Potential new rules for dog professionals

Live in hope, die in despair?

I've been thinking about this whole possibility of licensing dog professionals.

And I'm genuinely not sure how I feel about it.

Which, to be honest, is probably a healthier starting point than immediately joining one of the industry's two established tribes and announcing that everyone on the other side is destroying dogs.

So grab a coffee.

Let's have a chat.

Because there is actually something happening.

The Responsible Dog Ownership Taskforce has been looking at the issue of dog training and behaviour, and one of its recommendations is to explore options for regulating dog trainers and behaviourists.

Notice the wording.

Explore options.

We're not at the point where someone from the government is going to kick my door down tomorrow morning and ask to see my Dog Trainer Licence.

But the conversation is happening.

And I think it is probably a conversation worth having.

The problem

Let's start with the obvious bit.

At the moment, pretty much anyone can call themselves a dog trainer.

Or a behaviourist.

Or, if they're feeling particularly adventurous, a canine behaviour specialist, holistic canine relationship consultant, transformational dog coach...

You get the idea.

Some of these people will be brilliant.

Some will be perfectly competent.

Some will be learning as they go.

And some will have watched enough episodes of a dog training programme to confidently diagnose your Labrador with three different disorders before lunch.

And the general public doesn't necessarily have any easy way of telling them apart.

That's the problem.

There are no protected titles for dog trainers or behaviourists in the way there are for some other professions.

There isn't one compulsory qualification.

There isn't one universally recognised professional register.

There isn't one government-approved route that says:

“Congratulations. You have demonstrated that you know what you're doing. Off you go.”

Instead, owners are often left trying to work it out for themselves.

Qualifications.

Memberships.

Reviews.

Facebook followers.

Pretty websites.

Testimonials.

Someone's dog sitting nicely in a photograph.

A bloke on Instagram shouting “NO!” at a German Shepherd.

Take your pick.

And, frankly, I can see why the government might be looking at this.

But then my cynical little brain gets involved

Because here is where I start having questions.

Membership.

Accreditation.

Insurance.

Courses.

CPD.

Certificates.

Registers.

Everyone wants your money.

It sometimes feels as though the dog industry has developed a remarkably simple business model:

Pay us money and you can have a badge.

Pay a bit more and you can have a shinier badge.

Pay even more and perhaps someone will call you a Master Canine Professional of Advanced Excellence.

I'm exaggerating.

But sadly not a lot.

And before anyone gets their knickers in a twist, I'm not against any of those things.

I have insurance.

I spend money learning.

I read.

I research.

I attend courses.

I buy books.

I spend an unhealthy amount of time thinking about dog behaviour when I should probably be doing something else.

I actually think professional development is important.

If you're taking someone's money to work with their dog, you have a responsibility to know what you're doing and to keep improving.

But there's a difference between professional standards and professional-looking stationery.

And that distinction matters.

Because right now I could pay the right organisation enough money to become a member and call myself a Master Trainer.

That doesn't magically make me competent.

A certificate doesn't install knowledge into your brain like a software update.

And a badge on your website doesn't make the dog in front of you any less complicated.

And then there are the professional bodies...

This is where things get particularly interesting.

There are already a lot of different orgasinations all wanting a piece of the pie.

Apparently becoming a professional dog trainer is a little bit like joining a gym.

There are quite a few to choose from.

You've got professional bodies, associations, registers, accreditation schemes, training providers and various organisations offering their own qualifications and memberships.

Many of them will quite reasonably tell you that joining them, completing their course, passing their assessment or meeting their requirements demonstrates that you're a professional.

Which sounds reassuring.

Until you start wondering:

Professional according to whom?

Because that's the bit I find fascinating.

There isn't one universally recognised qualification that says:

“This person is now officially a professional dog trainer.”

Instead, there are multiple organisations, each with their own requirements, standards, courses, memberships and ways of demonstrating competence.

Some are undoubtedly more rigorous than others.

