So, at least in theory, I recently learned how to work with an oxen team. I’d been saying that I was going to learn to drive oxen. Among my many discoveries was that working with oxen is more about communicating with them than driving them.

I heard one of my instructors say more than once. “You’re confusing them. They don’t know what you want them to do!” Staying focused on communicating was a bigger challenge than it might seem. And at times, it was funny. Mostly though, it was frustrating!

In brief, trained oxen receive information from the teamster in three ways. The first is (or at least should be) spatial—the body position of the teamster. Second is the “goad” or stick and where and how they are touched. The third is verbal. There is some indication that they hear vowels best. So “whoooooa” works better than “whoa.” The best example of confusing them was when I’d say, “Whoa!” but keep walking. (In my mind, it made sense because I wanted to get in front of them. In their bovine minds, I was sending mixed signals.)

Instructor Rob is a school teacher. We had lots of fun making comparisons. One was the comment, “What you’re doing shouts louder than what you’re saying.” You don’t have to work with kids for long before you realize “Do as I say and not as I do” doesn’t work well.

While a 2,000+ pound ox doesn’t engage in what we call “higher levels of reasoning,” the basics are the same. That said, two of the teams I worked with were extremely well-trained. One team of Devons would stand and let me walk some distance away. I could then raise my goad and call, “Right here, boys,” and they would walk to me and stop with their heads on either side of me.

We students had to learn a bit about herd instinct and survival from predators. Rob occasionally reminded us that building trust with the beasts was important. “You may have to convince them you’re not trying to kill them.” Herd instinct requires they accept you as the top ox.

Here’s an interesting comparison. My Ram pickup truck weighs about the same as a large pair of oxen. During Road Trip 2024, I drove that truck over 3,600 miles, mostly by pushing pedals, turning the wheel, and flipping switches. (I’m purposely omitting occasional arguments with the voice feature of the GPS.) The truck doesn’t have a mind of its own or any instincts. It just does what you tell it to do.

Oxen require a bit more understanding and communication than my truck or your car. You can’t just drive them. One of the things I found challenging is the amount of attention required with oxen, particularly when pulling something. There is no cruise control!

Of course, all analogies break down if you press them, but in addition to the joy of working with these large animals, it was great to be reminded of some of the basic truths about effective communication. I’m still processing, but a few important lessons can be learned.

Don’t send mixed messages! If you say “whoa,” stop moving. Remember: “What you are doing is shouting so loud I can’t hear what you’re saying.” Let’s get everything aligned.

Use multiple communication strategies! Oxen expect to be told and shown by position and the goad. With humans, say it, write it, demonstrate it. I’m not suggesting you email someone and ask if they got your text. Texting serves a different purpose than emailing or calling. Chose wisely.

Speak the language of the listener! With oxen, “Come here!” is not the same as “Right here!” Be conscious of buzzwords and implied meanings. Do you want me to do something, or do you need me to do something? Also, oxen can’t talk back. Humans can. Take advantage of that by asking humans what they heard or read.

Use the listener’s name freely! To make a team of oxen turn sharp left, one has to slow down and perhaps stop completely—it’s like driving a bulldozer. You’ll need to tell one ox (by name), “Haw!” and the other (by name), “Whoa!” (The goad and your body position are important. Use multiple communication strategies!)

When we want a team of oxen to do something, good communication is effective. “Driving” is not. Picture grabbing a 2,000-pound animal by the horns and making him stop. It’s not likely to happen. Picture yourself being dragged in the direction the team chooses. It might make for a funny video to post on social media, but it’s not likely to achieve the desired result.

When done correctly, communication is powerful. It beats driving any day once you get the hang of it.