I’ve been riding horses for more than three decades—long enough to remember when carrying a whip wasn’t optional, it was expected. Whether I was legging up a green horse on a cold morning or galloping out of the start box at a four-star, the whip was always there—like the reins themselves—something you don’t think twice about, just part of the ride. It was part of the toolkit, just as it had been for generations of riders before me.
But times change. And more importantly, our understanding of horses—and of what constitutes ethical, effective training—has changed too. It’s time we talk, seriously and without defensiveness, about whether the whip still belongs in competition.
Because I believe it doesn’t. Not anymore.
Tradition, But At What Cost?
Let’s be clear: This isn’t about vilifying riders who carry whips. Most of us learned to use them as a cue or a reminder, not a punishment. And when used with tact and timing, it’s true that a whip can reinforce a leg aid or help focus a horse’s attention.
But we all know where that line is. And we’ve all seen it crossed—at schooling shows, on international live streams, and even at the Olympic level. Horses flinching from repeated strikes after a refusal. Riders growing frustrated and escalating in front of judges, spectators and cameras.
I’ve crossed that line, too—unintentionally, but undeniably. In 2017, I rode my horse Super Socks BCF around the Rolex Kentucky CCI5*-L, finishing sixth. It was a huge step in my equestrian career. On the cross-country, because I was nervous or Super Socks was nervous—I’m not sure which—I used the whip a lot. I always stayed within the accepted rules, but when I watched the video of my round later, I knew it was excessive. I didn’t see a confident round. I saw a horse who jumped despite the pressure I applied, not because of trust.
That realization shifted something in me. It forced me to reevaluate not just how I ride, but why I ride the way I do. It made me really think about how much we’re asking of riders in high-pressure moments, and whether it’s realistic—or even fair—to expect perfect judgment in the heat of the moment when it comes to something like whip use. That reflection pushed me to take a closer look at my own habits, and at the rules themselves.
Some of that reflection led me to take a swing at writing and submitting a rule change proposal to the U.S. Equestrian Federation and the Fédération Equestre Internationale regarding whip use. In a nutshell I was proposing limiting whip use in the jumping phases to one strike per use and only allowing the whip to be used for encouragement to reinforce the natural aids—not as a punishment. This means it would not be allowed to use the whip immediately following a disobedience. Both of these aspects of the proposal drew some quite lively debates throughout the committee process. It was during some of those debates where I started asking myself if it might be simpler to just get rid of whips in competition completely.
Are we training or threatening? In our sport, we prize the concept of the partnership. We talk about trust and feel and horsemanship. But when we use the whip to compel rather than communicate, we move from partnership to coercion.
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A horse that jumps out of fear is not a trained horse. A horse that moves forward to avoid pain is not a confident one. And a sport that continues to allow—even tacitly encourage—this kind of riding is not one that can defend itself against public scrutiny.
The Social License Crisis
Let’s not pretend this is a private matter anymore.
Equestrian sport exists under a magnifying glass. The general public may not know how to wrap polos or ride a half-pass, but they absolutely understand what it looks like when an animal is afraid.
The whip is one of the most visible—and easily misunderstood—tools we use. And in a world where a viral clip can spark public outrage and threaten an entire discipline, we need to ask: Is carrying a whip in competition worth the cost?
The FEI has already limited whip use in several disciplines. National federations are following suit. But the real question isn’t whether we can still use the whip—it’s whether we should.
Ethical Training Is Good Training
The beauty of this moment is that we’re not left without tools; we just need better ones. Groundwork, systematic conditioning, positive reinforcement, pressure-and-release techniques that prioritize feel over force: These are not fringe ideas anymore. They’re mainstream. They’re effective. And they build horses who perform because they understand, not because they fear the alternative.
The best horses I’ve ever ridden—the ones that tackled four- and five-star tracks with ears pricked and hearts open—didn’t go because I had a whip in my hand. They went because they trusted me. Because we trained for that moment, not bullied our way to it.
That belief was reinforced this spring, when I rode around the Defender Kentucky CCI5*-L without carrying a whip. My horse Alderwood took an unfortunate stumble jumping into the Head of the Lake, but even so, he was incredibly positive and confident throughout the course. He attacked every question with enthusiasm and clarity—not because he feared the consequences of saying no, but because he understood the job and felt supported. That round meant as much to me as any result ever has, because it reflected the kind of partnership I’ve worked to build.
And that’s the kind of performance I want to see at the top of our sport.
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Our Responsibility, Our Opportunity
Equestrianism offers so much to the world. It teaches grit, humility, empathy and connection. But we cannot continue to claim the benefits of horse sport while ignoring its ethical responsibilities.
It’s not enough to say we love the horse. We must show it—in our rules, our training and our competitions. Letting go of the whip is a symbolic and practical step toward a more ethical, sustainable future for the sport.
It won’t fix everything overnight. But it will send a clear message: that we value partnership over power, training over shortcuts, and the welfare of the horse above all else.
It’s time.
Matt Brown is a lifelong horseman and student of the sport of three-day eventing. He is a five-star competitor and has represented the U.S. as a member of Nations Cup teams at Aachen (Germany) and Boekelo (the Netherlands). He was an alternate for both the 2015 Pan American Games (Canada) and the 2016 Rio Olympic Games. He and his wife, Cecily Clark, work side by side developing dressage and eventing horses, as well as helping students achieve their goals. They base their business in Kennett Square, Pennsylvania, and spend their winters in Aiken, South Carolina.
This article originally appeared in the June 2025 issue of The Chronicle of the Horse. You can subscribe and get online access to a digital version and then enjoy a year of The Chronicle of the Horse. If you’re just following COTH online, you’re missing so much great unique content. Each print issue of the Chronicle is full of in-depth competition news, fascinating features, probing looks at issues within the sports of hunter/jumper, eventing and dressage, and stunning photography.
The views expressed in opinion pieces are those of the writers and do not necessarily reflect those of The Chronicle of the Horse.
