There is a difference between unnecessary punishment and correction.
Today, I’m here to write about why it’s important to realize that horses don’t see punishment like we do, but that they can work well with fair correction.
First, I’m going to use an example from my childhood involving an instructor who had me unnecessarily punish the pony I was riding. Then, I’ll then talk about an Italian instructor who showed me what I consider to be correction done the right way.
Unnecessary Punishment is Ugly
I was a short-stirrup student attending a showjumping clinic put on by an Olympian.
The jumps were set just below two feet — all but one imposing Swedish oxer on the far side of the ring, at least.
We did just fine until it came time to jump that monster of a spread.
My pony and I rounded the corner to face the oxer. I felt him tense up under me so I began to doubt that we were going to make it over the jump. As expected, he stopped and spooked.
The Olympian told me to whip him as he stood over it. I did.
We circled around to face the oxer again. He was buzzy and alert, but before we could round the corner, he stopped, refusing to turn the bend.
She told me to whip him again. I did.
It got to the point that he wouldn’t move forward at all. She told us to come to the center of the ring and try again after the next girl had her turn.
The next girl jumped it just fine. Pony and I got our set of instructions. I began to cry.
She wanted me to whip him at a canter as we rounded the corner. I did it, even though it took way more coordination than I was capable of at the time. I almost ate dirt but he jumped the oxer; his body twitched at every movement of mine, as we came to a halt.
I thought that was what it took to be a good rider. An Olympian was telling me so, after all.
Young minds are so impressionable.
Punishment is Confusing for Horses
Now that I have experience with the ins-and-outs of horse behavior, I can posit a guess at what was going through my poor pony’s mind that day.
Here’s what was actually happening to my pony’s nervous system:
- The first punishment, a whip in front of the oxer, caused the nervous system to enter a state of fight or flight,
- He associated the stress of whipping with being close to the jump, so tried his best to stay away from that now ‘scary’ spot.
- The pony eventually refused to move forward because he realized that no matter what he did, he’d get punished for it.
- Unable to protect him, his nervous system entered a shut down state.
He “learned” nothing from the experience. His mind did not connect the unnecessary punishment of being whipped with the idea that he should jump the oxer.
In fact, it did the opposite; it put his body through all of the stress responses and further cemented within his mind that the area near the jump is not safe.
In short, the punishment began to create trauma.
This clinic is a memory I wish I didn’t have stored in my mind’s arsenal. I know better now (no thanks to a literal Olympian) so I do better.
Correction Shouldn’t Escalate Stress Beyond Thresholds
Flash forward a few years to a field in Italy.
A group of kids were out on the cross country course, taking turns at brush boxes and uprights.
It was my turn to approach a corner fence with a bit of brush on top.
I faced my horse to the jump and pushed him on. It felt like he was only half listening. His canter faded as we approached. He wiggled around a bit then stopped as I slid up his neck.
My instructor asked, “You didn’t show it to him first? Why not?”
I thought for a minute and shrugged my shoulders. Weren’t horses just supposed to be trained to jump regardless of whether they’re shown a jump beforehand or not?
She told me to give him lots of neck scratches in front of the jump, as he poked it with his nose, and then walk him to the backside of the jump and do the same. The instructor told me to approach again but with one small correction.
She told me to tap his shoulder with my crop just enough to get his attention.
“Make him focus on his job. Remind him that you’re up there.”
I did what she said and we flew over it.
The horse didn’t get stressed out. His eyeballs didn’t pop out of his head at my slight taps on the shoulder. His kept to the thinking side of his brain rather than the reactive one.
Tapping his shoulder to get his attention didn’t overflow his bucket of stress as I had done in the Olympian scenario. His desire to possibly refuse the jump wasn’t amplified either. He was thinking rather than reacting.
Animals Don’t Always Understand Punishment
There’s some bias built in to human minds that make us believe an animal understands what they’re being punished for. This isn’t always the case. I really like this article from the Humane Society of Missouri that discusses this further.
Oftentimes, punishment amplifies bad behavior as it adds to the stress of a situation, rather than alleviating stress so the horse can get back to the thinking side of his brain rather than the reactive side.
Key notes
- My pony didn’t understand why he was being punished and so had no way of reacting in a way that would relieve it, beyond freezing and shutting down.
- The example of correction I used didn’t even come from the idea of the horse understanding what the stick taps meant. It was a correction in getting the horse’s focus back. That they inherently understand because they pay attention to, and tune in to, what is stimulating them — in this case, me as the source of the tapping stick.
It brought his mind back to the present moment as well as every other cue I gave him as we bounded towards the corner fence. Between that and the no-stress approach to the first refusal, getting over the jump (or the rest of the course’s fences) was no issue.
I certainly know which of these two scenarios I prefer.
Keep the curiosity alive — Elle
For more personal stories, check out my story about how horses teach us to be curious, or maybe my take on helping horses relax into learning rather than causing doubt as we train.