Ethics and Morality
What’s the Leash Really For?
Rethinking control and care in walking our dogs.
Posted June 9, 2025 Reviewed by Michelle Quirk
Key points
- Leashes can frustrate natural dog behavior and limit autonomy.
- Leash reactivity is a symptom of deeper problems with how leashes are used.
- Ethical leash use centers on connection, collaboration, and shared experience.
In the life of a modern dog, the leash is as fundamental—and as fraught—as the collar. Wound into its deceptively simple design is a web of ethical complexity: safety and restriction, care and control, protection and coercion. As I argue in Who’s a Good Dog?, the leash isn’t just a rope or a strap. It’s a powerful tool that can enhance or erode the quality of a dog’s life.
It’s time we asked: What is the leash really for?
A History of Constraint
To understand the leash’s role in modern dog life, we need to take a step back. Mark Derr, author of A Dog’s History of America, once told me that one of the greatest crises for dogs in recent history came with the rise of leash laws in the 1960s. Suddenly, dogs were no longer free to roam. No more unsupervised wanderings, no more spontaneous socializing, no more dog-directed exploration of the neighborhood (Derr 2004).
Instead, they were leashed.
From that point on, dogs were expected to walk in straight lines, at human speeds, with human goals: Get to the store, finish the loop, pass the other dog without incident. But dogs are not humans. Their natural rhythms are erratic, led by scent and curiosity. The leash often suppresses all of this. It interrupts sniffing. It prevents detours. It limits greeting behaviors. It can even force close contact with things that feel threatening—dogs, people, cyclists—when a dog would otherwise choose to create distance.
In short: Leashes often prevent dogs from being dogs.
Leash Reactivity: A Misplaced Diagnosis?
It’s no surprise, then, that so many behavioral issues show up on leash. “Leash reactivity”—the umbrella term for dogs who bark, lunge, growl, or snap while tethered—has become a buzzword in training circles. But perhaps the problem isn’t that dogs are reactive on leash. Perhaps the leash itself is the problem. It changes the rules of interaction. It alters canine body language. It blocks escape. And it often delivers discomfort—through pressure on the neck, abrupt jerks, or the frustration of constant restraint.
The leash doesn’t just constrain the dog’s body. It shapes—and sometimes shrinks—their entire social world.
Freedom, Trust, and the Ethics of Off-Leash Life
In theory, walking off-leash is a symbol of deep trust and strong connection. It signals that a dog is well-trained, reliable, and responsive. Yet, in practice, off-leash freedom is rare. In a national survey, fewer than half of dog guardians said they felt comfortable letting their dog off leash in public. And those who do often overestimate their dog’s recall abilities—cue the familiar scene of someone yelling “Come here!” while their dog joyfully ignores them in a full sprint toward chaos.
Still, the off-leash life does exist, and for a lucky few, it works beautifully. One of my neighbors refuses to use a collar or leash at all. His dog Duke roams freely through our rural neighborhood, collarless and unencumbered. There’s a kind of radical philosophy behind it: that Duke is not property, but a fellow being who deserves freedom. And in this particular community—quiet, tolerant, low-traffic—it’s a life that works.
But it’s not a model most of us can follow. And it’s not the leash itself that’s to blame—it’s how we use it.
Leashes as Tools of Collaboration
Like collars, leashes are not inherently harmful. They can be used ethically, even beautifully, if approached with care and mindfulness. A well-fitted harness combined with a thoughtfully chosen leash can become a lifeline, not a weapon—a way to stay connected without creating conflict.
The right leash setup depends on the dog, the human, and the context. A retractable leash might work in open fields but be dangerous on city sidewalks. A six-foot leash gives a dog room to explore while maintaining safety. A longer line allows for more freedom in open areas. What's crucial is not just what we use, but how we use it.
Are we yanking the leash to correct or punish? Are we rushing the dog along rather than letting them sniff? Are we using the leash to pull them into interactions they’d rather avoid? These are the questions that matter.
Ethical Walking: Moving Together, Not Against
Ultimately, the leash should be a tool of cooperation, not coercion. It should serve as a bridge between two species walking side by side, not a reminder of who’s in charge. Ethical leash use requires:
- Choosing gear that fits well and avoids pain or pressure.
- Letting dogs sniff, explore, and move at a reasonable pace.
- Allowing space from triggers when needed.
- Training recall and focus without relying on force.
- Thinking of the walk as shared time, not a task to complete.
When we leash a dog, we’re making a promise: I will keep you safe, but I will also respect your needs. I will guide you, but I will also listen to you. The best walks aren’t about control—they’re about connection.
Let the Leash Be Light
If we rethink the leash not as a restraint but as a relationship, everything changes. It becomes not a tether, but a thread of trust—one that joins us to our dogs as we move together through a world that often wasn’t made with them in mind.
Hold it gently. Use it wisely. Let it be light.
References
Pierce, J. (2023). Who's a Good Dog? And How to Be a Better Human. University of Chicago Press.
Derr, M. (2004). A Dog's History of America: How Our Best Friend Explored, Conquered, and Settled a Continent. North Point Press.