At the dog show today? How did you do? Did you win or did you...not win?
I remember when I was very young and my parents first started showing dogs they would often talk about either winning or having been "dumped". They were brand new to the dog world, so it wasn't a catch phrase they came up with on their own, it was something they heard other people say. More established breeders and exhibitors.
As a child, I accepted the language at face value and the sentiment as fact (I was seven, so my powers of deductive reasoning were limited). As an adult competitor I never thought much about it, but as I watch the dog world today I wonder if the premise of that one simple statement isn't a contributor to the difficulties we face in establishing cohesive communities.
Owner of the Pointy Finger
I'm not a judge, but I have spent a lifetime in the dog world. No one I have ever met has set out on their journey to "judgedom" with the goal of being crooked. In fact, despite exhibitor protests to the contrary, becoming a judge is actually quite a time consuming, expensive and challenging process. Regardless, before we take one single, solitary additional step I want to be very clear that this discussion is NOT about judges. It's not about advertising or top dog races or handlers -- its about words and their power to shape our perception.
So, for just a few minutes, let's set aside the laundry list of complaints we may have about aspects of the sport that are outside of our control and instead concentrate on the words and attitudes that we ourselves take ownership of.
As a child, I accepted the language at face value and the sentiment as fact (I was seven, so my powers of deductive reasoning were limited). As an adult competitor I never thought much about it, but as I watch the dog world today I wonder if the premise of that one simple statement isn't a contributor to the difficulties we face in establishing cohesive communities.
Owner of the Pointy Finger
I'm not a judge, but I have spent a lifetime in the dog world. No one I have ever met has set out on their journey to "judgedom" with the goal of being crooked. In fact, despite exhibitor protests to the contrary, becoming a judge is actually quite a time consuming, expensive and challenging process. Regardless, before we take one single, solitary additional step I want to be very clear that this discussion is NOT about judges. It's not about advertising or top dog races or handlers -- its about words and their power to shape our perception.
So, for just a few minutes, let's set aside the laundry list of complaints we may have about aspects of the sport that are outside of our control and instead concentrate on the words and attitudes that we ourselves take ownership of.
Competing Forces
To understand the language we use, we first have to look at the environment we are operating in.
When we talk about typical sports like baseball or football, the idea of winning and losing is pretty clear cut. The team with the most points wins. The rules of the game are spelled out, the method of evaluating success is clear and subjectivity is limited purely to the calls of referees and umpires (and even then the parameters for making those decisions leave only a hairs-breadth for interpretation).
Not so in the dog world.
Much like figure skating, art competitions or film festivals, the evaluation of dogs is about as subjective as you can get. Sure, we have breed standards to guide our judges...but have you ever actually read one objectively? Beyond the hard and fast disqualifications, most breed standards merely provide an outline of the ideal, not an exhaustive handbook for weighing the relative importance of departures from it. Give that same document to 10 artists and they will come up with 10 different depictions. Lock 10 breed experts in a room and they will argue for 100 years about which virtues or faults are the most important. Consequently, judges justifiably have a fair amount of leeway in applying those standards.
Although it can be difficult to see, this diversity of opinion is actually one of the biggest strengths of the dog world. The permissiveness of breed standards in allowing individual breeders to interpret and apply according to their own understanding fosters diversity, not only in the ring but also in the gene pool. Ultimately, this approach and the divisions it creates within breeds safeguard us against the myriad problems of complete homogeneity (let alone the sheer boredom of it). It also forms the basis of our concept of competition.
Who's Competing and Why?
Now that we understand the playing field, let's look at who's on the roster.
If I were to ask you why you show dogs, no matter who you are your answer would probably be layered and complex. Certainly, we all love our dogs and like spending time with them, but realistically we can do that in any number of venues. But for the sake of simplicity, let's look at some broad groups. In my experience, dog folks fall into a handful of general categories with some loosely defined motivators. Owner-handlers, for example, often compete based on their ability to select a dog, train it, groom it and present it. In the case of handlers, it is literally their job to win. And then there are breeders--the toughest nuts to crack, in my estimation. Breeders aren't just competing with a single dog, they are also showcasing their interpretation and application of the breed standard and supporting/growing their kennel's long-term reputation. In all of these cases, personal, emotional and financial investments are high.
