04/02/2026
Grab a glass of wine 🍷 and curl up for this wonderfully written essay from the French Bulldog Foundation of America:
**Growing Pains: The French Bulldog Has Changed Before — and Its Future Deserves Thoughtful Refinement**
French Bulldogs did not become what they are today by standing still. This breed, like every breed, was shaped by people making choices, drawing lines, arguing over type, and reacting to new information as it became available. That is not a flaw in the history of the breed. That is the history of the breed.
One of the earliest major turning points in French Bulldog history was the debate over ear shape. At one point, both rose ears and bat ears existed in the breed, and the disagreement over which was correct was strong enough to help prompt the formation of the French Bull Dog Club of America in 1897. American fanciers felt passionately enough about the bat ear that they ultimately drew a line in the sand, and over time that ear shape became one of the most recognizable hallmarks of the breed.
That matters, because it reminds us that even the things people now treat as sacred and untouchable were once debated, challenged, and fought over. The breed standard did not appear out of nowhere in perfect form. It was written by people, defended by people, and refined by people. The same can be said for color, for type, and for the many traits that over time came to define what people believed a French Bulldog should be.
And that is exactly why this conversation matters now.
At some point, refusing to change stops being preservation and starts being nostalgia. There is nothing wrong with loving a breed’s history or appreciating how it came to be. But if new information shows us that some long-held beliefs, practices, or assumptions were incomplete — or even harmful — then holding onto them simply because they are familiar does not serve the dogs. It only serves our attachment to the past.
That is where real progress gets uncomfortable.
Every generation believes, to some extent, that the way things have always been done must be the right way. But history shows us over and over that this is not true. In medicine, in science, in husbandry, in breeding, and in animal welfare, people often resist change until the evidence becomes too strong to ignore. The harder part is that some still ignore it anyway, because changing course requires humility. It requires admitting that what we accepted yesterday may not be good enough today.
French Bulldogs are no different.
This breed has already gone through multiple periods of change in a relatively short time. The ear dispute is one of the earliest examples. The formalization of standards and the drawing of hard lines around type are others. In every era, people reacted strongly when the breed’s identity felt challenged. There was resistance, there was division, and there were people who believed any shift would ruin what they loved. And yet the breed continued.
That brings us to where we are today.
For many years, certain problems have been brushed off in some circles as simply “a Frenchie thing.” Spines. Hips. Breathing. Whelping difficulties. Poor function. Limited stamina. Exaggerated structure. The idea has often been that because the French Bulldog is not a working breed or a sporting breed, it does not need to be held to the same expectations for soundness and functionality. But I believe that mindset has failed the breed.
A companion dog still deserves to function well. A companion dog still deserves to breathe well, move well, recover well, and live comfortably. Being a housedog does not mean a dog should be fragile. Being a companion breed does not mean poor function should be accepted as normal. If anything, a dog bred primarily to live in people’s homes should be especially capable of enjoying everyday life with comfort and ease.
At the forefront, dogs are companions. Above all else, we should want them to be healthy, stable, and able to live comfortably as good citizens in the homes they were bred to share. We should not want them to suffer for the sake of pride, appearance, or ambition.
The largest market for these dogs will always be pet homes. That is where most of them will live, and that is where their quality of life matters most. While showing can be a wonderful way to celebrate a dog you are proud of, the pursuit of ribbons, titles, or recognition should never come at the expense of health, soundness, or function.
There is nothing wrong with taking pride in a beautiful dog. There is something wrong when the pursuit of prestige becomes more important than the well-being of the animal itself. When the focus shifts too far toward winning, status, or personal gain, it becomes easy to lose sight of what should have been the priority all along: producing dogs that can live well, breathe well, move well, and thrive as beloved companions.
And that brings us to ethics.
One person may argue that breeding outside a traditional standard is unethical. Another may argue that knowingly perpetuating health problems is unethical. And someone else may go even further and say that all brachycephalic or “smushy-faced” breeds are unethical by definition. So where do we draw the line?
That is exactly the question.
If someone believes that any smushy-faced breed is inherently unethical, then that is their argument to make. But if we are going to have an honest conversation about ethics, then we cannot pretend the line is simple or fixed. Is the line color? Ear shape? Ability to whelp naturally? Breathing? Spine health? Hips? Temperament? Mobility? Longevity? Quality of life? If ethics are truly meant to protect dogs, then they should be rooted in reducing suffering and improving function — not just preserving what feels familiar.