Some require practical assessment.

Some have continuing professional development requirements.

Some have codes of conduct.

And some appear to involve varying combinations of filling in forms, paying money and putting a rather nice logo on your website.

I'm not saying the organisations are all the same.

They clearly aren't.

And I'm certainly not saying that membership of an organisation automatically means someone is incompetent.

Far from it.

But here's the question I'd like to ask:

If the answer to that problem is simply to create another badge, another register and another annual membership fee...

We've just added another layer to the fog.

And I can already imagine the future.

Government announces:

“Dog professionals will now be regulated.”

The industry collectively gasps.

Twenty-seven organisations immediately release statements explaining why their existing scheme is obviously the one that should be recognised.

Several announce exciting new *Government-Compliant Professional Gold Standard Platinum Membership Packages™*.

Membership fees mysteriously increase.

And somewhere in the background, Dave from Facebook is still walking six Labradors down the road with one poo bag between them.

I'm being sarcastic.

Obviously.

Mostly.

But there is a serious point underneath it.

If regulation eventually arrives, I would really like it to simplify things for the public rather than make them even more complicated.

I don't particularly want an owner to have to spend three evenings researching professional bodies just to work out whet

So could licensing help?

Potentially.

And that's probably the word I keep coming back to.

Potentially.

The Taskforce has looked at different ways regulation might work, including establishing educational and professional standards and using accredited organisations to assess whether those standards are actually being met.

There has also been discussion about whether trainers and behaviourists could be brought into existing regulatory frameworks.

But here's the interesting bit.

The Taskforce didn't simply look at the existing animal activity licensing system and say:

“Yep. Stick dog trainers in that.”

Because licensing a business isn't necessarily the same thing as regulating a profession.

You can inspect a premises.

You can check whether certain requirements are being met.

But how do you decide whether someone actually understands canine behaviour?

How do you assess their ability to recognise stress?

Their understanding of learning theory?

Their ability to manage risk?

Their ability to know when they're out of their depth?

Their ability to explain things to an owner without making the owner feel like an absolute failure?

And perhaps most importantly...

How do you assess whether their advice is actually appropriate for the individual dog in front of them?

That's a rather different problem.

And then we have Wales

Which makes things even more interesting for those of us working here.

Wales has already been looking at a national approach to regulating animal welfare activities.

Dog walking, doggy daycare, pet sitting, grooming, training and behaviour work have all appeared in the wider conversation.

But it isn't as simple as:

“Wales has decided to licence dog trainers.”

It hasn't.

The Welsh Government has been taking a phased approach, with the initial focus elsewhere and further activities potentially considered later.

Which brings us neatly back to my favourite subject.

Potentially.

It's a wonderful word.

It allows you to have an entire conversation about something without actually having to do it yet.

Politicians love it.

Dog trainers probably should too.

Here's the bit that bothers me

Let's imagine licensing eventually arrives.

Let's say the government decides that dog trainers need to meet certain standards.

Fantastic.

I'm interested.

But...

Who actually complies?

Because if you're already insured...

Already keeping records...

Already doing CPD...

Already learning...

Already taking welfare seriously...

Already trying to run a legitimate business...

What happens?

You comply.

You fill in the forms.

You pay the fee.

You renew it next year.

And the year after that.

Meanwhile, Dave down the road who has decided he is now a dog trainer because he successfully taught his Spaniel to sit continues advertising on Facebook.

Dave doesn't have insurance.

Dave doesn't belong to anything.

Dave hasn't done any CPD.

Dave has absolutely no intention of applying for a licence.

Dave sees your new regulation and says:

“Nah.”

And carries on.

And that's where I think any licensing system lives or dies.

Because if the only people who end up licensed are the people who were already trying to do things properly, we've achieved something rather strange.

We've made the responsible people more expensive to run.

We haven't necessarily made the industry safer.

And this isn't just about money

Although, let's be honest, money matters.