And that brings us to the fundamental question we must answer if we are to understand winning and losing: Who is competing? One of the great myths of the dog world is that the dogs are competing (it's right up there with the continuing idea that modern dog shows exist to evaluate breeding stock). News flash: The dogs didn't enter themselves at the dog show. They'd be happier laying on the couch at home. At the end of the day, our dogs are not competing...we are. Our dogs are merely being evaluated and they don't give a sweet fig who the judge chooses. You and I entered and "we" are competing. As a result, we are also the ones who frame the narrative of everything that happens at the dog show.
Tangled Web of Words
A decade or more ago I had cause to think closely about the subtleties of language in the dog world when I had the pleasure of writing an article for Dogs in Review about the difference between success and influence (you can read the full article here, if you're so inclined). Examining the different meanings we assign to these two fundamental concepts in our sport was an interesting exercise and as I pondered the idea of winning versus losing today I was reminded of my ultimate conclusion in that case:
"The subtleties of meaning or areas where emphasis is placed can have a profound impact on not only how we communicate but how we act...What we say and what we mean are unilaterally tied to how we understand one another and our sport."
And thus I come full circle back to the title of this post. Not winning is not the same as losing.
As a concept, losing implies loss. Something you once had that is now gone. Or perhaps in this case, something you have a right to rather than something you have a right to try for. As a verb, losing describes an action we have some power over. We lose face when we are embarassed, lose our cool or lose our head when we're angry, we lose count, lose ground, lose money or lose our lunch (okay, well we don't always have control over that!). We don't lose a win at a dog show, however. We can't -- it was never ours to begin with.
Yes, there are times when we don't win and probably should have (in our estimation, anyway), but there will also be times when we do and likely shouldn't have. That's the way it goes -- even the most successful exhibitors would agree that the majority of the time you win some and you lose more. We don't have to agree with the choices made (we don't own the pointy finger), but if we want to be happy in our choice to continue competing and if we want to attract more people to our sport, we collectively need to change the narrative around what winning and not winning looks like.
That's not to say you can't or shouldn't be disappointed, of course. You can also justifiably be upset if something happens to prevent your dog from being evaluated to its fullest potential. I am personally very hard on myself if my dogs don't show to their best advantage, particularly if it's because of my lack of training or preparing them (something within my own control). But if all things went reasonably well and the judge doesn't point your way, my advice is to flip the same old story on its head and point out to yourself that you didn't lose, you just didn't win...and that's okay.
Who's Competing and Why?
Now that we understand the playing field, let's look at who's on the roster.
If I were to ask you why you show dogs, no matter who you are your answer would probably be layered and complex. Certainly, we all love our dogs and like spending time with them, but realistically we can do that in any number of venues. But for the sake of simplicity, let's look at some broad groups. In my experience, dog folks fall into a handful of general categories with some loosely defined motivators. Owner-handlers, for example, often compete based on their ability to select a dog, train it, groom it and present it. In the case of handlers, it is literally their job to win. And then there are breeders--the toughest nuts to crack, in my estimation. Breeders aren't just competing with a single dog, they are also showcasing their interpretation and application of the breed standard and supporting/growing their kennel's long-term reputation. In all of these cases, personal, emotional and financial investments are high.
And that brings us to the fundamental question we must answer if we are to understand winning and losing: Who is competing? One of the great myths of the dog world is that the dogs are competing (it's right up there with the continuing idea that modern dog shows exist to evaluate breeding stock). News flash: The dogs didn't enter themselves at the dog show. They'd be happier laying on the couch at home. At the end of the day, our dogs are not competing...we are. Our dogs are merely being evaluated and they don't give a sweet fig who the judge chooses. You and I entered and "we" are competing. As a result, we are also the ones who frame the narrative of everything that happens at the dog show.
Tangled Web of Words
A decade or more ago I had cause to think closely about the subtleties of language in the dog world when I had the pleasure of writing an article for Dogs in Review about the difference between success and influence (you can read the full article here, if you're so inclined). Examining the different meanings we assign to these two fundamental concepts in our sport was an interesting exercise and as I pondered the idea of winning versus losing today I was reminded of my ultimate conclusion in that case:
"The subtleties of meaning or areas where emphasis is placed can have a profound impact on not only how we communicate but how we act...What we say and what we mean are unilaterally tied to how we understand one another and our sport."
And thus I come full circle back to the title of this post. Not winning is not the same as losing.
