Abstract

In the absence of formal regulation, the dog training and behaviour consultancy industry relies heavily on self-defined ethical standards to guide practice. This commentary examines the limitations of ethical codes in an unregulated field, arguing that while such standards offer valuable frameworks, they cannot substitute for practitioner competence. Drawing from professional ethics, animal welfare, and behaviour science, I explore how ethical behaviour depends not on rule adherence but on knowledge, critical reflection, and relational understanding. It also identifies key strategies for fostering an ethical culture, including competency development, cross-sector collaboration, and compassionate accountability. Ultimately, this commentary calls for a shift from performative ethics to meaningful engagement with the moral complexities of working with nonhuman animals.

Introduction

The fields of dog training and behaviour consultancy operate in a unique professional terrain — one where the stakes are high, the public interest is significant, and yet regulation is notably absent. Despite engaging with sentient, vulnerable individuals and mediating relationships that carry immense emotional and social weight, dog trainers and behaviour consultants are, in most places, not required to meet any specific educational, ethical, or professional standard (Charles, 2019; Rugaas, 2011; Todd, 2018; Wlodarczyk, 2017). In this context, the creation and promotion of ethical codes or standards becomes a central strategy for shaping the profession from within. But this raises a fundamental and complex question: What does it mean to construct and adhere to an ethical standard in an industry with no regulatory backbone?

The Limitations of Ethical Standards in an Unregulated Field

At its core, the concept of a professional code of ethics is about guiding conduct — about providing practitioners with principles to inform their decisions, particularly when navigating ethical ambiguity or balancing competing interests (Ernst et al., 2009; Lauria & Long, 2019; Mcauliffe & Chenoweth, 2008). In fields with formal regulation, codes of ethics are typically paired with credentialing bodies, disciplinary procedures, and mandatory education (Ernst et al., 2009; Lindsay, 1996). In contrast, the dog training industry often adopts ethical codes voluntarily and without oversight. Multiple organisations offer certifications, each with their own ethical frameworks, but without a shared governing authority or unified expectation of competence. As a result, adherence to ethical standards becomes largely performative and self-defined (Niesche & Haase, 2012; Shneiderman, 2020). This challenge is not unique to dog training. Similar struggles have been documented in other unregulated or semi-regulated fields — such as coaching, alternative medicine, and aspects of education and therapy — where professional identity is shaped more by cultural capital, discourse, and self-ascribed legitimacy than by formal oversight (Evetts, 2013; Schneiderman, 2020). These professions similarly rely on ethical codes to signal professionalism, even in the absence of enforceable standards or shared accreditation pathways.

Yet the absence of regulation does not diminish the importance of ethical inquiry; on the contrary, it makes it more urgent. In such a landscape, ethical codes serve as scaffolding — frameworks for reflection, consistency, and conversation. They establish expectations not only for individual practitioners but for the industry as a whole. When well-developed, these standards can help identify practices that fall short of our collective values, expose normative contradictions (such as the use of aversives under the banner of “positive training”), and draw attention to the experiences of the nonhuman animal as a moral subject in their own right (Sayers, Bell & Martin, 2021).

However, ethical standards are not a proxy for ethical behaviour. A code of ethics may provide a roadmap, but it cannot ensure that the practitioner behind the wheel can read the signs, or even chooses to. Knowledge, competence, emotional intelligence, and reflective capacity are not guaranteed by one’s stated alignment with a set of principles. In fact, without a strong foundation in behavioural science, animal welfare, communication, and learning theory, ethical codes risk becoming hollow, reduced to marketing language or used selectively to defend questionable practices. This phenomenon is especially visible when ethical terms are co-opted to justify coercive methods. “Minimising harm,” for instance, may be used to rationalise aversive tools if the alternative is framed as worse, even when such tools result in fear, learned helplessness, or diminished agency (Cole, 2011; Jones, 2022; Stibbe, 2001; Wlodarczyk, 2018).

