Cargo Cults, Stock Dogs & You
- jordanmarkowski88
- 7 days ago
- 10 min read
How Misunderstanding Cause & Effect Holds Some Aspiring Herding Enthusiasts Back

80+ Years Ago, World War II Plunged the globe Into Chaos
For 6 years bitter fighting on a global scale impacted almost every corner of civilization.
Even in the far reaches of the Pacific Ocean, far away from Berlin or Moscow or the English Channel, the battle between the Axis and Allied powers left an unmistakable mark on the remote islands and indigenous peoples that had been there for hundreds and thousands of years. In pursuit of victory, both sides built scores of airstrips, supply depots and fortified communication hubs to outmaneuver the other. Dotted strategically across the vast Pacific like stars in the night sky.
To the indigenous populations of many of these islands, this brought huge disruption but also almost unimaginable bounties.
As if seemingly from nowhere, giant ships and aircraft would arrive on their islands and deposit scores of strange looking visitors in uniforms who would go on to construct unfathomable structures. Alongside them would also come seemingly limitless amounts of goods: delicious food and drinks, powerful medicine, useful equipment and a lot more. Sometimes, the visitors would gift or trade these items to the locals -- or just outright leave them when transporting them on to the latest front line of the struggle was deemed inefficient.
But the "good times" wouldn't last.
The war in the Pacific officially ended in September of 1945, and not long afterward the Axis and Allied powers began to abandon many of their island outposts. Almost as suddenly as they had appeared, the planes and boats and the seemingly magical goods that had come with them stopped showing up. To the people who called these islands home, the disappearance of their benefactors left them wondering why they had vanished and when, if ever, they would return.
So they got creative.

What The Heck Are 'Cargo Cults'?
In the hopes of triggering fresh arrivals of goods and equipment, some islanders began trying to recreate the conditions they had seen precede the arrival of the planes and boats that had brought them.
They began constructing imitation barracks, hangars, planes and control towers out of wood.
Some fashioned makeshift goggles, headphones and flags out of local materials.
Some even would conduct their best estimation of the military drills and flag raisings they had observed.
Others would clear stretches of jungle to create new "airfields" .
These beliefs and practices would take many different forms across different islands and distinct cultures, but typically constituted a loose pattern of religions and beliefs that collectively came to be known as "Cargo Cults".

Ignorance, Not Idiocy
What's important to appreciate is that Cargo Cults weren't the product of stupidity -- just culturally grounded attempts from otherwise rational people to interpret something beyond their knowledge to fully comprehend at the time.
On its face, what they were doing had logic to it: the strange visitors that had come to their homes had done many things that looked just like what they were imitating (like marching in uniformed formation), and the cargo had come... so why shouldn't, in theory, recreating those behaviours produce the same outcome?
Of course we know, sitting at our computers reading a blog post like this, that what these islanders were really doing was just recreating the appearance of actions without understanding their intent, their function or their true context. Goods didn't arrive on their shores because Japanese and US forces built buildings and raised flags, but because they were engaged in a global conflict. Those actions were the byproduct, not the cause, of that reality.
In short, the indigenous people who formed and participated in cargo cult activities knew they effect they wanted, but misinterpreted the cause (and means to create) that effect.
It's why today, even though the term "Cargo Cult" has fallen out of favour a bit in anthropology more broadly... it's still an effective shorthand when talking about how, sometimes, folks can take seemingly logical, but ultimately misguided, approaches to effecting an outcome without really understanding that outcome super well.
Which maybe has you wondering: why the hell am I spending so much time talking about some anthropological phenomenon from history on my herding dog blog?
Well, it's because I think...

It's Easy To Get Caught Up in Cargo Cult Stock Dog Training
First, the non-controversial (I think) part: teaching someone how to handle, let alone train, a fully realized stock dog is an enormously difficult thing to do. There is so much going on not just between a dog and their handler, but also between:
The dog and its stock.
The stock and the handler.
Hell, even the venue/area you're working in and the stock and/or dog.
The way I look at it, there is an interconnected web of pressure between all these different entities -- every one of them exerts and releases pressure to some degree, and the amount of pressure and release they communicate is dynamic. A good trainer can throttle their pressure on their dog up and down as the situation calls for, while a well trained dog can exert more or less pressure on its stock when needed (or when asked). But by the same token your stock might exert more pressure back on the dog in a tight space (like a trailer or a chute) than they might in a wide open field or when they have a lamb or calf to protect. It's a dance and every participant has a role to play.
In that way, I see working stock with a dog like being in the midst of a gravity field where every movement from every object and living thing in that field sends ripples and fluctuations that all collide, interact and bounce off each other. Sometimes that is called by some "stock sense" but I think that term falls short because, to me, herding is about more than just sense of livestock and how they respond/move off of pressure but rather also entails how all the elements of the puzzle (dog, handler, stock and physical space/objects in it) constantly interact.
Now, fortunately most of us start out with dogs that are bred to innately see this invisible network of pressure and to have desire to act upon, and react to, it in some fashion. But we humans don't tend to come with that instinct (we haven't been selected over hundreds/thousands of years for it) and have to learn it. Something that's especially problematic when we're the ones supposed to be guiding our dogs to understand how to appropriately interact with it and we're not really sure what's going on ourselves. Like trying to get someone to cut the red wire on a bomb when we're colourblind and have no idea what red even looks like, and nothing to compare it to, to begin with.
Which brings us to the controversial part:
Sometimes, especially when we're just starting out with handling and/or training stock dogs, we have an idea in our head of what we ultimately want our dog to do (flank/walk up/lie down when I say) long before we are really fully aware, or fully understand or appreciate, the fabric of pressure and release that is being pushed and pulled between all the animals involved at any given time. In short, we might understand what we want to occur (and might even be able to concoct clever ways to get the dog to reenact that behaviour!) but not the why, or the how, of that outcome.
In short, we can get tempted into Cargo Cult methodologies.

