Those Three Little Words…
So I was out trail riding with a group of people, and my horse, Glory, kicked at another horse. Nothing serious, mind you, and to be fair the other horse was crowding her, but still. A kick. Horses kicking at other horses with people present can result in broken bones, even when the kick isn’t meant to hurt, so this is kind of a big deal.
I pulled Glory around with a, “That was inappropriate,” and gave her a kick of my own. (From on her back; don’t think I hauled off and kicked my horse.)
Someone behind me said, “Well, Missy was riding up on her, so actually it was appropriate.”
I laughed with the others and answered, “When there’s riders on the horses it’s never appropriate.”
A few minutes later I was riding beside someone and my mare made ugly ears at their horse (whom she’d taken an instant dislike to). I nudged her aside with my leg and said something like, “Oh, stop that, he’s fine.”
The rider of the horse, possibly thinking to keep Glory out of trouble, said, “Oh, it’s just instinct.”
I smiled and said, “No, actually, it isn’t.”
She laughed and insisted, “It’s their instinct.”
I laughed and said, a little more firmly, “No, in fact, it’s not.”
Someone else called something around that time and we broke apart, no more words spoken. But, oh, those three little words.
It’s their instinct.
I hate those words. Three little words, responsible for the death of how many animals that could have been saved if people stopped thinking that their behaviors were instinct, and therefore ingrained and unfixable?
Let’s break this down. If Glory’s kick had been instinct, then all horses would kick when put in that situation — and yet they don’t. If it had been instinct, then when put in that situation again a few minutes later (which she was), she would have kicked again. Nothing I could do would stop it. Yet, she didn’t.
According to Britannica, instinct is “an inborn impulse or motivation to action typically performed in response to specific external stimuli. Today instinct is generally described as a stereotyped, apparently unlearned, genetically determined behaviour pattern.”
Kicking in a specific situation is learned; it’s not instinct.
When most people say “instinct,” what they’re really talking about is “inclination.” (According to dictionary.com, they’re the same, but the scientific definition definitely isn’t “inclination.”) My inclination when faced with an asshat is to punch them, but I don’t. Glory’s inclination when crowded by other horses is to kick out, which she used to do with little provocation, but she’s learned not to — or at least, it takes a lot more provocation these days.
But an inclination doesn’t have to be acted on. An instinct does. Why are my panties in a knot over this?
There’s this huge tendency to call dogs’ bad behaviors instincts. When you do that, it makes it sound like it’ll be difficult, if not impossible, to change. People give up. Even trainers give up. “Her instinct is to protect her food, so we can’t change the food aggression, only manage it.” This is exactly what a veterinary behaviorist told a client of mine. But within a week we’d solved the problem — it didn’t even take very long, although the dog had been attacking anyone who came near her bowl for over a year. Because it’s not an instinct, it’s an inclination, and inclinations can be trumped by learning.
That’s all training is. Learning.
“His instinct is to attack dogs when he’s on leash and sees them.” No, his inclination is to attack dogs, but he can learn not to follow that inclination. Eventually, the inclination even goes away. He’s learned a bad coping mechanism, and he needs a better one. That’s a learning process, and that’s all. There’s nothing inborn that makes that dog have to lunge and bark and carry on at other dogs.
But as long as people are saying, “It’s their instinct,” it feels like you’re fighting an uphill, maybe impossible battle. And if you believe the battle is impossible to win… then it is.
How many dogs are going to be put down, because someone believes that being aggressive is their instinct and can’t be changed? I’ve even seen dog trainers fall under this spell.
So. I hate those three little words. Language is as important as training. Bad behavior isn’t an instinct: it’s an inclination, and an inclination can be ignored for better behavior, or changed entirely.
Glory kicked out at the horse that was crowding her and got in trouble for it. When the horse crowded her again, I rewarded her for remaining calm. And you know what? She didn’t kick out again.
Instinct, my ass.
Jenna