In this way, we see a critical distinction: Ethical standards may influence the discourse, but they cannot produce ethical practitioners. It is competency — not merely stated values — that enables a trainer or behaviour consultant to act ethically. Competency includes not only technical knowledge and skill, but also the ability to recognise the nuances of nonhuman animal communication, to engage in agency-based interactions, and to navigate the caregiver’s emotional world with empathy and clarity (Yeates, Röcklinsberg & Gjerris, 2011). Without these capacities, even the best ethical frameworks become unworkable in practice.

Ethical Pluralism and Organisational Bias

There is another layer of complexity here, too. Ethical standards are often developed through consensus within organisations — yet these organisations reflect specific epistemologies, cultural biases, and professional priorities. What counts as “ethical” is not always agreed upon (Inguaggiato et al., 2019; Williams, 1988). In some cases, standards are shaped by welfarist assumptions that frame animals as beings to be cared for but ultimately used for human benefit. In others, standards may be rooted in liberationist or rights-based perspectives that seek to challenge human exceptionalism altogether. The absence of a singular ethical authority in the industry means that multiple — and sometimes conflicting — ethical frameworks coexist (Inguaggiato et al., 2019). This plurality can be productive, but it can also generate confusion and fragmentation. Without shared grounding, discussions about ethics may devolve into ideological standoffs rather than thoughtful dialogue (Kaldjian, 2017; Tsai & Bendersky, 2015).

Complicating matters further is the public nature of dog training and the ubiquity of social media in shaping industry discourse. Ethical codes are no longer internal documents used solely to guide professional conduct; they are outward-facing tools used to signal credibility to clients and peers (Edenberg, 2021). This visibility is a double-edged sword. On one hand, it can promote transparency and public education. On the other, it can incentivise performative ethics, where adherence to values is proclaimed more than practiced, and dissent is punished rather than debated (Loo, 2013). In such a climate, ethical reflection may become secondary to branding, eroding the very integrity such standards aim to uphold.

This is not to argue against the creation or use of ethical standards. In an unregulated field, they are among the few mechanisms available to raise expectations, promote professional integrity, and protect nonhuman animal welfare (Yeates, 2010). But we must be honest about their limitations. They are not enforcement tools. They are not pedagogical tools. And they are not measures of quality. They are invitations — starting points for ongoing critical engagement with what it means to do right by the beings in our care.

Ethical standards, at their best, have the potential to do more than signal alignment or draw professional boundaries. They can become aspirational frameworks — dynamic and context-sensitive — built not only on harm reduction but also on values like autonomy, consent, and relational accountability. Some existing models have attempted to formalise these ideals into structured guidelines or decision-making hierarchies. While these offer useful scaffolding, they often require critical interpretation, thoughtful application, and a firm grounding in behaviour science, ethics, and lived experience to be effective. The challenge lies in ensuring that such frameworks remain pedagogically useful, ethically coherent, and responsive to both the learner’s needs and the caregiver’s realities.

To be meaningful, ethical standards must be accompanied by efforts to raise baseline competency in the field. That means investing in accessible education, mentorship, interdisciplinary dialogue, and the development of evaluative tools that assess not only knowledge, but judgment. It means promoting a professional culture that values humility over certainty, inquiry over defensiveness, and collaboration over competition. And it means recognising that ethical behaviour is not the product of knowing a rule, but of engaging in a practice. Ultimately, if the ethics of dog training and behaviour consultancy cannot be reduced to codes or slogans, they must live in the everyday decisions practitioners make — in how they interpret a dog’s dis/comfort, how they respond to caregiver pressure, how they navigate the trade-offs between safety and autonomy, and how they remain accountable to those who cannot always consent or speak for themselves in situations that involve deep reflection of future outcomes (Yeates, 2018). In an unregulated industry, our ethical standards are only as strong as our willingness to interrogate them, and ourselves.

