How Horses and Humans Learn, Adapt, and Grow

Adaptability is an essential quality we think of in many contexts, and one synonymous with flexibility, learning, and growth. Yet, do we always overlay this quality on our horses and our training, or even more importantly, on the very thing that allows us to be adaptable in the first place — our nervous system? Have you ever met a horse or human who had a hard time learning or retaining a new skill, exhibited “bad” behaviour when under pressure, was challenged by changes such as moving, new environments, or with their schedule, companion, or training routine? I know I have, and I have also been that human, and had that horse. Often, we get labelled as overly sensitive, flighty, or even slow or challenged learners, but the reality is that each horse and human has a unique nervous system that functions, thrives, and learns in different ways and under different conditions.

When I was a teen, I played soccer in a high-pressure and achievement-oriented league. I look back now and cringe, as I remember being skilled and successful in practice only to absolutely bomb in games. My coach, team, family, and myself had no clue how to deal with what was happening. I understand now, 20 years later, that my nervous system thrives in situations that are fun, varied, positive, and low pressure, like in practice. As soon as the game arrived and the external pressure (crowd, teammates, coach, expectations) and internal pressure (inner criticism, judgement) were on, I (my nervous system) collapsed into a puddle of goo. More accurately, I entered a space of parasympathetic collapse and sympathetic hyperactivation, leading to a system shutdown where optimal performance and retention of learned skills were nearly impossible.

Hindsight has taught me a lot about this experience and how my unique system adapts (or doesn’t) and has made me very curious about how humans and horses learn, adapt, and grow. I have also come to understand learning in terms of three zones. Imagine a bullseye — in the middle, the comfort zone; outside of this, the adaptability zone; and beyond that, the freak-out zone, where the nervous system is pushed well beyond its capacity, like Alexa in high-pressure soccer games. 

For a long time, training my horses did not equate to thinking about their learning styles, their personal freak-out zones (which are individual for each horse), or unique nervous systems. Instead, I applied what I had been taught by my coach/trainer, and if it really didn’t work (essentially if my horse became noticeably unhappy and resistant), I would try something different, but I would still not think specifically about learning styles. Because I was employing mainly negative reinforcement training, I could usually bully my way into being fairly effective and would see something that looked a whole lot like learning in my now 21-year-old mare, Diva. Looking back, I realize much of this “learning” was done by pushing her into the freak-