It’s a well-established fact that animals learn by modeling their behaviors on those of others. But as any parent knows, children don’t automatically mimic what Dad, Mom, Sis, or some other person does. Instead, even infants make use of a mental phenomenon known as selective imitation. As it turns out, so do our dogs.
How do we know this? Luckily for those of us who are fascinated by animal mental processes (a.k.a. thinking for those who accept that animals are capable of thought), researchers Friederike Range and Ludwig Huber of the University of Vienna and their colleagues designed a fascinating set of experiments to determine if dogs also engage in selective imitation. To do this, they used a container of food that could be opened when a rod connected to its lid was pulled. First, they taught a dog to open the can using her paw. This was important because dogs normally would use their teeth to manipulate an object the size of the rod. When a group of dogs who had never seen the set-up were then allowed to observe her opening the can with her paw and eating the food, they imitated her behavior. A simple case proving “Monkey see, monkey do” learning. What’s so selective about that?
Nothing, but that was only part of the experiment. When the canine model/teacher carried a ball in her mouth when she opened the container with her paw, the other dogs did not mimic her behavior. Instead, they used their mouths. It was only when she was free to use her mouth, but didn’t, that they did what she was doing.
So what’s going on here? Whether you believe that dogs (and even the youngest children) are capable of conscious thought and choice, or that the application of the fundamental priority to get the job done using the least amount of energy results in some very sophisticated behaviors in even the lowest life-forms, obviously the student dogs were not driven to mimic the model/teacher by some force beyond their control. On numerous occasions I’ve written (ranted, nagged) about the need to analyze any behavior in the context in which it occurs. And this experiment makes a strong case for such analysis being a routine, possibly to the point of automatic, function in dogs, too.
So, for example, the dogs observe another dog getting food by using her paw in a certain way even though she’s free to use what they would consider the normal means, i.e., her teeth. Because she does succeed in getting the food, they decide to take advantage of what she’s already learned and get their own food, rather than wasting energy trying the more familiar teeth-method, possibly failing, and then doing it her way anyway.
On the other hand, when the teaching dog has a ball in her mouth, the much more deeply rooted inclination to use the teeth for such projects is easier to justify: She could be using her paw, not because it was more energy-efficient, but simply because she can’t use her mouth. Under those circumstances, it could require more energy on their parts to gain the food using her method than their own. Rather than take that risk, they opt for what they know from experience works for them.
When I read about this study, I immediately thought of how this affects companion dog behavior and particularly the resolution of problem canine behaviors. No doubt both my clients and my students are sick of hearing about how we can’t expect our dogs to demonstrate patience, self-control, and consistency (reliability) if our own behaviors don’t communicate those behaviors. True, we might luck out if the dog has another dog in the household who can perform this teaching function for us. But as more than a few owners of pets with serious problems know, the day that other dog isn’t around to fill the teaching void the owner didn’t want to, all hell can break loose. Similarly, expecting the canine population of the average daycare center or dog park to consist only of perfectly behaved canines who will function as role models par excellence is a nice dream, but…
But even if it were true, that dogs are capable of practicing selective mimicry tells us that this might not be enough. That even when we or another animal displays what we consider the perfect behavior for our dogs to mimic, they may not. Then what?
Well, at that point we have to settle for what is rather than what we want for ourselves and our pets and make the most of it. But this doesn’t mean that we can’t stack the decks in our favor. And the desire to do that takes us back to energy-efficiency again. Recall the starting point: displaying the behavior that makes the most sense, i.e., uses the least amount of energy in that particular context. At the risk of precipitating a raft of indignant email, the majority of the methods being used in puppy and other training classes are extremely energy-inefficient relative to canine learning, but very energy-efficient relevant to how we humans like to teach dogs. By that I mean that, these methods require out-of-context learning on the dog’s part, a form of learning that is alien to animal brain development.
It’s also alien to human brain development but in the case of classes, these methods have been given a context by society. That context may be something so vague as “This is what responsible dog owners do” to something more concrete such as “I want my dog to obey me” or even “I enjoy getting together with other dog people.”
Consequently, in order for dogs to learn in these environments, they first have to put what they’re being asked in some context that makes sense to them. The human hope is that the context will be “to please me,” “to get a treat,” or “to avoid punishment.” And enough dogs are willing to accept this abstract context to perpetuate the system. However, and especially if the animals are stressed in that environment, adding this extra, unnatural step to the learning process is beyond them. Instead, they revert to their natural learning process, selective mimicry. In that case, if the owner is confident, patient, and consistent and/or the other dogs in the class behave similarly, then a mildly to moderately stressed dog will mimic what they do. On the other hand, if these others are not, then those dogs—like all highly stressed ones—will display the behavior that seems the most appropriate/energy-efficient in that context. That may mean trying to get out of that room ASAP, trying to bite any dog or person who gets too close, or other, to us, inappropriate displays.
What it boils down to is that the awareness that dogs are capable of selective mimicry serves as a wonderful reminder of the potential cost when we tell ourselves we’re too tired or rushed to communicate patience, self-control, and all those other good qualities dogs need to learn to be well-behaved. True, they might opt to display those characteristics even though we didn’t. But having learned that we’re not a reliable source of energy-efficient input that makes sense to them under the best of circumstances, can we really expect them to take their cues from us under the worst when their well-being as well as our own might depend on it?