Building a Culture of Ethical Competency

If ethical standards alone are not enough to ensure ethical practice in dog training and behaviour consultancy, then the question becomes: What can we do instead — or alongside — to move the industry forward? Below are not rigid prescriptions, but proposals for building the kind of reflective, competent, and accountable culture that ethical standards gesture toward, but cannot create alone.

Prioritise Competency

Ethics must be inseparable from knowledge. Instead of relying solely on ethical pledges or declarations of “force-free” or “science-based” practice, we must prioritise ongoing education that fosters critical thinking, behavioural literacy, and emotional intelligence. Competency should include not just technique, but the ability to interpret the body language of the species whom we are working with, assess welfare and wellbeing holistically, and communicate clearly and compassionately with caregivers. This requires a shift in focus, from whether someone “follows the rules” to whether they demonstrate the capacity to understand, apply, and reflect on the rules. We can then begin to normalise a more regulated initial and ongoing assessments, mentorships, peer review, and reflective supervision as markers of professionalism — not just certifications.

Make Space for Ethical Dialogue, Not Just Ethical Declarations

Dog training is often framed in binary terms: ethical versus unethical, R+ versus aversive, skilled versus unqualified, balanced versus force free. But ethical dilemmas are rarely that simple. What we need are more spaces — both in education and professional discourse — for not just conclusions about ethics, but conversations about them. This includes case study discussions, critical incident debriefs, and facilitated dialogue where disagreement is welcomed as a space for learning rather than condemnation. We must also be willing to examine the social, emotional, and financial pressures that shape practice. Caregivers may not have access to ideal solutions. Trainers may be working within shelters or institutions with conflicting expectations. An ethical culture must be one that invites complexity, not silences it.

Develop Shared Benchmarks for Behavioural and Ethical Competency

Without formal regulation, industry organisations and educators can collaborate to define clear, achievable, and publicly transparent benchmarks for what ethical and competent practice looks like. This might include (but is not limited to):

