Learned Helplessness: The Dogs Just Won’t Leave the Cages?

Window shopping at the mall.  I have this image in my head of the kid magnet pet stores – the kind that stopped existing.  They’d put the cutest puppy they had in the window.  Then, in the back of the store, there were the former puppies – too big for the cages in which they were stuck. The reality for those pooches? If you’re not cute, you’re on sale.

The biggest losers in the USA dog lottery back then were the dogs that were used for research.  In some instances, it makes sense to try things out on living tissue other than human tissue to see if it works.  But the behavioral sciences – oof.  Just because something works — or doesn’t — on a dog…doesn’t mean it transfers to humans.

They used the dogs anyway.

In one experiment, two researchers sponsored by our own Department of Defense thought it’d be a good idea to put dogs in cages and then hit them with electric shocks.  That’s not flying in the USA we know of today…but it did back in the 1960s.  They shocked the dogs over and over while they were still locked in cages.  Then, at some point, they opened the cages up and started shocking them with the doors open.  The big finding was that when they were shocked, they didn’t run away.  When the same horrific treatment was given to dogs who hadn’t been caged, they ran away – the first time each experienced the shock. 

Learned helplessness. After enough pain, the dogs stopped trying. Meanwhile, the unshocked ones said, See ya. The world was very interested in what happens when a living thing is trapped in a no-win situation. This was bad for the dogs.  The good news for us humans is that this was the beginning of an organized understanding of the effects of trauma, chronic stress, and endless no-win situations on us upright walkers. 

A story of a boxer in a no-win situation was made known in the Life of Reilly, a Sports Illustrated column.  The writer, Rick Reilly, was a real journalist.  He got his stories on his own – pre-AI…pre-Google.  He was the kind of journalist who spent his time learning, then typing.  He wrote about interesting things.  No slop.  No fake news.

The boxer he wrote about wasn’t famous like Tyson, Ali, Lennox Lewis, Joe Louis, or either of the Sugar Rays.  It was about a guy who was down on his luck, down on his health, and on the verge of having his ticket punched for permanent departure.  Kidney inflammation was the culprit – and it was 1918 when he was diagnosed.  Treatable now.  A death sentence back then.

He was the dog in the cage – taking the electric shocks.  This was a time before PET scans and transfusions.  In those days, when the doctor gave you the bad news, it was the only news.  Make peace with the people you're mad at, and settle your debts — so your family doesn’t get stuck with them.

Billy Miske - 1894 - 1924

His name was Billy Miske – the St. Paul Thunderbolt.  He fought 101 professional fights.  Won 72 of them – 33 by KO.  He fought Jack Dempsey three times.  He lost all three.  Had he won any of them – you’d probably have heard his name.  Thirty of his fights took place after he was given the news that he’d die from his illness. 

He had a wife and kids.  He needed money, and time was running out.  One last time…back to the boxing ring. It’d be a beating…but he’d get paid.  The bettors just wanted to know how sick he was – knowledge that would help them pick the round in which he’d hit the floor.  He’d get $2,400 for the fight – which would be like getting $45,000.00 in 2025.

According to Reilly, Miske didn’t train at all.  He spent this time sucking down bone broth, eating, resting, and getting his body as strong as he could for his final war.  So, when this emaciated, kidney disease-ridden, washed-up fighter went in the ring and knocked out Bill Brennan in the 4th round, plenty of money was lost.  But a lot of hearts were won that night.  The electrocuted dog that was supposed to stay in the cage saw the opening.  And he ran like hell. 

Even in 1923, our country marveled at the puncher’s chance. We still do. With or without the research, we know in our hearts that the number of people who succumb far outnumbers the number of those who overcome.

Look at it this way…

Tiger wasn’t supposed to be good at golf.  When he started playing – the private clubs that wouldn’t let him in because of his skin color now have his pictures on their walls.

Robert Downey Jr. was done.  Then Iron Man.

Seabiscuit was too small to win a single race.  Then the horse won 33 of them. 

We want the dogs getting shocked in the cages to win.  Want to know why? 

Because they give us hope.

Ever feel like the dog in the cage? 

Like maybe you were born into the wrong story…

Or every time you try to stand up, something invisible knocks you down again?

Ever feel like everyone else’s box came with the directions – and you’re just pressing random buttons, hoping not to blow something up?

I’ve been there.  We all have.  Temporarily. 

That’s why the Billy Miskes of the world matter. Why we can't stop watching old clips of Tiger at Augusta. Why do we cheer for comeback stories, all the time?

Because deep down, we don’t want to believe it ends with the shock. We want to believe there’s still a punch to throw, a final round to fight, a door left open.

We want to believe we can be the ones who run.

Pass this along to anyone you know who is taking the hits – in their health, in their emotions, maybe their finances – but they are still finding the courage to crawl, stand, wind up, and swing. 

Anyone with the guts to push forward is NOT done.  The cage is NOT locked.  And even if it is…when the cage shakes too much…it breaks.

To the fighters - someone out there is watching your fight — and hoping like hell that you win.