Raising a Dog & Mastering Calm Assertive Energy | Cesar Millan

Millan opens with a distinction between affection itself and the state from which it is given. He is not arguing against affection; he says it should be paired with patience, calmness, and an open mind. In his account, when a dog misbehaves, the handler should guide it back toward a preferred state. He contrasts fight, flight, and avoidance with patience, calm surrender, and a happy-go-lucky disposition. This is Millan’s behavioral framework as presented in the conversation; this opening excerpt does not supply independent evidence for the categories or their effects.

Huberman introduces the episode as a discussion of dog biology and psychology with implications beyond pet ownership. He previews Millan’s claim that dogs respond to people’s energy and actions as well as to verbal commands, and connects that idea to clarity and calm in human interactions. These are the episode’s framing claims rather than findings demonstrated in the excerpt. Huberman also describes his own experience: he read Millan’s book before raising Costello, a bulldog–mastiff mix, and credits its principles with helping him build a relationship in which he could bring the dog into varied settings and found him well behaved. That is personal testimony, not a controlled comparison of training approaches.

The brief exchange about Be the Pack Leader establishes why Huberman invited Millan: Huberman says the book and Millan’s other teachings had a substantial effect on both his relationship with Costello and his wider life. The opening therefore sets up a practical conversation grounded in one owner’s experience, while leaving the broader claims about dog behavior to be examined in the discussion that follows.

After the formal welcome, Huberman raises a tension in how people think about dog ownership: someone may regard themselves as a good owner while their dog still has behavioral or emotional difficulties. He tentatively suggests those difficulties may reflect something about the human as well. Millan rejects the hedge—“Not probably”—and Huberman agrees more firmly. The exchange shifts responsibility away from treating a dog’s behavior as a moral failing and toward examining the human–dog interaction.

Millan’s explanation is that instinctive behavior is reaction rather than a knowledgeable choice, so, in his view, an animal cannot be blamed for doing the wrong thing. He then makes a stronger practical claim: a person can help ensure a dog behaves appropriately by bringing what he calls “good energy.” The excerpt does not define or measure that term, nor does it present a case study or evidence testing the claim. It establishes Millan’s central lens for the conversation: look first at the handler’s state and actions when interpreting a dog’s behavior.

Millan defines “good energy” through five qualities: silence, calmness, confidence, love, and joy. Silence is linked to patience; calmness to trust and breathing; confidence to knowledge; love to choosing when to show affection; and joy to celebration after an achievement. He argues that affection given at the wrong moment can reinforce behavior an owner does not want. These are Millan’s concepts and associations; the exchange does not give operational definitions or research evidence for them.

To illustrate the sequence, Millan points to soccer and the World Cup: a team must be patient, calm, confident, and committed to what it is doing before celebrating a goal. He extends that analogy to dogs, proposing that the five qualities connect spirit, instinct, heart, and mind. His compact formula is “Trust, respect, love”: trust the spirit, respect instinct, express love through the heart, and create with the mind. The sports example makes the model intuitive, but it remains an analogy rather than evidence that the same mechanism governs team performance and dog behavior.

Huberman says many listeners may not be familiar with the idea of sensing and exchanging energy with a dog, then grounds the discussion in his relationship with Costello. His takeaway from Millan’s teaching is to recognize the animal as an animal before centering the owner’s personal identity or attachment to it. This is a shift in perspective offered by Huberman, not a disagreement over a specific training result; the excerpt provides no independent test of the broader “energy” framework.

Millan says breed and name should come last when understanding a dog. He describes rehabilitation as restoring what he calls a happy spirit and healthy instinct, while teaching rules, boundaries, and limitations. In his account, those structures—not breed—are what produce good behavior. He extends the same principle to people, arguing that race and background matter less than having a positive spirit, healthy instincts, and a well-educated mind, and that good people help others and model constructive behavior. These are Millan’s broad claims; this passage offers no comparative evidence across breeds or human groups.

Huberman then moves from Millan’s general framework to a personal example. He says living with Costello taught him to notice people’s energy, and recalls a walk when the dog sometimes resisted going in a particular direction. Huberman says he had established the dog’s position at his side or slightly behind him early on. The next part of the interview develops this story; at this point it is an owner’s account of applying ideas from Millan’s book, not a measured test of the method.

Huberman describes trying two ideas from Millan’s book: limiting eye contact, touch, and speech during the first minutes after coming home, and later experimenting with what he calls “approval energy” during walks. He recalls first establishing an easy walking rhythm, allowing Costello to sniff while continuing forward, and then silently thinking and feeling approval without intentionally changing his gaze or leash tension. He says Costello looked up at him, which he experienced as striking.

He says he repeated the silent positive attention at other times—after hikes, during workdays when Costello came to the lab, or while cooking. The episode presents this as Huberman’s personal observation, not a controlled test: he acknowledges he cannot be sure whether leash tension or another cue changed, and the excerpt does not establish what caused the dog to look up. Millan’s brief affirmations do not add a competing explanation here.

Huberman interprets Costello’s response as evidence that the dog could sense more than words. He says the dog seemed to feel what he was feeling and may have been paying more attention than he realized. He also reports that silently conveying disapproval sometimes stopped an unwanted behavior, even when they were several meters apart. Millan affirms the account, while Huberman acknowledges that many listeners may find the idea implausible.