1. Core competencies in learning theory, welfare/wellbeing assessment, and choice-based training, such as, but not limited to:
   • In-depth understanding of classical and operant conditioning, reinforcement schedules, and behaviour modification techniques, including insights from Applied Behaviour Analysis (ABA). ABA is a widely recognised framework that emphasises the systematic application of learning principles to promote meaningful behaviour changes. An understanding of ABA is crucial for designing interventions that are both effective and ethical, as it encourages the use of clear, measurable goals and reinforces positive behaviour while minimizing harmful practices.
   • Ability to assess animal welfare and emotional wellbeing through behavioural indicators and environmental factors, ensuring that training methods do not cause distress or discomfort to the nonhuman learner.
   • Expertise in implementing choice-based training methods that prioritise the nonhuman learner’s autonomy and agency. These methods emphasise allowing the learner to make decisions about their environment, fostering a sense of control that is essential for emotional wellbeing and cognitive engagement.
   • Strong coaching/consulting skills for guiding clients through behaviour modification processes, with an emphasis on making the most ethical choices in context. This includes helping clients understand the implications of their actions and ensuring that training is conducted with compassion and respect.
   • Knowledge of human behaviour change techniques and how to empower animal caregivers to facilitate long-term, positive changes in both their own behaviour and the behaviour of their animals.
   • Experience in applying behavioural science in practical, real-world settings to achieve sustainable results without causing harm to nonhuman learners. This includes familiarity with evidence-based practices and the integration of various behavioural models, such as ABA, to ensure that interventions are appropriate and effective.
   • Proficiency in identifying and navigating ethical dilemmas that arise during training, such as balancing nonhuman animal welfare and wellbeing with client goals. This requires critical thinking and the ability to assess both immediate and long-term consequences.
   • Ability to critically assess and resolve conflicts in training practices, ensuring that decisions align with ethical standards of care and respect for species-specific agency. Trainers must be equipped to handle challenges that emerge in complex situations, always prioritizing the learner’s welfare.
   • Commitment to upholding ethical frameworks in decision-making, while considering potential risks and unintended consequences of training methods. This involves not just the application of behavioural science but also a deep understanding of the moral and ethical implications of each choice made.
2. Ethical scenarios integrated into certification assessments to ensure that trainers and behaviour consultants not only demonstrate technical proficiency but also possess the ethical clarity required for responsible practice. These scenarios should be designed to challenge candidates with complex, real-world situations where they must balance the welfare and wellbeing of the nonhuman learner with client goals, societal expectations, and professional standards. By evaluating how candidates navigate ethical dilemmas, certification programmes can help ensure that emerging professionals are prepared to make informed, compassionate decisions that align with the broader ethical frameworks of the field. Additionally, integrating such scenarios allows trainers to reflect on their personal values and biases, fostering greater self-awareness and growth in ethical decision-making.
3. Continued education requirements that include topics like cultural humility, emotional labour, and relational ethics. First, cultural humility is a vital component in building effective and respectful relationships, particularly when interacting with individuals from diverse cultural backgrounds (Wright, 2019). It involves approaching these interactions with openness, self-reflection, and a willingness to learn. Unlike cultural competence, which emphasises acquiring knowledge about other cultures, cultural humility acknowledges that we can never fully understand another person’s experiences or worldview. Instead, it encourages a commitment to ongoing learning and respectful engagement, allowing for deeper, more empathetic connections.Emotional labour, in professional and caregiving contexts, refers to the management of one’s emotions to fulfil the emotional needs of others. In the field of nonhuman animal training and behaviour consultation, this can mean regulating emotional responses when working with clients or animals in high-stress situations and supporting clients through emotionally charged training processes. However, emotional labour is not limited to human participants in the training process. Nonhuman animals also engage in emotional labour, particularly when they are taught or asked to interact in ways that require emotional self-regulation. For instance, a dog may need to manage stress or anxiety while learning new tasks or responding to human cues. This effort, referred to as “emotion work” (Warda, 2020), is the emotional labour nonhuman animals expend in regulating their responses to training and social interactions. Acknowledging the emotional labour of nonhuman animals highlights the ethical obligation of trainers and behaviour consultants to minimise undue stress and ensure the emotional well-being of all learners. Understanding that both humans and nonhuman animals engage in emotional labour during training underscores the importance of creating emotionally supportive, low-stress environments that prioritise the welfare of all involved.

   Finally, relational ethics, focuses on the moral principles that govern interactions between individuals, particularly in caregiving or professional relationships (Coeckelbergh & Gunkel, 2014; Milburn, 2024; Wrye, 2009). In dog training, this concept explores how trainers engage with both nonhuman animals and human clients, ensuring that their interactions are based on respect, empathy, and mutual understanding. This ethical approach also includes being aware of power dynamics in the trainer-animal-client relationship, ensuring that the needs and well-being of both the nonhuman and the human are prioritised and addressed.

These benchmarks can serve as a common language for professionalism, even in a decentralised field.

Encourage Cross-Sector Collaboration

Ethical training and behaviour consultancy do not exist in a vacuum. They intersect with veterinary care, sheltering, legislation, education, and community advocacy. We need more interdisciplinary partnerships and more shared responsibility across sectors. For example, veterinary teams and trainers could co-develop protocols for cooperative care, or animal welfare educators could collaborate with trainers to deliver community outreach. Cross-pollination encourages contextual sensitivity — an understanding that ethical decisions don’t just depend on the learner in front of us, but the systems that surround them.

One effective example of this interdisciplinary approach in action is the Scottish SPCA’s (n.d.) Pet Aid Community Hubs, now being expanded across Scotland. Built from a series of pilot projects, this initiative brings together animal welfare experts, behaviourists, veterinarians, and human mental health charities to offer integrated support. By addressing both the emotional needs of nonhuman animals and the mental health needs of their caregivers, this programme demonstrates the value of collaboration across fields. It illustrates how combining expertise from different sectors can enhance ethical practices, benefiting both nonhuman animal welfare and human well-being.

