Bribery

Apparently, I'm corrupting your dog with cheese.

“You're bribing your dog!”

“Yes, Karen, and yours is harassing that lady with the pram.”

There.

I've said it.

Apparently, using food to train a dog is one of the great moral failures of modern dog ownership.

Somewhere along the way, giving a dog something they actually value for doing something we've asked them to do became bribery.

Apparently, I'm not a dog trainer.

I'm a corrupt influence.

A canine crime lord.

Running some sort of underground sausage-based bribery operation from the back of my car.

And frankly, I'm embracing my villain era.

Whats in the box?

“My dog only does it for treats.”

Okay.

And?

Do you only go to work because of the money?

I mean, hopefully you enjoy your job.

But if your employer announced tomorrow:

“We've decided money is actually a bribe, so we're not paying you anymore.”

I'd imagine enthusiasm for Monday morning might decline slightly.

We all work for consequences.

We do things because they lead to things we value.

Dogs are no different.

If I ask my dog to come back and he does, giving him something he really likes makes coming back more worthwhile.

That's not corruption.

That's learning.

And there's another really interesting thing here:

Working for something can actually make us value it more.

Think about it.

If I hand you something for free, you might appreciate it.

But if you've worked hard for it, saved for it, waited for it or achieved something to earn it, it can feel more valuable.

Dogs aren't necessarily any different.

Getting something because they've successfully completed a behaviour can make that outcome meaningful.

The dog isn't thinking:

“Excellent. My labour has increased the subjective value of this resource.”

They're probably thinking:

“I did the thing. Chicken happened. I quite like this arrangement.”

And that's perfectly fine.

In fact, that's exactly the sort of association we're trying to create.

Behaviour → good consequence → behaviour becomes more valuable to repeat.

So when someone says:

“But you're making your dog work for his food!”

My answer is:

Yes.

That's rather the point.

We're not withholding something to be cruel.

We're giving the dog opportunities to earn things they already value, while teaching them behaviours that are useful in everyday life.

And frankly, if my dogs have to sit politely before getting a bit of chicken rather than launching themselves at my hand like furry woodchippers, I'd call that a pretty reasonable employment contract.

So what actually is a bribe?

A bribe is generally something offered to influence a behaviour before it happens, particularly when we're using it to persuade someone to do something they otherwise wouldn't do.

And this distinction matters in dog training.

If I hold a piece of food directly in front of your dog's nose and use it to get them to sit, I'm luring.

That's not necessarily bad.

Luring can be incredibly useful when we're teaching a new behaviour.

But if your dog refuses to come back unless they can see the chicken beforehand, we've potentially created a different problem.

The dog has learned:

“I need to see the payment before I decide whether this job is worth doing.”

That's where people start shouting:

“See! You're bribing him!”

Not necessarily.

It may simply mean we haven't yet transferred the behaviour from following the food to responding to the cue.

That's a training issue.

Not a moral crisis.

The difference between bribery and reinforcement

Here's the really important bit.

A bribe comes first to persuade the behaviour.

A reinforcer comes after the behaviour and makes that behaviour more likely to happen again.

For example:

Bribery:

“Come here and I'll give you this sausage.”

Dog looks at sausage.

Dog thinks about it. #Dog decides whether sausage is worth the journey.

Negotiations commence.

Reinforcement:

“Come!”

Dog comes.

Sausage appears.

Dog learns:

“Coming when called is a bloody good idea.”

That's a very different learning process.

And if that makes me the villain?

Fine.

I'll accept my fate.

Pass the sausages.

“But he'll only work for food!”

Yes.

And?

Food is important to dogs.

It is literally one of the things that keeps them alive.

We're not discovering some terrible character flaw here.

If your dog is highly motivated by food, congratulations.

You've won the training lottery.

Use it.

There are other reinforcers too.

Toys.

Sniffing.

Playing.

Access to the garden.

Going for a walk.

Being released to investigate something interesting.

Attention.

Social interaction.

Sometimes simply being allowed to continue doing something the dog enjoys.

The reinforcer depends on the dog and the situation.

Which is rather convenient.

Because dogs aren't vending machines.

Although some people seem determined to train them as though they are.

Insert cue.

Receive behaviour.

Dispense biscuit.

Repeat.

“But I don't want my dog to only listen when I have treats.”

Neither do I.

And this is where good training matters.

We don't necessarily want to walk around for the rest of our lives with a pocket full of chicken.

Although, frankly, there are worse problems to have.

The aim is to teach the behaviour, reinforce it, and gradually make the food less predictable where appropriate.

Your dog learns:

The cue has meaning.

Doing the behaviour pays off.

I don't need to see the food first.

And eventually, the food doesn't have to appear every single time.

But here's something important:

That doesn't mean food has stopped being part of the learning history.

Your dog has learned that listening to you is worthwhile.

That's the point.

We shouldn't expect dogs to perform behaviours repeatedly for no reason simply because we've decided they ought to.

And here's the funny thing...

People will happily pay their dog £40 for a fancy chew.

£15 for a squeaky toy.

£60 for a dog bed they immediately ignore.

£8 for a bag of treats.

Then they'll look horrified when I suggest using those treats to teach the dog something useful.

“BUT THAT'S BRIBERY!”

Apparently giving the dog something delicious for coming when called is corrupt.

Giving them a £70 fluffy donut bed they use as rag toy.

Perfectly acceptable.

Buying them an enormous stuffed toy they destroy in nine minutes?

Fine.

Giving them a piece of chicken because they came away from another dog when called?

