Prison Phase in Dog Training: Why I Don’t Use It Anymore
You might have heard the phrase “prison phase” floating around in dog training circles. It’s a term that became popular about 7 years ago when I first began shifting from walking dogs into training.
At its core, prison phase means that for a certain period of time, a dog is only ever with you training or shut away in a crate (aside from toilet breaks).
The idea is simple: the dog learns that all good things in life - food, play and interaction come directly from the handler.
All meals are hand-fed through training.
Walks and “free time” are off the table.
If the dog doesn’t want to eat? Tough luck.
The logic behind this is to strip away outside reinforcement so the dog looks to the handler as the only source of enjoyment. And I’ll be honest back then, this framework made sense to me. I even trained this way for a while.
Especially since many of my clients’ dogs were coming to me with no rules, no structure, free access to everything, and no reason to take a reward.
But over the years, I’ve realised something important: dogs are more complex and nuanced than a one-size-fits-all formula.
Why Prison Phase Doesn’t Sit Right With Me
Let me tell you about Rory, the Beauceron I’m currently training.
I’d met her before with her owner around, but when I came to sit and train her alone, she barked at me from her crate, backing away nervously.
If I’d been following the prison phase framework, I would have:
Kept her tethered at my side constantly.
Only let her out for toilet breaks.
Withheld food unless she took it from my hand.
Instead, I chose a different path.
I let her out into the garden with one of my boys (who she already knew). I watched them interact while I stayed back. Later that day, I fed her out of a bowl. The next morning, I took her on a 4km run with me and Ruse, followed by another meal in a bowl. That evening, she spent some tethered downtime in the garden while I read a book.
I didn’t even try to hand-feed her until 48 hours later.
Why? Because she was already insecure. I didn’t need to pile on more stress by boxing her up and starving her into compliance.
What I Do Instead
Don’t get me wrong, I believe in:
Hand-feeding to build motivation.
Crate training to create structure and preserve energy.
Social isolation when needed to help a dog focus.
But I use these tools in a way that fits the individual dog in front of me.
With Rory, that meant letting her decompress, burning energy through exercise, and giving her the chance to feel good before asking for more.
From her perspective, here’s what she experienced:
A person who brought along some friendly dogs.
Walks and runs that helped regulate her stress and appetite.
Food given without pressure.
Space in her crate to reset.
The result? Within days, she was coming out of the crate switched on, ready to work, and pushing me for food in training, even though she’d eaten from a bowl the night before.
Training Isn’t About Following Trends
The prison phase may have value for some trainers, but I believe it’s outdated as a cookie-cutter approach.
Instead, I:
Adjust tools to each dog’s temperament and needs.
Balance structure with fulfilment.
Preserve energy for training without over-isolating.
Leave room for flexibility rather than blindly following a “system.”
At the end of the day, dog training isn’t black and white. It’s about reading the dog in front of you and tailoring your approach.
That’s what makes training balanced. Using structure, food, play, isolation, exercise, and decompression in the right mix, at the right time, for the right dog.
So here’s my challenge to you: stay open to the process. Use what works. Leave what doesn’t. And always remember your dog is more than a framework.