As a concept, losing implies loss. Something you once had that is now gone. Or perhaps in this case, something you have a right to rather than something you have a right to try for. As a verb, losing describes an action we have some power over. We lose face when we are embarassed, lose our cool or lose our head when we're angry, we lose count, lose ground, lose money or lose our lunch (okay, well we don't always have control over that!). We don't lose a win at a dog show, however. We can't -- it was never ours to begin with.
Yes, there are times when we don't win and probably should have (in our estimation, anyway), but there will also be times when we do and likely shouldn't have. That's the way it goes -- even the most successful exhibitors would agree that the majority of the time you win some and you lose more. We don't have to agree with the choices made (we don't own the pointy finger), but if we want to be happy in our choice to continue competing and if we want to attract more people to our sport, we collectively need to change the narrative around what winning and not winning looks like.
That's not to say you can't or shouldn't be disappointed, of course. You can also justifiably be upset if something happens to prevent your dog from being evaluated to its fullest potential. I am personally very hard on myself if my dogs don't show to their best advantage, particularly if it's because of my lack of training or preparing them (something within my own control). But if all things went reasonably well and the judge doesn't point your way, my advice is to flip the same old story on its head and point out to yourself that you didn't lose, you just didn't win...and that's okay.
Winning Is A Losing Concept
Now, you're probably thinking at this point that I'm some kind of a granola-crunching, kumbaya-singing hippy with unrealistic expectations of human nature and a holier-than-thou attitude. I do like to sing, it's true, but I'm hardly holding myself up as an example of competitive perfection. Remember the title of this blog? I'm a breeder on the edge, so consider this more of a backstage pass to the aspirational discussions I have with myself as I try to become a better competitor and person.
The simple truth is that I have some pretty selfish reasons for wanting the dog world to be a kinder place. My breed is in trouble and we need more fanciers. We won't attract them if we can't make the sport more positive.
I read an article this week about the concept of competition in the business world that summed up my thoughts in this area. The author said the following:
"The concept of winning requires someone else to lose...Losing is not a concept that works well in business...Winning in business should be about creating nothing but winners, because even if both you and your competitors grow, this means that you are growing the total pie." (Wim Rampen)
That is reality in the dog world as well.
I hear exhibitors scorn the idea of giving everyone a ribbon; personally, I think it's a great idea. People who have early success -- or who FEEL like they have had early success -- will continue to show dogs. People who feel like they are constantly losing will soon give up. Coming from a breed with too few breeders and exhibitors, I genuinely want my competitors to do well and thrive. I hope all Toy Manchester owners and breeders go out there and win, win, win because our little tiny pie (tart?) definitely needs to grow.
So, with that in mind, let's all think about ways to re-frame our competitive story. The words we use are a place to start, even if it's just in conversations with ourselves. And finding ways for all competitors (especially new ones) to achieve success will certainly benefit us all.
Hmmm, sounds like a topic for another day...until then, be kind!
Now, you're probably thinking at this point that I'm some kind of a granola-crunching, kumbaya-singing hippy with unrealistic expectations of human nature and a holier-than-thou attitude. I do like to sing, it's true, but I'm hardly holding myself up as an example of competitive perfection. Remember the title of this blog? I'm a breeder on the edge, so consider this more of a backstage pass to the aspirational discussions I have with myself as I try to become a better competitor and person.
The simple truth is that I have some pretty selfish reasons for wanting the dog world to be a kinder place. My breed is in trouble and we need more fanciers. We won't attract them if we can't make the sport more positive.
I read an article this week about the concept of competition in the business world that summed up my thoughts in this area. The author said the following:
"The concept of winning requires someone else to lose...Losing is not a concept that works well in business...Winning in business should be about creating nothing but winners, because even if both you and your competitors grow, this means that you are growing the total pie." (Wim Rampen)
That is reality in the dog world as well.
I hear exhibitors scorn the idea of giving everyone a ribbon; personally, I think it's a great idea. People who have early success -- or who FEEL like they have had early success -- will continue to show dogs. People who feel like they are constantly losing will soon give up. Coming from a breed with too few breeders and exhibitors, I genuinely want my competitors to do well and thrive. I hope all Toy Manchester owners and breeders go out there and win, win, win because our little tiny pie (tart?) definitely needs to grow.
So, with that in mind, let's all think about ways to re-frame our competitive story. The words we use are a place to start, even if it's just in conversations with ourselves. And finding ways for all competitors (especially new ones) to achieve success will certainly benefit us all.
Hmmm, sounds like a topic for another day...until then, be kind!