“You’re really training me more than the dog.” She smiles. Or is it a smirk?
I’ve watched this realization dawning on clients for over twenty-five years now. Early on I’d shrug it off, maybe laugh with them. Now, I celebrate it. Of course, I’m teaching you. This is a two-species process. How cool is that?
We humans have gathered to learn from each other since the days of shamans drawing on the walls of fire-lit caves. Oh, to be in that room. I don’t really think we have changed very much over the millennia, but our environment surely has.
So much learning these days is “virtual.” The room is digital. We trainers aren’t sharing space with our clients; we aren’t touching their dogs (or avoiding getting bitten by them). We don’t need to, or so we think.
And now here comes a new teacher, a friendly trainer. Artificial intelligence will help you with your dog 24/7 for free. Your dog-shaman is in your bedroom at 1 a.m. ready in the glow of your phone.
Woofz, a training and pet care app, surveyed two thousand U.S. pet owners in 2025. Of the respondents, 39% said they would use AI to train their dogs, and 21% said they had already turned to ChatGPT for pet care advice. These numbers might startle you, but they shouldn’t be surprising. Pew Research reports 44% of us use AI in our everyday lives. I’m in that group. You might be too.
Does this mean AI is going to replace in-person dog trainers? I don’t know. Are people getting solid information about dog behavior and training before they even think of calling a trainer? Yeah, I think that’s a pretty safe assumption.
I tested three artificial intelligence platforms, giving each five different dog training scenarios. In each, I pretended to be a regular dog guardian. One scenario was an adult maltipoo peeing in the house. There was the case of the fence fighter, the beagle who wouldn’t come when called, and the biting puppy. Finally, I presented an emotional complaint about a dog who was threatening guests in the home.
Don’t worry. I won’t bore you with all the results. In summary, artificial intelligence understands positive reinforcement training and the essentials of behavior change.
What did artificial intelligence get right? Almost everything. From potty training all the way to the dog threatening guests, AI gave good environmental management and behavior change advice. Artificial intelligence also asked follow-up questions in many scenarios and refined and personalized its suggestions. AI appropriately recommended I find a qualified professional for the dog being aggressive toward guests, specifically mentioning veterinary behaviorists and CAAB, CDBC, and CPDT certifications.
It was almost human. And that felt a little creepy.
Japanese roboticist Masahiro Mori coined the term uncanny valley in the 1970s. Realistic animation and CGI images of humans that look real, but not quite real enough, make us feel uncomfortable and fearful. I think AI does that too. We could call it the digital uncanny valley.
And that’s what AI gets wrong. It’s not human. When we confuse it with being human, it feels like something is wrong. Artificial intelligence appears kind and helpful, and disquieting at the same time.
The other problem with AI dog training is that none of its information is original. AI detects patterns and synthesizes well, but it doesn’t have wholly original thoughts yet. The scenarios I ran produced solid recommendations created by humans, human trainers, some of whom we know. One AI recommendation referenced Leslie McDevitt’s Look-at-That (without referencing Leslie McDevitt). Others suggested treat and retreat alongside equally familiar techniques I might put into a training plan. I challenged AI on this observation in a separate query. Its response was honest and cold in equal measure.
There is an irony here for trainers. Much of the AI advice sounds familiar because it is familiar. The language, concepts, and protocols echo what behavior professionals have taught at conferences and published online for decades. The profession’s willingness to share information may have helped create an unusually rich body of humane dog-training knowledge for AI to synthesize. Now that same technology can deliver much of that knowledge directly to consumers, instantly and at little or no cost.
The philosopher and theologian Martin Buber wrote about the uniquely human I-Thou relationship. Two people in mutual contact encountering the present moment. He called it sacred.
Twentieth-century psychologist Carl Rogers built on the I-Thou relationship when he wrote about client-centered therapy and student-centered learning. He taught us what many of us take for granted now. Sharing space with another person can be healing and can facilitate learning. Being in the room matters.
Those of us who offer online behavior consulting and training tell clients we don’t have to be in the same room to be helpful; we don’t have to touch their dogs. It was true during the pandemic. It must still be true now. I can help you no matter where each of us is.
Meanwhile, artificial intelligence platforms are raising their little pixelated hands, saying, “Me too.”
What then are we human trainers to do? Bill Gates posted a nearly six thousand word warning about the future of AI. He suggested governance that marks some professions as “human reserved,” caregivers mostly, the ones requiring real human connection. I doubt dog trainers and behavior consultants will fall into that protected category, if it ever exists. I’m also not saying we should throw up our hands and surrender to artificial intelligence.
Carl Rogers calls us to prize our clients. It’s a funny verb, but I like it. He teaches us to open our minds and our hearts to the people we are helping with unconditional positive regard. Draw from our deep well of empathy. Be genuinely and fully human. And show up. Being there for each other helps. Rogers would say it’s all that matters.
Artificial intelligence mimics human emotions. It can speak empathetically. But it can’t feel empathy. It can offer advice. But it has no life experience. AI can inspire ideas and feelings in us. Just remember, there is no shared humanity. It’s not human.
So much has changed since we huddled under the cave drawings in the fire’s glow. So much has changed in the last couple of years. But we remain who we are: beautifully human. And dog trainers know a little something about changing environments, don’t we?
My advice to fellow trainers:
Lean into that knowledge, dear friends. It is our strength.
Lean deeply into your humanity. It is your unique advantage.
See the person in front of you, your client and their dog. Prize them. Listen and smile.
“You’re really training me more than the dog.” Yes. Exactly! You are the reason I’m here. You’re why I get up in the morning. I love your dog. But you! You’re the one I love to teach.