If you've ever been told to "show your dog who's boss" or "never let them win," you've bumped into dominance theory, an approach to dog training that was mainstream for decades and is now pretty thoroughly debunked. It came up early in my IMDT coursework, and I remember being genuinely surprised at how much of it I'd absorbed without ever questioning it. Modern dog training has moved on significantly since then, and positive reinforcement sits at the centre of that shift.
This isn't about being soft on your dog. It's about being effective, and it's the approach I've been learning to use with my own Shollie, Teddy, since I started my training.
What is positive reinforcement?
One of the first things I learned is that positive reinforcement is one of four quadrants in what's known as operant conditioning, a model developed by the psychologist B.F. Skinner. The four quadrants are positive reinforcement, negative reinforcement, positive punishment, and negative punishment. "Positive" and "negative" here don't mean good and bad. They simply mean adding something or taking something away.
Positive reinforcement means adding something your dog likes immediately after a behaviour you want to see more of. Teddy sits, he gets a treat. He comes back when called, he gets a fuss. The behaviour gets repeated because it has a history of producing good outcomes. Put simply, reinforcement is how you get more of a behaviour.
The word doing the heavy lifting is immediately. Dogs don't connect consequences to behaviour the way we do. If your dog pulls on the lead for ten minutes and then sits calmly, and you reward the calm sit, that's what gets reinforced, not the ten minutes of pulling that came before it. Timing matters more than I expected before I started learning this properly, which is why so many trainers use a marker, a clicker, or a word like "yes", to pinpoint the exact moment the dog gets it right. A marker is essentially a promise that a reward is coming.
One thing I've had to work out for myself with Teddy: what counts as a reward is entirely up to your own dog. Some dogs will do almost anything for a scrap of cheese. Others care far more about a tug toy or the chance to sniff a lamppost for a bit longer. Figuring out what Teddy genuinely values, and saving the good stuff for the hardest tasks, has honestly been half the battle.
Why punishment-based training backfires
Punishment in this context usually means positive punishment: adding something the dog finds unpleasant, like a telling-off, a physical correction, or a tool designed to cause discomfort. It does sometimes stop a behaviour in the short term, which is why it can feel like it's working. The research tells a more complicated story.
A 2020 study published in the journal PLOS ONE by Ana Catarina Vieira de Castro and colleagues found that dogs trained using aversive methods showed more stress-related behaviours and higher cortisol levels than those trained with reward-based methods, both during training and outside of it (read the study here). A later 2021 study published in Scientific Reports went further, finding that dogs trained with aversive methods were measurably more "pessimistic" in cognitive tests (read it here).
There's a deeper problem with positive punishment too, and it's the one that stuck with me most from my coursework. When you punish a dog, an association is always formed, but you don't get to choose what that association is. You might think you're telling your dog off for barking at the window. Your dog might be learning that the person walking past the window is what makes you frightening. Punishment also tends to suppress a behaviour without teaching the dog what to do instead. You've told them off for jumping up, but they still don't know that four paws on the floor is what earns attention.
The dominance myth
The idea that dogs are constantly trying to dominate their owners, and that you need to establish yourself as the "alpha," comes from wolf studies conducted in the mid-20th century. Those studies observed captive, unrelated wolves forced together in an artificial group, which produced social dynamics that simply don't reflect how wolves behave in the wild, let alone how domestic dogs behave with humans.
Dogs are not wolves. Even if they were, the original research has been largely walked back by the very scientist who popularised it. David Mech, whose 1970 book made the "alpha wolf" concept famous, has spent years trying to correct the record, even campaigning to get his own book taken out of print (he explains why on his website). As he puts it, wolf packs are simply families led by breeding parents, not groups locked in a constant battle for supremacy (Scientific American covers this well).
This was genuinely one of the more eye-opening parts of my early coursework. The dominance model isn't just outdated, it actively pushes owners towards training strategies that damage the relationship they're trying to build with their dog.
What this looks like in practice with Teddy
It's worth being specific here, because "positive reinforcement" can sound a bit vague until you see it in action.
Recall: Every single time Teddy comes back to me, something good happens. A treat, a game, proper enthusiastic praise, whatever he's in the mood for that day. I never call him back just to end a walk or clip the lead on. If coming back always predicts good things, he comes back faster. I've been practising this in enclosed spaces before trying it anywhere with real distractions, since the Downs and Ashton Court are, frankly, championship level for a young dog's focus.
Lead walking: The moment Teddy's lead goes loose, I mark it and reward it there and then. It's the loose lead itself I'm reinforcing, not ten minutes of pulling followed by a treat at the end. Where I deliver the treat matters too. Reward by your leg and that's where your dog learns to hang around.
Jumping up: This is one I found genuinely reassuring to learn properly. Dogs often jump up to reach our faces, where they can gather scent information about us. It's a greeting, not a challenge. Rather than ignoring it and waiting it out, my trainer's advice was to teach a behaviour that's physically impossible to do at the same time, and a solid sit is the obvious choice. Teddy can't sit and jump up at once, so reinforcing the sit when I get home is gradually replacing the jumping. Getting down to his level to say hello properly takes away the reason to jump in the first place too.
The pattern is consistent across all of it. You're not bribing your dog, you're communicating clearly what actually works.
"But my dog only does it for treats"
This is the most common pushback I hear from other owners, and it's worth addressing properly, because the answer is more interesting than most people expect.
When you're teaching something brand new, rewarding every single correct repetition, known as continuous reinforcement, is the fastest way to get the behaviour established. Food tends to be the most efficient reward at this stage because it's quick and almost universally motivating.
Here's the part that genuinely surprised me. Once the behaviour is solid, you don't keep rewarding every time. You move to what's called a variable schedule, where the reward becomes unpredictable. Sometimes your dog gets a treat, sometimes they don't, and they never know which it'll be. Counterintuitively, this makes the behaviour more durable, not less. A thin, unpredictable reward schedule produces the greatest resistance to a behaviour fading away.
The comparison my trainer used is gambling. A slot machine pays out unpredictably, and that's exactly what keeps people pulling the lever. It's the same principle behind phasing treats right down once a behaviour is learned, without the behaviour disappearing. You're not committing to a lifetime of carrying a bag of chicken. You're building something that lasts.
Getting started in Bristol
If you want to put this into practice, the good news is that Bristol is well served for positive, reward-based training. When choosing a trainer, look for someone who describes their approach as force-free, reward-based, or positive reinforcement, and who holds a qualification from a recognised body such as the IMDT (Institute of Modern Dog Trainers), which is the route I'm on myself, or membership of the Animal Behaviour and Training Council.
It's also worth getting your walking equipment right, since good kit makes reward-based training far easier. Local independent shops like Eat Play Love in Bedminster specialise in properly fitted harnesses and only stock force-free training gear, which is a good place to start if you're unsure.
Once your recall is solid, Bristol has no shortage of good places to practise it. Take a look at our guides to dog-friendly South Bristol and dog-friendly Clifton for walks, parks, and the spots where a well-trained dog makes life easier.
The bottom line
Positive reinforcement works better than punishment not because it's kinder, though it is, but because it produces more reliable behaviour and a stronger relationship between dog and owner. Dogs trained this way aren't just compliant, they're engaged, because training has always predicted good things.
Your dog isn't trying to dominate you. They're just trying to figure out what works. I'm still learning how to help Teddy figure that out faster, and I'll keep sharing what I pick up along the way.
This is part of my ongoing IMDT training journey, written up as I go rather than as settled expert advice. If you're dealing with something more serious than everyday training, it's always worth speaking to a qualified trainer or a vet directly.
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