The concrete evidence in this passage is a first-person recollection, and Huberman emphasizes his confidence in having experienced the effect in different circumstances. The excerpt does not specify how those circumstances were recorded, whether another person observed them, or how unnoticed changes in posture, gaze, movement, or context were ruled out. It therefore documents his interpretation and conviction, but cannot establish that a dog detected an unspoken mental signal. No substantive disagreement is voiced in this section; the main qualification is the gap between a vivid anecdote and a tested explanation.

Huberman says Costello responded to what Huberman experienced as approval or disapproval even when he was driving or otherwise not speaking. As a neuroscientist, he notes that he could invent a neurological explanation, but does not offer one; instead, he asks Millan how he understands the experience. Millan answers through a spiritual account: prayer and silence can create a felt connection, and belief shapes what a person experiences. He recalls feeling his mother’s presence while crossing the border, a dangerous event during which he says he entrusted himself to God and believed his mother was thinking of him. This is a personal spiritual interpretation, not a demonstrated account of how signals pass between people or animals.

Millan argues that animals remain more closely attuned to instinct than humans do and recommends communicating through energy, body language, and intention rather than words alone. He connects focused attention with what he calls laws of attraction, creation, and maintenance, and describes patience and silence as an effectively inexhaustible source of power. His account mixes practical cues—posture, calmness, confidence, and intention—with spiritual language, but does not define “energy” in measurable terms or distinguish which observable cues might explain a dog’s response.

To illustrate his point, Millan says a cat can control a Rottweiler or pit bull through silence, calmness, and confidence. He adds that viewing a dog as dangerous can make a person give up their own sense of power, whereas calmness restores it. He therefore treats nonverbal communication as the first layer of interaction and says owners should teach a dog to respond to their calm presence, not only to spoken commands. The examples are illustrative assertions in the interview; no observation details or comparative tests are provided here.

Huberman strongly endorses the framework based on his experience with Costello, saying the relationship improved dramatically once he understood that how he showed up mattered more than how much he talked. In this excerpt, that endorsement remains personal testimony. The conversation offers no independent test of “energy” as a separate force, and Huberman explicitly leaves a possible neurological account unexplored rather than claiming to have established one.

Huberman continues his Costello story with the dog’s visits to a class of about 400 people. Costello would walk to the front, wait without engaging anyone, and then look across the room. Huberman says the dog could draw attention, but he also learned not to let it become a celebrity in the classroom: too much attention could lead to misbehavior. He would remind Costello that the setting had structure and order, a point Millan explicitly endorses.

The example connects Huberman’s earlier emphasis on nonverbal awareness with a practical boundary: warmth and attention do not replace structure. Huberman then broadens the lesson, saying people could benefit from noticing their own energy and that of others whether or not they own a dog. The claim is his interpretation of what the experience taught him; the anecdote does not compare outcomes or establish a general effect in human relationships.

Millan attributes his early approach to quiet, breathing, and physical discipline, drawing a broad contrast between what he says he learned growing up and American dog-ownership practices. He recalls arriving in the United States and walking groups of 40 to 60 dogs off leash because that was what he knew. He says a Los Angeles Times feature followed after people saw him walking a pack off leash from Inglewood to South Central. This is his account of how he became publicly known; it is not evidence that the method is safe or legal in other settings.

He distinguishes the legal, physical leash from what he calls a leash in the animal world: a relationship based on trust, respect, love, direction, and protection. Millan argues that people should convey calmness and confidence through leash handling, especially because some dogs react while leashed. He presents the handler’s energy as the basis of pack leadership. The excerpt does not explain how to assess leash reactivity, specify safety conditions, or compare outcomes; the relational language is Millan’s model, not a substitute for the physical restraint rules he acknowledges.

After a sponsor break, Huberman returns to practical walking questions. He says many listeners may not know how to walk a dog and asks whether it should stay beside or behind the handler, or ever move in front. Millan says learning to walk a dog would eliminate 90 percent of problems, a broad estimate offered without supporting data in this passage. The question opens the next section’s more specific discussion of walking position.

Millan says walking should teach a dog to follow, focus, and avoid distraction; he treats play and exploration as reward activities that follow this learning. In his framework, a dog that routinely walks ahead may take on the job of leading the route. Asked whether this is stressful, he answers that it depends on the dog’s supposed position in the pack: a middle- or back-position dog may find it stressful, while a front-position dog would not. He says the latter requires substantial handler knowledge and that many dogs are better suited to middle or back roles.

Millan describes back-position dogs as potentially fearful if handled poorly and middle-position dogs as naturally happy-go-lucky but liable to become hyper with too much excitement. He says these roles occur across breeds and within litters, associating the front role with direction and protection, the middle with sociability, and the back with sensitivity. Asked what suits a typical family, he recommends the middle. Huberman checks whether this applies across breeds and receives agreement. The exchange presents a simple temperament-and-position taxonomy, but supplies no method for reliably classifying dogs or evidence that littermates fall into these categories in the proportions Millan describes.

Having recommended a middle-position dog for a household where people have not raised a dog together before, Millan offers two ways to identify a puppy’s place in his pack model. When observing a litter with its mother, he says the presumed front-position puppy is often the largest and pushes siblings away to reach the mother; the middle follows, while the back-position puppies wait and appear shyer or more sensitive. He also says breeders may use colored ribbons to distinguish types, although he notes that breeders may use other labels such as “run of the litter” or “pet quality.”

For a litter seen without its mother, Millan suggests staying quiet and introducing something unfamiliar. He predicts that confident or happy-go-lucky puppies will approach, while a back-position puppy will hang back. His example is a pillow the puppies have not encountered before. Huberman reacts with interest, but does not report trying the assessment.