Foster Cultures of Accountability Without Punitive Policing

In an unregulated profession, it is tempting to replace formal oversight with informal shaming. But ethical accountability is not achieved through fear — it is achieved through relationship (Cooper, 2011; Iraola, 2024). We must resist the urge to publicly “out” those we disagree with without offering pathways for repair, education, or conversation. It can be particularly challenging to speak up in a way that is both appropriate and impactful, especially within the often divisive landscape of animal training and behaviour communities. At the same time, we need clear, community-agreed boundaries about what constitutes harm — and the courage to speak up when individuals within their respective organisations cross the ethical lines they’ve agreed to uphold. This is especially true when “ethics” are used as a cover for poor practice. Not all who claim ethical training methods are competent, and not all who are competent are free from coercive habits. We must be willing to challenge each other with compassion. However, it is crucial to remember that the focus should be on fostering environments that encourage respectful, open dialogue.

To foster more constructive dialogue, we must create spaces that encourage learning and collaboration (Cortez & Preiss, 2013; Iraola et al., 2024). Collaborative events, such as conferences, workshops, book clubs, live-meeting classrooms, and webinars, offer unique opportunities for individuals to engage with each other in a manner that prioritises respect and the willingness to learn. These environments, when cultivated intentionally, help to facilitate conversations where differences in ethical views can be addressed thoughtfully and respectfully. It’s important to recognise that in these contexts, participants often attend with an open mind and a readiness to engage in difficult discussions. By nurturing such spaces, we can ensure that disagreements are handled with care, enabling all parties to question and learn from one another, rather than resorting to public conflict that stifles growth.

Ethics as Culture, Not Code

In the end, what we need is not just a better code of ethics. We need a better culture of ethics — one that values learning over allegiance, transparency over branding, and thoughtful, informed action over rote adherence to tradition, a culture in which ethical decision-making is not merely about compliance, but about reflection, dialogue, and responsiveness to the unique needs of each learner. This culture will not emerge from a single standard or organisation. It will grow from the ground up: through mentorship, self-reflection, ongoing dialogue, and a shared commitment to centring the experience of the nonhuman learner. It requires us to challenge old assumptions, embrace new perspectives, and engage with one another in a spirit of constructive inquiry.

Because the question is not only: “Are you following the rules?” But: “What does this learner need? And do you have the skill, the humility, and the ethical clarity to meet them there?” This is where true ethical growth occurs — not in checking boxes, but in asking ourselves how our methods affect the lived experience of those we work with, whether human or nonhuman. Our responsibility is to continuously evolve and improve, not only for the well-being of the nonhuman animals in our care, but for the ethical integrity of our practices, and for the future of our field. Only through this shared responsibility and mutual growth can we cultivate a culture that truly serves all learners, human and nonhuman alike.

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Erin Jones holds a PhD in Human-Animal Studies, with a research focus on the ethical dimensions of the dog-human relationship. She also earned an MSc in Anthrozoology, a BSc (Hons) double major in Anthropology and Psychology, and a Postgraduate Diploma in Animal Welfare. Erin is a Certified Professional Dog Trainer-Knowledge Assessed (CPDT-KA) with the Certification Council for Professional Dog Trainers (CCPDT), and holds both Accredited Dog Trainer (ADT) and Certified Dog Behavior Consultant (CDBC) certifications with the International Association of Animal Behavior Consultants (IAABC), as well as certifications with the Companion Animals New Zealand (CANZ-ATI and CANZ-ABC).

As the founder of the Merit Dog Project, Erin works to advance ethical dog training practices. She is the author of Constructing Canine Consent: Conceptualising and adopting a consent-focused relationship with dogs (2024, CRC Press), and co-editor of Exploring Topics in Non/Human Coexistence: Passion, Praxis, and Presence. Erin is also an international presenter and teacher. She actively engages in advancing the field of human-animal interactions, training, and behaviour consultancy through research and education.