Deciphering Dominance: What the Word Really Means for Our Dogs

Few words cause as much trouble in the dog world as 'dominance'. Mention it in the wrong group and you can watch the comments section catch fire in real time, which is quite something for a term that sits quietly in animal behaviour textbooks without upsetting anyone at all. Over this series I want to pick through what dominance actually means, whether it exists in dogs, whether it has any relevance to the ones currently asleep on our sofas, and how it became such a loaded word in the first place. Some questions will get answers, some won't, and I'll fill in the blanks where the science runs out.

Dominance: What a controversy

Much of the heat comes from celebrity trainers at either end of the argument, each insisting on their version with enormous confidence. Strong opinions sell books, and I say that as someone who has written one, but extreme positions on either side tend to involve picking the facts that fit and quietly leaving the rest on the shelf. Debates like this always flare up where the evidence is thin, because wherever there's a bit of wiggle room, assertion steps in with a very loud voice. The fuller picture usually lives in university textbooks and ethology papers, which is a shame, because it's far more interesting and a good deal less dramatic than either camp would have you believe. Dominance sits somewhere in the middle, and once you understand the dominance–submission dynamic properly, it can change the way you see your everyday life with your dogs.

What is dominance?

Whatever you may have read online, dominance exists, although it looks very little like the version made famous on television. In ethology, the biological study of animal behaviour, dominance is a long-established and entirely uncontroversial term, applied to thousands of species on land, in the air and under the sea. One simplified textbook definition describes it as a superior position in a rank, order or social hierarchy, where an individual to whom another consistently gives way is said to be dominant in that relationship, and the other subordinate. It describes a relationship between two individuals in a given context, so it tells you nothing about what type of animal or personality you're dealing with.

In nature it has surprisingly little to do with bullying. Dominance is an evolutionary adaptation that reduces conflict in social species, and it works partly through hormonal feedback after everyday interactions. When one dog wins the comfortable spot by the fire, his testosterone rises and he's more likely to claim it again next time, while the dog who decided it wasn't worth the bother becomes less inclined to contest that particular resource with that particular dog. The result is less fighting and a clearer sense of who cares about what, and the same pair may well swap roles in a different context entirely.

Being in charge comes at a cost too, since dominant individuals tend to carry higher stress loads and burn more calories than their subordinates. It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it. In well-fulfilled animals the whole thing is fluid and almost invisible to us, a quiet interplay of posture, expression, scent and hormones. Add deprivation or stress and the displays become far more overt, because where stress rises, conflict arises. David Mech's comparison of captive and free-living wolves shows this beautifully, and for the record, Mech never claimed that wolves don't experience dominance. In 2010 he described it as 'one of the most pervasive and important behaviours among wolves in a pack'.

It's complicated

Plenty of things influence who gives way to whom. Size plays its part, because bigger, stronger individuals have greater resource holding potential, tend to win more often and, thanks to the hormonal feedback that follows, can end up building yet more muscle. Personal value matters as well. My address book is worth far more to me than it is to you, so I'd put up a much better fight to keep it than you would to take it, and dogs make the same calculations about beds, bones and doorways. Home ground adds another layer, since animals feel more confident and invested on familiar territory than any newcomer does.

Put together, dominance occurs in social species rather than solitary ones, it appears where interactions have consistent winners and losers, it's usually settled through non-violent displays rather than fighting, and it centres on the resources that matter most, namely territory and movement, food, and reproduction and social access. Where it exists there's some form of hierarchy, and those range from very rigid to loose and changeable. Being dominant is about making the decisions rather than hoarding everything, and it's in the dominant individual's interest to keep the whole group well, because everyone's survival depends on it.

Not every animal fits this picture. Leopards are solitary carnivores, so dominance has no relevance to them at all. Lions are intensely social and can be ferociously aggressive, yet female lions live in remarkably egalitarian prides, while meerkats sit at the opposite end, with one dominant member and everyone else equally subordinate. Aggression and hierarchy are separate things, and you can find either without the other. Domestic dogs sit somewhere in the more tolerant middle, where the main benefit of a hierarchy is peace, order and the ability to share resources without constant squabbling, and every member plays their part.

Some questions answered

First, to clear the decks: dominance and the use of pain or fear in training are two entirely separate concepts. Somewhere along the line they got tangled together, and that piece of human error has probably done more harm to more dogs than anything else in this whole debate. With that set aside, here's what we know, what we don't, and where a bit of intuition has to fill the gap.

Do dogs have a social structure? Yes. A 2015 study by van der Borg and colleagues looked at exactly this and found a tolerant style of hierarchy, fairly but not extremely hierarchical, much like many wild canids. The clearest indicators of dominance were a muzzle grab (a gentle hold of the other dog's muzzle) and high posture. Submission showed most reliably as a full body and tail wag, passing under the other dog's head, and licking the mouth of the more dominant dog. That last one fascinates me when I think about how many dogs cover their owners' faces in kisses, or wag from the shoulders back when we walk through the door.

Do mixed dog and human households have a social structure? This hasn't been studied, so we don't know. I'd be surprised if the answer were anything other than yes, given the strength of the bond, the separation distress on both sides, and the fact that we control access to every critical resource in our dogs' lives. In happy, settled dogs we see all the voluntary markers of submission, and when stress rises and structure is lacking, we tend to see guarding of places, food and people instead.

Can you control your dog's behaviour by setting out to forcefully dominate him? There's no evidence whatsoever that an animal can be forced into submission. In nature, deference is freely given to individuals who are calm, consistent and make decisions that benefit the group, and stress levels fall when dogs are given direction. Pain and intimidation won't win you rank, although they will very efficiently destroy trust.

Time for a rebrand

If you close the front door so your dog can't wander into the road, decide when and where the walk happens, open the pack of meat at teatime and choose where he sleeps, you're controlling access to territory, movement, food and rest, which are exactly the resources dominance revolves around. Reproduction is, one hopes, also firmly in your hands. That makes you about as dominant over your dog as it's possible to be, and you've very likely managed it without once raising your voice.

Dogs rely on this arrangement. They take comfort from clear boundaries and can relax because someone else is making the stressful decisions, and when your dog greets you with a full body wag and a face full of kisses, there's a fair chance you're accepting deference that's been freely offered. Structure comes through quietly in calm, decisive handling, sensible food, a good bed, the right exercise and play, and putting a lid on the excitement when it's getting out of hand. It doesn't need bullying, intimidation or forceful handling, and adding them gains you nothing.

When a dog does show overt dominance behaviour, it's usually a sign of stress and often insecurity, a dog trying to make order out of chaos for himself and the family around him. Our job is to take that burden off him, using our big brains and opposable thumbs to give him a structured, healthy and natural social life. Over the years the word has picked up a side order of hitting, kicking, choke chains and shock collars, none of which belongs to it. Seen in its natural light, dominance is a beautiful, largely invisible dance of body shape, hormones, compromise and boundary-finding that gives us common ground and a shared sense of family. It deserves a better reputation.

I go into the dominance–submission dynamic in more depth in The Balanced Dog, available on Amazon UK.

Julia Langlands, Canine Behaviour Specialist (ACFBA) | Balance Behaviour. Expert holistic behaviour advice, complex cases, second opinions, insurance claims accepted. Call or message 07920 464120.