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On Food Rewards, Fear, and the Relationship to Connection

I’ve been thinking a lot about how horses perceive us, especially horses who are fearful, feral, or unsure in their relationship to people.

I want to start by saying clearly: I believe positive reinforcement can be incredibly powerful. Food rewards, when thoughtfully applied, can create clarity, motivation, and genuine enthusiasm in learning.

But recently, in a few interactions with some very sensitive horses, I was reminded of something important.

The learner’s perception of the experience matters more than the quadrant we intend to operate in.

If a horse is afraid of or unsure of us, our presence itself may be the aversive.

In that case, every time we approach, offer food, and then leave, the relief they feel when we walk away may be far more reinforcing than the treat we brought. If they won’t eat in our presence, the most meaningful event isn’t the food, it’s the removal of the pressure our presence creates.

Learning theory doesn’t disappear just because we prefer one quadrant over another.

Negative reinforcement is always present in some form. The horse is constantly learning from what goes away, not just from what is added.

When fear is high, appetite is often suppressed. When a nervous system is in a defensive state, food may not register as safety, it may simply be overshadowed by vigilance.

In these cases, I often prefer using approach and retreat which is sometimes called Constructional Approach Training (CAT-H). The horse is allowed to stay at a distance where they are aware of the trigger but not overwhelmed. When they show a calmer behavior such as a breath, a softening, or a shift of weight, the trigger removes itself, meaning I walk away.

At its core, approach and retreat is about acknowledging concern.

It says: I see that you’re worried about this. I’m going to step back so you have time to process.

Instead of pushing through anxiety or trying to override it, we respond to it. The horse learns that they don’t have to escalate to create space and they don’t have to brace, flee, or fight in order to be heard.

They can influence their environment through regulation.

This requires attunement. It asks us to notice subtle shifts, changes in breathing, muscle tone, eye softness, posture, and respond to those shifts rather than ignoring them. It’s less about executing a protocol and more about being in relationship.

As Sarah Schlote says, “attunement is about being seen and heard, feeling felt, and getting gotten.”

When a horse feels that, something changes. Their nervous system begins to settle because they no longer feel alone in the experience.

Often, trust builds quickly this way. Sometimes in a single session you see a visible shift. Once enough safety is established, food can be introduced in a way that truly reinforces curiosity and connection rather than competing with fear.

This ties directly back to something I wrote about recently: the relationship to connection.

How does the horse feel about us?

Are they organizing toward us, or bracing against us?

Are they staying present, or dissociating and tolerating?

If our presence is still perceived as an aversive, no amount of food will override the relief they feel when we leave. And if the horse feels safer with distance than with proximity, that’s information.

For me, this isn’t about being “for” or “against” any training approach. It’s about recognizing that the nervous system tells the truth. The quadrant we aim for matters far less than how the horse experiences the interaction.

Connection first and if the horse does not yet feel safe in proximity, sometimes the most humane thing we can do is give them control over our distance.