Consider jumping competitions.
Jumping is when people in specially tailored red or blue coats and elvet riding hats, looking as if they are occupied with something extremely important, whip their horses, already perspiring from pain and terror, to force them to jump across assorted painted poles.
It looks very serious and intense.
The bell rings (usually it is a pilfered ship’s bell), the judges excitedly sit back on their haunches, the loudspeaker screams, the crowd of spectators roars and the poles are lifted rather high, and there is the hope that one of the participants will break his neck or at least break his back.
The men in tight fitting breeches and velvet helmets-just as wide bottomed as the ladies in the dressage arena- having driven the horse out of his mind with the pain jumping all the painted poles, force their way toward the television cameras, in whose field of view they assume an especially daring air.
They willingly give interviews, where they are certain to lean on their own certain contact with the horse, and even blab the obligatory something about the horse’s love for jumping the painted poles.
And now imagine that by some magic the bridles have been removed from all the horses.
That instrumentwhich cruelly controls the horse by great pain in the mouth, is no longer functioning. The horses are free.
They all scatter instantly. And it becomes clear that there was no real contact at all and there never was, that the horses were restrained and constrained only by pain.
The moronic amusement called equestrian sport ceases to exist as soon as the painful component of control is remoed.