SAHD · Professional article

The Dangerous Dog Experts

The Dangerous Dog Experts

By Anders H. Davidsen
SAHD – Centre for Behaviour and Mentality

They are everywhere now. People who have had a dog—perhaps several—and think that is the same as having worked with dogs. People who have fed and loved a dog, and let it walk off-leash, and think that means they understand behaviour.

People who take a good photo, write a few beautiful words (probably someone else’s), add a filter and a few hearts—and suddenly appear to be experts. It is like claiming you can drive rallycross because you own a four-wheel-drive vehicle. It is not just naive; it is directly dangerous—above all for the dog.

People who have never dealt with a truly demanding case, but still believe they know what must be done. People who have never followed a dog through prolonged insecurity, but take a course over a weekend or a few online sessions. People who have never felt the responsibility when a decision really matters, but still recommend euthanasia when their method does not work—and some simply have no moral or ethical filter.

Then there are those who do not necessarily recommend that a dog should die, but do not know what is actually appropriate either. They try one solution they have learned and stick to it—regardless of the dog or situation. Not because it works, but because it is the only one they know. When the toolbox is empty after the first attempt, but they continue as though this is the right path, it is no longer professional practice. It is guesswork. We see this all the time.

And then there are those who truly want to help. People who feel deeply, are moved by a look and interpret every pause as trust. They see kindness and think that is enough. But goodwill and emotion can never replace understanding. “Heartache” has become our new professional knowledge—and that is dangerous.

When unease and tension are interpreted as security simply because it felt right, it is no longer the dog that is being read. One’s own needs are being reflected. When someone begins measures that seem “nice” and “kind”, while the dog is actually entering suppressed stress and compliance, the core has been lost.

If you do not know the real signals, it is easy to think things are going well because nothing looks dramatic. But flight can also be silent.

You have to read the whole dog, not only what confirms the feeling you already have.

Ethology is not about praise, love or freedom—it is about much more. It is about understanding the biological reality of interaction.

Psychology is about much more than scattering treats around.

Pedagogy is about much more than smiling, serving heart emojis and cake.

It is about knowing whether contact is grounded in a good relationship or a longing for support—and whether it is an attempt to calm you down. Knowing this is professional knowledge. So is recognising when a dog is trying to take control, not because it wants to lead, but because no one else is doing so.

That is why opinions, gut feelings or simple experience are not enough. When behaviour is assessed—especially where serious consequences may follow—you have to know what you are seeing. Do not merely believe. Do not merely feel. Do not merely hope. It requires knowledge, systematic and extensive experience, and an understanding of the connections behind what is visible and of the discipline of behaviour. It is not the same as dog training, which is something else entirely (a separate post on that will follow).

You have to know what you are seeing. You have to tolerate asking why it is happening. And you must be able to ask yourself the most difficult question: Could it be that I do not understand this yet? Everyone who knows a great deal does exactly this. It is those who do not know what they do not know who “know everything”.

That question separates those who make a difference from those who cause harm.

I have seen “behaviour experts” bitten because they do not see the signs, do not understand them or are unaware of their seriousness. They know even less about how to respond to them.

I have seen “behaviour experts” keep dogs separated inside the home because they have no idea how to solve problems that are relatively straightforward professionally—for those who know how.

I have seen behaviour experts (some of whom have even elevated themselves to training other “behaviour experts”) euthanise their own dogs because they cannot manage them.

But they have courses in language and behaviour to show for it.

And that is precisely what makes this so serious: I have visited countless owners with secure, good family dogs that have already received one verdict: euthanasia. Not because the dog was dangerous. Not because the situation was hopeless. But because an “expert” misunderstood what they saw and could not see their own limitations. They have attended six behaviour seminars, you see—and someone tells them that now they are experts. They follow skilled dog professionals online without understanding the depth of their knowledge. Simple problems are blown out of proportion through poor judgement and lack of understanding.

Perhaps the dog simply needed a different framework for life. But you must be able to see, understand AND act correctly.

When professional weakness has consequences for life, it is not merely unfortunate. It is unacceptable.

But it is so easy today: just copy what others say—people cheer—but the “expert” does not know what they do not know. They have no idea of its depth, and the customer with the dog has no idea of the danger to which they may be exposing their dog.

Those who truly know dogs—the experienced, humble and knowledgeable people who are honest about what they see—may not get the chance to save the dog before someone has pronounced a death sentence. Those who do not wrap everything in glossy pictures, hearts and an outward declaration of love for the dog, so affected that the lack of knowledge is clear and they have to use hearts instead of knowledge. And people swallow it whole—because what is easier to sell than love, performative kindness and the best intentions, even when knowledge is absent? The latter then end up at the back of the queue: knowledge no longer matters much, as long as people can be showered with heart emojis and join the owner in being very sad when “the dog could not be saved”.

Norway’s dog world has become an environment that drops professional knowledge because it takes effort. It is so easy to look like a professional without knowledge today. I have said before that there is a dog school in every girl’s bedroom—well, now behaviour centres are popping up on “every” lawn…

So no—it is not enough to mean well. It is not enough to be moved. It is not enough to “give time and freedom”. When you do not understand what you are freeing a dog from—or what you are exposing it to—that is not help. It is a human idea wrapped in good intentions.

There is a reason there have never been more “behaviour experts” while the number of dogs with behaviour problems is exploding… Just saying…

And this is not harmless.

It is dangerous—life-threatening.