SOCIETY HAS COLLAPSED.

Dogs have very strange accountants.

“I don't want them to start begging.”

Please sir can I have some more?

Ah yes.

The terrifying slippery slope.

Today you're rewarding your dog for sitting.

Tomorrow they're sitting beside the kitchen worktop.

Next week they're wearing a little flat cap and standing outside Tesco asking strangers for spare change.

It's a serious concern.

Except... no.

Using food in training doesn't automatically teach a dog to beg.

The behaviour you reinforce is the behaviour that becomes more likely.

If you reward your dog for sitting quietly while you're eating, you're reinforcing sitting quietly.

If you reward them for coming when called, you're reinforcing coming when called.

If you give them food every time they stare at you while you're eating, paw your leg, bark at you or shove their nose into your dinner...

Congratulations. You've just trained begging.

That's not the fault of the chicken.

It's the fault of the training plan.

And yes, I'm aware that sounds suspiciously like I'm blaming the human.

its because in this case I am.

The answer isn't:

“Never use food because your dog might become dependent on it.”

The answer is:

“Be clear about which behaviours you want to reinforce.”

You can even use food to teach the dog the exact opposite of begging.

Dog sits beside the table.

Nothing happens.

Dog lies on their bed.

Good things happen.

Dog leaves your dinner alone.

Good things happen.

Dog waits patiently while you finish eating.

Good things happen.

You're not creating a food-obsessed monster.

You're teaching them that calm behaviour gets results and pestering doesn't.

And here's another little secret:

You don't have to share your dinner with your dog.

You can train them with their own food.

You can use some of their daily allowance.

You can use treats specifically for training.

Or you can simply choose not to reinforce begging behaviour.

The dog doesn't get to decide the rules just because they've deployed The Big Brown Eyes™.

Although I appreciate this is where things get difficult.

Because those eyes are powerful.

But that's a human training problem.

Not a bribery problem.

So yes, use food.

Use it intelligently.

Reinforce the behaviours you actually want.

And if your dog starts begging?

Don't blame the treats.

Blame the person who kept paying the beggar.

And before anyone gets offended...

Yes.

That person is probably you.

“I shouldn't have to reward my dog.”

This is another one I hear.

And I understand where it comes from. I really do.

We want our dogs to listen because they trust us.

We want a relationship.

We don't want every interaction to become:

“What's in it for me?”

But here's the thing.

Reinforcement doesn't replace a relationship.

It helps build one.

If your dog repeatedly experiences:

I listen to my human → good things happen

then listening becomes valuable.

And over time, the relationship itself becomes part of that reinforcement history.

We aren't paying a dog forever to love us.

We're teaching them that working with us is worthwhile.

Apparently this is controversial.

I'll try to contain my criminal activities.

Sometimes food really is the wrong tool

And this is where I'd push back against the other extreme too.

Food isn't magic.

If your dog is terrified, wildly over threshold, completely overwhelmed or facing a situation that is too difficult, waving a piece of chicken at them isn't necessarily going to fix it, and no stake wont work ether.

Sometimes the answer isn't:

“Better treats.”

Sometimes the answer is:

“This situation is too difficult.”

Distance.

Management.

Changing the environment.

Reducing pressure.

Making the behaviour easier.

Helping the dog feel safe.

Food is a tool.

It's not a religion.

So, am I bribing my dog?

If you're waving a food in front of your dog's nose and saying:

“Please, please, please listen. I've got chicken.”

Then perhaps a little.

But that's not a disaster.

You're probably just at the beginning of the training process.

The goal is to move towards:

“Come!”

Dog comes.

“Good dog!”

Reward.

And eventually:

“Come!”

Dog comes.

And sometimes:

“Good dog!”

Sometimes a treat.

Sometimes a game.

Sometimes they get to go sniff that really interesting bush.

Sometimes life itself provides the reward.

And let's be honest...

Your dog isn't stupid.

They know there are consequences to their choices.

If you ask them to come away from the most fascinating smell they've encountered in their entire life and offer them absolutely nothing in return, they may reasonably wonder whether you've lost the plot.

You're essentially asking:

“Would you like to leave the thing you really want and come over here so we can do absolutely nothing?”

And the dog says:

“I'll get back to you.”

That's not stubbornness.

That's economics.

And frankly, your dog may have a better understanding of supply and demand than I do.

So let's stop calling everything bribery

If you're using food to lure a behaviour, call it a lure.

If you're using something after a behaviour to increase the likelihood of that behaviour happening again, that's reinforcement.

If you're trying to persuade your dog to do something by waving the reward in front of them before they'll cooperate, you might reasonably call that bribery.

But none of these things make you a bad dog owner.

And using food in training doesn't mean your dog doesn't respect you.

It doesn't mean your relationship is fake.

It doesn't mean your dog is only interested in what you can give them.

It means you've discovered something your dog values and you're using that information to help them learn.

Which, when you put it like that, sounds remarkably sensible.

My verdict

Bribery?

Sometimes.

Luring?

Absolutely.

Reinforcement?

Hopefully.

Corrupting your dog?

Almost certainly not.

Am I apparently the villain because I carry treats?

Yes.

I've accepted my fate.

Meanwhile, Karen's dog is currently halfway down the high street, dragging her towards a woman with a pram while she shouts:

“He's friendly!”

And I'm standing there with a hand full of bits of cheese thinking:

“Well, at least my dog is getting paid.”

Because I'm the bad guy.

Fine.

I'll wear the outfit.

But I'm keeping the cheese.