08/27/2026
When Finding the Problem Becomes the Problem
There is a strange trend developing in horsemanship that I think deserves some careful consideration.
We have more information than ever before. We have access to research, biomechanics, veterinary knowledge, saddle fitting, dentistry, nutrition, behavior, neuroscience, anatomy, rehabilitation, and an endless vocabulary for describing what might be happening inside a horse’s body.
That should be a wonderful thing. But information is not the same thing as understanding.
And understanding the theory of something is not the same thing as being able to recognize it, feel it, influence it, and know whether what you are doing is actually helping.
I increasingly see riders become so committed to the idea that there is something wrong with their horse that every proposed solution simply uncovers another problem.
The horse is crooked, they are told. Then they discover that the crookedness is caused by asymmetry. Then the asymmetry is caused by compensation. Then the compensation is caused by an old injury. Then the injury has created a neurological pattern. Then the neurological pattern means the horse cannot safely be asked to do the exercise.
And suddenly, months or years have gone by and the horse is no further along.
There is always another explanation, another restriction. Anither professional to be called, and it always results in the horse backsliding and being unable to be ridden.
At some point, we have to ask a difficult question:
Are we actually helping the horse, or have we become attached to finding things wrong with the horse?
Having problems can happen, but problems are not the goal.
Horses absolutely have physical limitations. They can have pain, injury, poor conformation, asymmetry, weakness, inadequate strength, poor coordination, inappropriate equipment, dental problems, and countless other genuine issues.
Ignoring those things is not good horsemanship.
But recognizing a limitation should lead us toward a better question:
What can I do about it?
If the answer is always, “Nothing, because this horse has X,” then we aren’t really training anymore. We are diagnosing, and many people can become addicted to diagnosing as opposed to creating true soundness.
And diagnosis without a path forward can become a remarkably sophisticated form of helplessness.
A horse doesn’t need us to find every imperfection in his body. He needs us to help him function better within the body he actually has. The vocabulary can become a substitute for feel.
One of the problems with learning primarily through theory is that theory can give us the illusion that we understand something long before we actually do.
You can learn what “thoracic sling,” “compensation,” “rotation,” “lateral flexion,” “asymmetry,” or “proprioception” means. You can learn to recognize the words people use to describe movement. You can watch endless videos explaining biomechanics.
You can even become very good at explaining these concepts to other people. But none of that automatically teaches you how a horse feels underneath you. It doesn’t necessarily teach you when a horse is genuinely restricted versus simply inexperienced. It doesn’t teach you how to make a correction without creating three new problems.
And most importantly, it doesn’t teach you how to determine whether the thing you believe is happening is actually happening. That requires practical experience.
Knowledge should make us more discerning, not more afraid. It should give us more tools, not fewer.
The question I want riders to ask, instead of continually asking:
“What’s wrong with my horse?”
I would encourage riders to start asking:
“What is my horse capable of right now, and what can I do to help him become more capable?”
