Is Ecological Coaching Just New Dogma?
A response to the criticism, a reflection on what really guides us, and a challenge for coaches on both sides of the fence.
Recently, someone told me:
“This whole ecological dynamics thing — it’s just another form of dogma.”
I’ve been coaching long enough not to get defensive right away. I paused. Let it sink in. And I sat with the question:
Is it?
I mean, maybe.
It’s always worth checking whether you’ve stopped questioning the thing you swear by. So I asked myself the hard stuff — the kind of stuff I’d ask another coach:
Have I gotten so into this framework that I’ve stopped being curious about other ways?
Am I using this approach to actually help athletes — or to protect my ego?
And if it’s not dogma… how would I even know?
Here’s what I came away with:
I don’t coach the way I do because it’s popular or trendy. I coach this way because I believe in it — deeply. Not just because of the outcomes, but because of what it stands for.
This isn’t dogma.
This is alignment.
Let me explain.
What Is Dogma, Really?
Dogma isn’t just strong belief.
Dogma is belief without question. Belief that shuts the door. Belief that gets rigid and performative and loud. Dogma happens when you stop listening.
It shows up in coaching all the time — especially in traditional models:
“You’ve got to master technique before you play.”
“Reps, reps, reps — that’s how you learn.”
“Get low. Move your feet. Platform to target.”
That’s not just a philosophy. That’s a pile of assumptions, repeated so often no one questions if they’re actually true — or useful.
So when someone tosses the word “dogma” at ecological coaching, my first question back is:
“Okay. But are you holding your own beliefs to the same standard?”
Because sometimes the loudest “this is dogma!” is coming from the most unexamined corner of the gym.
Why I Coach This Way
I came to ecological dynamics and constraints-led design for one main reason:
Joy.
That’s what grabbed me first. The feeling of watching athletes light up, discover something on their own, laugh through failure, compete without fear. That’s what hooked me.
It wasn’t because I thought it would help players win more.
It was because I thought it would help them love the game more.
And what I found is — the two aren’t separate.
Ecological coaching isn’t just more joyful. It’s more effective.
It produces:
Better decision-makers.
More adaptable athletes.
Players who transfer learning from practice to game without needing a script.
So yes, this approach matches my values. But it also matches my goals: help athletes become better, braver, more self-aware humans through volleyball.
And if someone showed me a different method that created that — joy, transfer, growth — I’d explore it in a heartbeat. I’m not loyal to the model. I’m loyal to the mission.
Can Other Practices Be Joyful? Of Course.
I’ve seen coaches run traditional drills with music blasting, high fives flying, and players loving every second. That’s real. That matters.
But here’s where I draw the line:
I’m not trying to help athletes fall in love with drills. Or with praise. Or with pleasing a coach.
I want them to fall in love with the game.
And when we build practices around isolated reps, blocked instructions, and clean lines of compliance… what are we really teaching them to love?
Not decision-making.
Not adaptation.
Not volleyball.
We’re teaching them to love being good at pleasing someone. And that’s not the love that lasts.
The Real Dogma Isn’t New
Here’s what I think is truly dogmatic in our coaching culture:
The belief that there’s a “right” way to move.
The obsession with technique over context.
The idea that we can micromanage athletes into mastery.
Ecological dynamics is not a method. It’s a lens. It asks us to design environments instead of deliver answers. It asks us to observe instead of dictate. It asks us to trust players to self-organize under pressure — even when it’s messy.
And yeah, that makes some people uncomfortable.
Because when you take the clipboard out of your hands and put the problem-solving into theirs, you have to let go of control.
And not everyone is ready for that.
If You’re Throwing Stones…
Look, if you’re reading this and you think ecological coaching is nonsense — that’s okay. I don’t need you to agree with me.
But if you’re calling it dogma while clinging to tradition that hasn’t been examined since the 1990s… maybe take a breath.
I’ve questioned my methods deeply. I still do. I test, I iterate, I reflect.
Can you say the same?
Because this isn’t about being right. It’s not about proving something. It’s about being relentlessly honest about what we’re doing and why we’re doing it.
This Isn’t Dogma. It’s a Compass.
Ecological coaching helps me stay oriented toward:
The player’s experience.
The richness of the game.
The kind of learning that sticks.
That compass keeps me honest.
If you have another one — and it’s working — awesome. I hope you keep following it.
But if you’re throwing out “dogma” because what I do looks different… check your own pile first. Because tradition, too, can become religion.
I’m not coaching to create control.
I’m coaching to create connection.
To the game. To each other. To themselves.
That’s not dogma.
That’s the point.
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This was a fantastic read!