That is why ethics cannot be frozen in time.
Ethics evolve when knowledge evolves. They should. If we now have tools that earlier breeders did not have — radiographs, OFA screening, CHIC frameworks, cardiac testing, eye testing, and expanding genetic knowledge — then we have a responsibility to use them. Not because we hate the breed as it was, but because we love it enough to want better for its future.
This is one of the biggest differences between the early history of the breed and where we stand now. Earlier fanciers were making decisions largely based on type, preference, and what they believed best represented the breed. Today, we still care about breed type, but we also have access to far more health information than they ever did. We can look deeper. We can evaluate more. We can stop guessing as much as earlier generations had to.
And once that knowledge exists, we do not get to hide behind nostalgia.
Yes, nostalgia has its place. History matters. Breed identity matters. But if the goal is truly to preserve the French Bulldog, then we have to ask: are we preserving the breed, or are we preserving old ideas that no longer serve it?
That is the real dividing line.
There are ways to evolve without erasing what makes a breed recognizable. The best kind of progress is not reckless change, and it is not stagnation either. It is thoughtful refinement. It is learning how to move with new information the way a river moves around stone — adapting, shaping, and continuing forward without losing its essential course.
That is where modern health and genetic tools have value. They do not have to be used to destroy breed identity. When used responsibly, they can help breeders make more informed decisions about health strengths and weaknesses while still considering type, structure, and temperament. In other words, we do not have to choose between preserving the French Bulldog and improving it. We can do both.
That is what makes this moment so important. We now have more tools than earlier generations ever had. Those tools give us an opportunity to refine rather than simply repeat. They allow us to keep what is most recognizable and beloved about the breed while working to reduce the things that compromise comfort, soundness, and long-term quality of life. That is not betrayal of the breed’s aesthetic. That is stewardship.
And to be fair, not every change is automatically good. History shows us that too. Breeds can be pushed into exaggeration. Trends can reward excess. People can chase novelty, status, or appearance in ways that do not benefit the dog. So this is not an argument for careless change. It is an argument for honest, deliberate, welfare-minded refinement.
That is why this conversation matters so much. The answer is not to stop evolving. The answer is to refine with honesty. Honest about the history. Honest about the standard. Honest about the changes that were embraced and the ones that caused division. Honest about what new science has revealed. Honest about what the breed still struggles with. Honest about which traditions are worth preserving and which ideas may need to be left behind.
To me, the real responsibility is this: take what is best and most recognizable about the French Bulldog, and use every legitimate tool we now have to protect its future. Not to erase the breed. Not to turn it into something else. But to fine-tune it with purpose, humility, and honesty so that future generations can still recognize and love the breed while also seeing a healthier, more functional dog.
The French Bulldog has changed before. People resisted it. People argued about it. People split over it. And yet the breed kept going.
That is why I believe the real danger is not change itself. The real danger is pretending that standing still is noble when standing still is part of the reason the breed continues to struggle.
Preservation is not supposed to mean preserving suffering.
Preservation is not supposed to mean preserving dysfunction.
Preservation is not supposed to mean preserving ideas simply because they are old.
Real preservation protects what is worth keeping and improves what should never have been accepted in the first place.
That is how breeds survive.
That is how breeds get better.
And that is how the French Bulldog deserves to move forward.
If we agree that refinement is needed, then the next question is obvious: what should refinement actually look like?
To me, it does not mean erasing the French Bulldog. It means preserving the breed’s recognizable silhouette and identity while placing more value on the things that matter most to a dog’s quality of life: soundness, breathing, mobility, structure, and verifiable health.
It means being honest about what we are rewarding.
It means asking whether “best of breed” should reflect health as well as appearance.
It means questioning whether a dog that struggles to breathe, move, or function comfortably should ever be held up as the ideal, no matter how closely it matches a traditional visual preference.
Sources:
1. French Bull Dog Club of America, history of the club and breed
2. French Bull Dog Club of America, historical materials on breed standard development and color
3. American Kennel Club, French Bulldog breed history and recognition information
4. Orthopedic Foundation for Animals, OFA history and mission
5. Orthopedic Foundation for Animals, CHIC program and breed-specific health screening framework
Thoughtfully put together by:
Sage Clemons Heather MacPherson