It’s a well-established fact that animals learn by modeling their behaviors on those of others. But as any parent knows, children don’t automatically mimic what Dad, Mom, Sis, or some other person does. Instead, even infants make use of a mental phenomenon known as selective imitation. As it turns out, so do our dogs.
How do we know this? Luckily for those of us who are fascinated by animal mental processes (a.k.a. thinking for those who accept that animals are capable of thought), researchers Friederike Range and Ludwig Huber of the University of Vienna and their colleagues designed a fascinating set of experiments to determine if dogs also engage in selective imitation. To do this, they used a container of food that could be opened when a rod connected to its lid was pulled. First, they taught a dog to open the can using her paw. This was important because dogs normally would use their teeth to manipulate an object the size of the rod. When a group of dogs who had never seen the set-up were then allowed to observe her opening the can with her paw and eating the food, they imitated her behavior. A simple case proving “Monkey see, monkey do” learning. What’s so selective about that?
Nothing, but that was only part of the experiment. When the canine model/teacher carried a ball in her mouth when she opened the container with her paw, the other dogs did not mimic her behavior. Instead, they used their mouths. It was only when she was free to use her mouth, but didn’t, that they did what she was doing.
So what’s going on here? Whether you believe that dogs (and even the youngest children) are capable of conscious thought and choice, or that the application of the fundamental priority to get the job done using the least amount of energy results in some very sophisticated behaviors in even the lowest life-forms, obviously the student dogs were not driven to mimic the model/teacher by some force beyond their control. On numerous occasions I’ve written (ranted, nagged) about the need to analyze any behavior in the context in which it occurs. And this experiment makes a strong case for such analysis being a routine, possibly to the point of automatic, function in dogs, too.
So, for example, the dogs observe another dog getting food by using her paw in a certain way even though she’s free to use what they would consider the normal means, i.e., her teeth. Because she does succeed in getting the food, they decide to take advantage of what she’s already learned and get their own food, rather than wasting energy trying the more familiar teeth-method, possibly failing, and then doing it her way anyway.
On the other hand, when the teaching dog has a ball in her mouth, the much more deeply rooted inclination to use the teeth for such projects is easier to justify: She could be using her paw, not because it was more energy-efficient, but simply because she can’t use her mouth. Under those circumstances, it could require more energy on their parts to gain the food using her method than their own. Rather than take that risk, they opt for what they know from experience works for them.
When I read about this study, I immediately thought of how this affects companion dog behavior and particularly the resolution of problem canine behaviors. No doubt both my clients and my students are sick of hearing about how we can’t expect our dogs to demonstrate patience, self-control, and consistency (reliability) if our own behaviors don’t communicate those behaviors. True, we might luck out if the dog has another dog in the household who can perform this teaching function for us. But as more than a few owners of pets with serious problems know, the day that other dog isn’t around to fill the teaching void the owner didn’t want to, all hell can break loose. Similarly, expecting the canine population of the average daycare center or dog park to consist only of perfectly behaved canines who will function as role models par excellence is a nice dream, but…
But even if it were true, that dogs are capable of practicing selective mimicry tells us that this might not be enough. That even when we or another animal displays what we consider the perfect behavior for our dogs to mimic, they may not. Then what?
Well, at that point we have to settle for what is rather than what we want for ourselves and our pets and make the most of it. But this doesn’t mean that we can’t stack the decks in our favor. And the desire to do that takes us back to energy-efficiency again. Recall the starting point: displaying the behavior that makes the most sense, i.e., uses the least amount of energy in that particular context. At the risk of precipitating a raft of indignant email, the majority of the methods being used in puppy and other training classes are extremely energy-inefficient relative to canine learning, but very energy-efficient relevant to how we humans like to teach dogs. By that I mean that, these methods require out-of-context learning on the dog’s part, a form of learning that is alien to animal brain development.
It’s also alien to human brain development but in the case of classes, these methods have been given a context by society. That context may be something so vague as “This is what responsible dog owners do” to something more concrete such as “I want my dog to obey me” or even “I enjoy getting together with other dog people.”
Consequently, in order for dogs to learn in these environments, they first have to put what they’re being asked in some context that makes sense to them. The human hope is that the context will be “to please me,” “to get a treat,” or “to avoid punishment.” And enough dogs are willing to accept this abstract context to perpetuate the system. However, and especially if the animals are stressed in that environment, adding this extra, unnatural step to the learning process is beyond them. Instead, they revert to their natural learning process, selective mimicry. In that case, if the owner is confident, patient, and consistent and/or the other dogs in the class behave similarly, then a mildly to moderately stressed dog will mimic what they do. On the other hand, if these others are not, then those dogs—like all highly stressed ones—will display the behavior that seems the most appropriate/energy-efficient in that context. That may mean trying to get out of that room ASAP, trying to bite any dog or person who gets too close, or other, to us, inappropriate displays.
What it boils down to is that the awareness that dogs are capable of selective mimicry serves as a wonderful reminder of the potential cost when we tell ourselves we’re too tired or rushed to communicate patience, self-control, and all those other good qualities dogs need to learn to be well-behaved. True, they might opt to display those characteristics even though we didn’t. But having learned that we’re not a reliable source of energy-efficient input that makes sense to them under the best of circumstances, can we really expect them to take their cues from us under the worst when their well-being as well as our own might depend on it?