Examples of Cargo Cult Training
Recently, I've seen (and sometimes participated in) more than a few discussions about various philosophies/approaches to training stock dogs that to me, have ventured into the territory of Cargo Cult mentalities.
Whether it's proponents of using shock collars to train dogs how to herd where folks have argued that a correction that comes from an invisible force is somehow equally good, or even preferable (more convenient, less personal) than a handler learning how to read and exert calibrated pressure on their dog using body language/tone etc. As if it makes no difference to a dog whether a correction comes within the context of the pressure and release that is the fundamental language of how they understand and navigate working stock (the gravity field they can see and feel), or if comes via a device strapped around their neck that can vibrate or zap them as if "from god". As if a stop is just a stop, and it's not the mechanism by which a dog learns to (and why it should) stop for its handler, let alone the context it learns to stop within, that matters only that it does. As if getting to see and interact with the physical pressure of their handler, in the same way they interact with stock, other dogs and every other animal in their life, is not really that important when it comes to how they learn to herd.
I've also seen it in advocates for the 'corner method' wherein dogs are taught early on not to feel and flank off of the bubble of their livestock (in the context of that gravity field mentioned above), but to move from one corner in a rectangular work area to another regardless of what the stock is doing/where its actual bubble might be. As if training a true stock dog is just a matter of getting them broke to go where we tell them to and worrying about where the stock is, how close/far to be from them and other such considerations are solely the realm of the handler and not the dog.
Also, i've seen it in the endorsement of "dry herding" methods which believe that teaching a dog to flank, or outrun, or walk up on inanimate objects at home is a useful or effective alternative when stock is not at hand -- belying a (I would argue, mistaken) belief that if a dog learns these actions, removed from their actual context, where it is not actually interacting with the pressure of stock, it is indeed learning herding simply because what it is doing it looks similar. That is deemed success - and yet when the dog does go to stock the commands and concepts never mean the same (evident plainly in how the dog executes them) as what they should -- though to the untrained eye maybe they appear indistinguishable.
In each of these cases (and there are others to be sure), there is rational thought going on. Each methodology seeks to effect an outcome (a correction, a flank or a response to a command) albeit in ways that don't quite line up with the why and the how of reading and responding to livestock/handler pressure. In that way, they're like the Cargo Cults of old: pursuit of an outcome without grasping the authentic context.

Why Does Any Of This Matter?
None of this is to suggest that one cannot produce a dog that can move livestock and respond to commands trained by one (or more) of these methods. It can be done and I've seen it done. But it is to say that dogs trained by any of these three methods can be spotted readily when at work because the how of their training outs them -- and not, I would argue, for the better.
When stock dogs are trained to be on contact, by a handler that uses their innate language of pressure and release, it is in my mind as clear as night and day between those that are trained via electronic collars, or who are started with corners instead of balance and to feel their stock, or who were taught that a "walk up" simply means go forward toward something and a "flank" means to go in a given direction around it. In each case, even if the resulting dog can reproduce actions that resemble those a properly trained stock dog might do... the difference in how they do it, and the why in the dog's head that has been developed by the trainer and their method, is I would say powerfully apparent.
Where the danger lies is that you can sometimes get by decently well in an arena trial, or in a context where all the dog needs to do to succeed is go where you want it to go and stop when you want it to stop. This can be a powerful affirmation, but tends not to lead to consistent success across different types of stock, at different kinds of trials or especially when it comes to practical non-trial work that requires so much more of a dog than simply doing what it's told.
Nowhere is this more clear than when said dogs are challenging to compete at distances beyond that of an arena or a modest field. Or when terrain and/or stock require dogs to work out of sight or earshot of their handler -- situations when what a dog understands about pressure, release and the gravity field between dog, stock and terrain is all they have to rely on to do their job in the moment. It is in those situations where dogs that have been taught through facsimile or imitation rather than through a fundamental understanding of balance, draws and contact in relation to stock fall apart in my opinion.

What Your Dog Does Matters Less (Arguably) Than Why They Do It There's more I would argue going on when it comes to herding than just what a dog does. Than just how well it listens to commands and how accurately it performs them. Not necessarily in every trial or situation, and indeed you can get by in many regardless, but when it comes to creating true all-around dogs that can truly compete on any field or in any arena, regardless of the stock at hand or whether it can hear or see you effectively. Not everyone is striving to train a dog to fit that criteria, but for those that are really hoping to keep improving themselves and their dogs I would argue that being vigilant and self-critical about falling into cargo cult mentalities and methods is really important. Never settling for imitations or facsimiles, and never taking shortcuts that steer you around learning how to read and feel pressure/release (between all parties involved) for yourself or your dogs. It might take longer, be at times a bit frustrating and/or require more hard days and self reflections than alternatives like shock collars or corners... but the value in doing things the right way (even if they're hard) is that when you come out the other side you'll be able to see, read and negotiate the gravity field of pressure and release between you and your dog, your dog and its stock and everything around both in a way that will set you up for vastly more success (and more diverse success) in the long run. And then, unlike the cargo cults of the Pacific, I'll argue you'll see your ship come in a lot sooner than you think.



I've done dry land herding. I think it has its place in teaching flanks, especially if you don't have access to stock