Operating within a false paradigm

Fallacies and paradigms- 2 of my favourite new words. Are you operating within a false paradigm?

First question – what is a paradigm?

Are you operating within a false paradigm, i.e. a false belief system? How does this relate to horses? I hear you cry…

Let me use a personal example of operating within a false paradigm.

Some years ago there was an incredibly successful black dressage stallion from the Continent. He and his rider posted record breaking scores. His movement was spectacular- his forelegs seemed to reach for the sky, stretching far beyond where his nose pointed, and the crowd gasped and cooed. And the judges also gasped and cooed. The record breaking scores led me to believe that this sort of movement must be sought, a result of the pinnacle of skilful and careful dressage training.

At the time, I wanted to learn more about how to train my horse, from scratch, all the way though to magnificence. At the time the black stallion was the epitome of competitive magnificence in my eyes. He was scoring over 80% and winning every gold medal around.

So my paradigm: because this combination was winning everything, he must be the most correct rider, and the black beauty the most beautifully trained horse out there.

As I read and learned more, I started to read about Rollkur. This rider is a well known exponent of Rollkur, or LDR, or deep stretching, or whatever fluffy name the proponents choose to use. This is an abusive training method where the horse’s head is hoiked in behind the vertical to achieve control and submission. This deprives the horse of his sight and also the use of his neck. It was first used by Nicole Uphoff and a big horse called Rembrandt who was too hot for her to handle in competition situations. Rollkur allowed her to ride him under control. And she won…lots.

Rollkur also has a strange effect on the movement of the forelegs. It accentuates flinging of the forelimbs while failing to engage the hind limbs. It creates or accentuates spectacular forelimb movement, but not in a biomechanically sound way.

Rollkur for prolonged periods of time was banned by the FEI in competition and warm up in 2010, on the basis that it is abusive, and that training in this position is bad for the horse’s health and soundness.

https://practicalhorsemanmag.com/health-archive/hyperflexion-in-horses

But the effects of Rollkur, the unnatural spectacular gaits on a hollow back and an overbent neck, continue to be rewarded.

So as an amateur learning dressage, I studied those high scoring tests. I tried to reconcile how this hero of dressage, a sport espousing harmony and partnership, could be considered abusive? How could the results of an abusive training method be winning rides, when dressage is an art as well as a sport, and is all about harmony, and improving the physique of the horse?

I did this weird thing in my head- maybe Rollkur done skilfully isn’t abusive? Maybe he wasn’t actually doing Rollkur, but something very close to it? Maybe it was possible to train a horse to show that degree of forelimb extravagance without using Rollkur? Maybe the horse was bred with that movement and he was simply harnessing it? May be we needed better horses to win, not to be better riders?

BUT DRESSAGE SHOULD BE A TEST OF TRAINING? Alerich, Wily Trout, these were thoroughbreds with ordinary movement, who were made more magnificent by correct training.

At my sister’s riding club in Germany, a Fjord pony used to win regularly at their equivalent of PSG, because he was trained to be the best athlete he could be.

I watched the black stallion’s tests on YouTube, over and over. And as I watched them more, and read more, and learned more, I began to notice other stuff.

The black stallion actually had very good, large moving, but correct gaits as a youngster. The trot in the later work wasn’t regular. The diagonal pairs didn’t match. The hind legs were uneven, one almost hops behind. The head is mostly behind the vertical, not mostly in front occasionally coming to the vertical as required in the FEI rules.

There was little harmony- the curb was torqued horizontally on tight reins and the stallion straining to escape. And his eye still haunts me, now I know what pain looks like.

I was struggling to understand how something that didn’t fit the FEI’s own definitions of the movements required could score so highly. The judges are the protectors and guardians of our sport- why would they reward incorrect work so highly?

When I want to learn something, truly learn and understand something, I go to the best textbooks.

I’m a surgeon- to know how to operate on a human, one needs to know the anatomy, the physiology, the function, and the likely effects of intervention. When we are schooling our horses, we are doing daily mini operations, working to improve the form and the function. To do that we do need detailed knowledge.

The first book in my dressage collection was a gift, and a key find.

Yet the details it contained of correct movements and exercises were not evident in the tests I was watching, nor in all the photos in this book.

Then came Aachen. The black stallion by now had another rider- who was struggling to ride him as successfully. More ominously though, his gaits looked very uneven by now. He was deemed fit to compete at Aachen, but the videos of that test show obvious lameness. How could the best equine vets in the world have passed him fit to compete?

http://www.horsemagazine.com/thm/2015/08/dressage-at-aachen-not-so-great-for-the-sport/

Then came Rio. Another Continental horse was passed fit to compete despite having been on intravenous painkillers and antibiotics overnight, having had a temperature of 40C and despite being in obvious, glaring pain in the warm up. The cause of the injury was first reported as fractured jaw, then a spider bite, but the cause is really immaterial. How could a true equestrian even contemplate competing their horse after a night like that? A human can choose to go out feeling ill, a horse needs us to speak for them.

And the vets should have spoken for the poor chestnut horse. The team vets did their best to get him into the ring- dubious but possibly understandable; their job is to look after the horses for the team, after all. But the official vets, those adjudicating, how did they let him warm up, let alone enter the arena?

http://taviannaomi.wixsite.com/indubioproequus/single-post/2014/05/01/The-Glass-Cieling

So the best vets in the world, employed by the FEI to monitor the competition, to make sure our equine partners are happy athletes as stated in their directives, allowed a very ill horse to be saddle up, ridden in obvious pain, and proceed to the competition.

My paradigm at that time- these are the best horses in the world, trained to the highest standard, protected by the rules and by the most experienced professionals in the world, whose job is to uphold the rules.

It would seem that paradigm was false…

Are you operating within a false paradigm? What are your beliefs regarding your role as a trainer, rider and protector of your horse? Have you examined those beliefs, checked them against your knowledge, discovered the gaps in your knowledge and sought to fill those gaps? Or do you blindly accept, as I once did, that the experts must know best?

And most importantly, have you twisted the observations of your own eyes, ignored your own feel, to fit in with your current belief system? I know I did, I denied the evidence of my own eyes, argued with others who didn’t know much about horses, yet who saw discomfort and weirdness more clearly,  until the cognitive dissonance within my own head was churning me up inside.

Luckily for me at the time, I had a very clear and outspoken horse, whose body and mind did not tolerate training that caused physical or psychological damage, no matter how much I loved him, and how genuine I was in wanting the best for him. For Paddy, and now for Cal and Rocky, trying hard wasn’t good enough, I have to learn to do it correctly.

I was operating within a false paradigm.

I don’t have beliefs any more, or heroes, or idols. I have growing knowledge, an expanding skill set, and I have learned to listen to my horses.

Horses don’t have paradigms 🙂