I'm running a small business.

Every additional cost matters.

Insurance costs money.

Courses cost money.

Equipment costs money.

Fuel costs money.

Website costs money.

And apparently breathing while self-employed is probably going to require a subscription shortly.

But I'd happily pay for something if I could see what it actually achieved.

That's the important distinction for me.

But if it means:

“Here's your annual fee. Here's your certificate. Have a lovely day.”

Then forgive me if I'm not immediately dancing around the kitchen.

And then there's the big question...

Who decides what good dog training actually looks like?

Now we're getting somewhere.

Because dog trainers aren't exactly famous for agreeing with each other.

We've got positive reinforcement people.

Balanced trainers.

Force-free trainers.

Reward-based trainers.

Trainers who don't like labels.

Trainers who use every label available.

Trainers who think a slip lead is the beginning of the apocalypse.

Trainers who think a clicker is apparently a weapon of mass destruction.

Okay.

I'm exaggerating again.

But only slightly.

So if we're going to regulate the profession, somebody has to decide what the minimum standard actually is.

What should a professional know?

What should they understand about learning?

What should they understand about welfare?

How should they recognise fear and stress?

How should they manage risk?

What should they do when a case is beyond their competence?

What equipment is acceptable?

What methods are acceptable?

What methods aren't?

And who gets the final say?

If this goes forward I can already see the Facebook comments.

“THIS IS WHY THE INDUSTRY IS BROKEN.”

“THE GOVERNMENT IS COMING FOR YOUR DOG.”

“THIS IS A VICTORY FOR FORCE-FREE.”

“THIS IS A VICTORY FOR BALANCED TRAINING.”

And someone will inevitably post a picture of a Labrador wearing a bandana.

I'm not entirely sure what that will prove, but I'm sure it'll have 700 likes.

Personally, I'd rather see meaningful standards than meaningless badges

That's probably where I land.

I don't think regulation is automatically bad.

Actually, I think professional regulation could be a very good thing.

But I'd rather see fewer meaningless barriers and more meaningful standards.

I'd rather ask:

Can this person demonstrate competence?

Not:

Have they paid their membership fee?

I'd rather owners understand what qualifications actually mean.

I'd rather there were clear expectations around welfare, knowledge, insurance, safeguarding, record keeping and professional conduct.

I'd rather there was a proper route for dealing with genuinely poor practice.

And I'd rather the system was designed to catch the people who currently operate completely outside any meaningful professional framework.

Because otherwise we're going to end up in a slightly ridiculous situation.

The responsible trainers will proudly display their new licence.

The responsible trainers will renew it every year.

The responsible trainers will pay their fees.

The responsible trainers will do their CPD.

And the people the system was supposedly designed to deal with will carry on doing exactly what they've always done.

So where does that leave me?

Sitting here with my coffee, apparently.

I'm actually quite interested to see where this goes.

Because there is a genuine problem here.

Owners shouldn't have to become amateur detectives just to work out whether the person they've paid to help their dog actually knows what they're doing.

And dogs shouldn't be the guinea pigs while someone works out whether their latest TikTok training technique works.

But I'm also wary of the idea that regulation automatically equals better standards.

It doesn't.

Good regulation might.

Bad regulation won't.

And expensive regulation that responsible professionals follow while everyone else ignores it could potentially just make life more expensive for the people already trying to do things properly.

So yes.

I'm keeping an open mind.

I might even be cautiously optimistic.

Which is frankly concerning.

But until I know what the final system actually looks like, I'm going to reserve judgement.

Because at the moment we're still very much at the:

“We're exploring the possibilities...”

stage.

And as someone who has spent enough time around government processes will tell you exploring the possibilities can mean absolutely anything from:

“This is happening.”

to

“See you again in 2037.”

I'll remain interested.

I'll remain hopeful.

I'll remain slightly suspicious.

And I'll probably keep my Despair Premium subscription running.

Just in case.