical. If pet dog owners wanted their dogs trained, they would go to their local clubs. The first puppy classes began in the 70s and were exclusively run through clubs too. Dogs were becoming a big deal!

But... training wasn't exactly nice. Thanks to the influence of training for war, and a whole lot of other social pressures that I'll talk about another time, dog training didn't change a whole lot until the 80s. There was the odd book that talked about unpopular methods of training before then; the use of food and clickers/bridging stimulus, management etc. But it remained uncommon until very recently.

So what exactly changed that? Ask most trainers that and they'll tell you that science changed that. The influence of B.F Skinner, his students the Brelands, and people like Karen Pryor. And this is certainly true, at least partially, but there is some nuance to it.

Firstly, compulsive training methods were popular for so long because they had competition as an objective means of testing its effectiveness. It was consistent in producing well trained dogs. Inducive means of training, namely 'lure-reward' methods, and clicker training, just couldn't compete at the time. Anyone that tried to use it were ridiculed, but it didn't really matter because most trainers that going the food-route were exclusively pet dog trainers. And the thing with pet dog training that still holds true today, is there is no benchmark for 'well trained'. There is no standard by which we measure good training. Because of this, inducive training stagnated for a little while. It was seen as soft and ineffective by the sporting trainers and clubs - bribery! They'd claim. You can't take food into the ring!

And it wasn't like sporting trainers didn't try to embrace inducement. Many of them were curious enough of clicker training and 'positive' methods that they went to seminars and bought books and experimented with their own dogs. It was generally very effective, up until a certain point. This was especially the case with the bite--sport dogs who had to share the field with their biggest competing motivator; the decoy (the guy in the bite suit). And attempts to combine inducement and compulsion (thereby getting the best of both worlds; a joyful performance that held up under high levels of distraction) were haphazard and caused unintended problems.

But something started to shift. That spark of curiosity for alternative methods, the need to channel into an existing framework, and the motivation that can only arise from competitiveness. A concept was born; Training in Drive. Surface level, it looked similar to lure-reward methods tried previously, but there was something different. Where much of the resources relating to positive training came from the pet dog sector which promoted calmness and used a relatively boring reward-style, training in drive aimed to squeeze out as much enthusiasm from the dogs as possible.

This movement can be traced back to Sheila Booth's book, Schutzhund Obedience: Training in Drive. And while, by today's standards, its pretty basic, it did something that nothing else had done consistently before; it produced beautiful performances in a very difficult sport. Over the span of a decade, the obedience performances in Schutzhund changed dramatically from robotic, slow and hesitant compliance, to the explosive, energetic routines that we know so well today. But, what is perhaps more incredible is that the judging parameters changed to reflect this trend. And the result is an absolute explosion in motivational methods that were quite distinct from the super basic lure-reward methods that are still so popular today.

And its not solely this deviation from the traditional inducive methods that has caused such significant progress - its also the ability to combine compulsion with training in drive in such a way that avoids any negative fallout. What the sporting trainers of the late 20th-early 21st century have done is exactly what the original dog trainers did during the inception of the industry itself; it weeded out the ineffective, it 'cleaned up' systems and processes, and the result is something beautiful.

The biggest difference - something that is truly a miracle - between these two phases of our evolution is that the former had little concern for the individual dog. They believed that if a dog loved the sport, they would tolerate all kinds of abuse in the name of training. They had little care for the dog's emotional state - in fact, they'd often times try to squash any exuberance and pizazz in the field in favour of steadiness. There were exceptions through the decades; competitive obedience prior to the war looked like it might have headed in Schutzhund's direction. But it was not to be.

This newest phase of the industry has managed to combine a concern for the dog's emotional state with an objective measure of results. Dogs that look happy in the ring and were performing precise behaviours are happier, and they're doing better than dogs that look flat and unenthused.

To highlight why this is a miracle, all we need to do is look at the horse training and competition (specifically dressage) world. While rewards-based methods are growing in popularity, the industry is seriously behind the dog world for one big reason; their judging parameters have barely changed. In fact, many judges award big points to performances where the horses are displaying every kind of stress signal possible. Only very recently have they started cracking down on BLOOD in the horse's mouth from a harshly used bit, and nosebands that constrict so tightly that the skin bulges around it and the horse can't open its mouth to relieve the pressure from the bit. The FEI (their governing body) has consistently voted and acted against the best interest of horses, and the progress of training. This has meant that, while there are trainers and owners that are embracing a more thoughtful training approach that gives the horse some agency and enjoyment of the process, they are the outliers as opposed to the norm. Unlike in the dog world, where pretty much everyone is using predominately rewards-based methods to train in sports, and most pet dog owners/trainers use at least some degree of similar methods in training too.

Can you imagine if Schutzhund never modified their judging? Or, worse, they modified it to encourage harsh methods? With points added for every flinch, every creeping step in heel?

The reality of this dog mad world is that we would have been on the same slow trajectory of change if it weren't for trainers bold enough to dabble in something new, and if the sporting world and organizations didn't embrace this evolution. That's not to say things are perfect - the AKC has faced criticism over the older generation of judges penalizing enthusiastic heeling - but we've progressed so much further than we would have.

My own love of dog sports came about from watching the joyful performances of dogs in Schutzhund, and the play-based training many of the handlers used to get it. It was just so... odd. So different, it was nothing like the 'positive' training I'd seen before from any mainstream pet dog trainers. And it truly wasn't! It was entirely another league to see these magician/trainers bring out a dog's soul and channel it so effectively. Looking back, it’s hard not to be a little awed by how far we’ve come. From gamekeepers and field trials to clickers and play, the history of dog sports has always been the history of progress. Every shift in competition, every tweak in judging, every spark of curiosity from a handler has shaped how we understand dogs today.

And we’re still evolving. The next chapter of dog training will be written by those who keep asking questions and are brave enough to try new things. If history has taught us anything, it’s that the best training always comes from the intersection of heart, science, and sport.