March 24, 2025 
Dani Waldman tackles tough topics on her YouTube show, Horse Bytes.
This season, the former international show jumper for Israel didn’t shy away from pressing issues, among them: oversaturation and dilution in show jumping, the optics of horse welfare, the financial inequalities inherent in purchasing horses, and more.
On her latest episode, Waldman has the thorny topic of meritocracy in her sights, asking viewers, “Is show jumping truly a sport, or is it destined to remain a veritable hobby?”
She continued, “I want to believe that talent and hard work will aways prevail, but I have seen firsthand how money trumps effort at a systematic level.”
Waldman cited the example of the Paris Olympic Games. While three of the sport’s top riders—Christian Kukuk (GER), Steve Guerdat (SUI), and Maikel van der Vleuten (NED)—topped the individual podium, she noted, “We also saw someone with seemingly unlimited resources outperform his more experienced teammates.”
The thinly veiled reference to the USA’s Karl Cook and Caracole De la Roque is used as evidence for Waldman’s point that financial regulations might ease the merit gap, including price caps on 5* horses to help level the playing field.
Waldman goes on to say that most people in the industry are struggling, and few are working to change the culture. “With exclusivity and success so heavily tied to the quality of the horse one can afford, the sport feels less like an athletic competition, and more like patronage: wealthy backers funding a performance rather than pure competition based on merit.”
It’s an interesting question, to be sure, and one worth pondering. Polo may be “the sport of kings,” but show jumping is the passion of lesser royals and Silicon Valley billionaire scions—and it’s always been that way.
On its face, I agree with Waldman’s point that simply paying to play—essentially buying your Olympic gold medal when you purchase the best horse in the world—has the potential to dim the top sport’s excitement for all of us. However, the question of meritocracy extends a lot further than the 5* level.
As a starting point, the patronage metaphor, while interesting, doesn’t quite fit.
The Medici Family, for instance, patronized Botticelli, Leonardo da Vinci, and Michealangelo in the hopes that the art and paintings they created would carry the family’s name into new millennia. (Historical footnote: it worked).
But the artists still had to create the art.
Karl Cook and Caracole may have helped Team USA to a silver medal, but the sport is littered with similar “patronage” examples which, for various reasons, didn’t quite pan out.
Anna Kellnerová (CZE) purchased Laura Klaphake’s (GER) career-making partner Catch Me If You Can for more than $8.7 million, but they didn’t climb a podium in a class bigger than 1.45m. Athina Onassis (GRE) bought Greg Broderick’s (IRE) Olympic partner MHS Going Global for $12 million and never won a single international class.
In other words, sure, rich patrons with the horsepower can jump their way into the sport’s most desirable arenas, but that doesn’t mean their partnership will produce The Mona Lisa.
You could argue too, that a strong rebuttal against the ‘patronage’ argument can be found in an earlier segment of Waldman’s episode. That clip featured an interview with U.S. rider Lillie Keenan, who described her own surprise while watching the HeadFirst Group Prize – Best of Champions class at recent The Dutch Masters in ‘s-Hertogenbosch (NED).
In the class, four, 5* riders—World No. 1 Henrik von Eckermann (SWE), Willem Greve (NED), Philipp Weishaupt (GER), and Maikel van der Vleuten (NED)—switched horses over various rounds, then competed a jump-off on their own horses.
“I was really stunned by the results of it,” Keenan admitted. “Some of the riders that I expected to really match certain horses I was completely wrong [about]. I think that’s really the beauty of our sport, and why, when you try a horse, you have to really think, Is it a match for me?
“Some of the best horses in the world [are] that way because they’ve found the right partner. I think there are also some horses that we maybe we watch, and think are so incredible, and we’d love to ride, but actually they might not match [us].”
In other words, while you may have the cash to purchase a proven 1.60m+ champion, there’s no guarantee that you can actually ride it. And Keenan was referring to the sport’s best.
Once-in-a-lifetime partnerships with horses are not unlike gourmet dining: A good horse can get you on the Michelin-recommended list, but you’ll never land those three, coveted stars without first seasoning your dishes to perfection and having that extra je ne sais quois.
As a solution to the ‘merit conundrum,’ Waldman floats the question of price caps for 5* horses. The idea being that a max, say, $1-million purchase price for a horse capable of jumping at the championship level might deter breeders and producers from simply selling their best horses off to the highest bidder. Hence, more of the world’s most gifted horses could stay with the hard-working, talented riders that helped to produce them.
It’s a lovely thought. And yet, after the rainbows and butterflies depart, we’re left with the immediate question of who, if not money, would ultimately have the power to determine “merit” in the sport, and what qualifies?
Maybe the new regime would be populated by Deborah Mayers, who build-up women in show jumping through the Iron Dames project, awarding scads of $1 million horses to skilled, hardworking female riders who might otherwise be overlooked. Amazing!
But then, for every ‘deserving’ athlete that earns a 5* phenom, there is also the potential to elevate the duds.
Maybe the next United Touch S breeder’s best pal is a top-ranked rider who produces exceptional results from his young horses during the week. But what if he’s also credibly accused of beating his girlfriend at the horse show hotel on the weekends? Would that fact be disqualifying?
And an even bigger question, is, why stop at the 5* level?
I’m fortunate enough to compete in the amateur jumper divisions at rated horse shows, but given the high price of training, travel, and competition, I can only afford to jump my single horse at fewer than 10 events a year. Weekend after weekend, I compete against fellow amateurs, sometimes juniors, with two or three horses in my height division, and often the same number to compete on in the next division up.
I’ll always be at a disadvantage against riders with two to three more chances to get their speed course right on their first try (not to mention many more practice and horse show rounds—one horse only has so many jumps!).
In the same way, I will always have the clear advantage over the amateur rider who competes on a leased horse at the local horse show circuits because the horse she can afford can’t get down the lines in the rated division… and on it goes.
I work on my fitness; I train hard at the farm as often as I can, despite having a writing job and young children at home. I have no doubts about my own merit in the pursuit of the sport that I love. But can I honestly say the rider/mom/professional with the budget for three horses in my division has less merit than I do? In the same way, can anyone prove that the rider with the $10 million horse shopping budget loves the sport any less than the next hungry competitor?
What I do know is, I, personally, blanch at the suggestion that I work this hard to support a “veritable hobby.” Is the inherent inequality in show jumping a significant issue? Absolutely. Is it worse than in most other athletics? Yes. Does that make show jumping any less of a sport? Absolutely not.
Whether you’re a parent setting aside your pennies to buying polo mallets or hockey sticks for your kid, sports of all stripes suffer from some degree of inequality, and always will. So, by the way, does life.
Dani Waldman says she rode 15 horses a day as a junior, both catch rides and horses she owned. That kind of early access and training was likely invaluable to her development as an athlete who eventually rode at the top of the sport, traveling the globe, and bringing home six (!) 5* Grand Prix titles over the course of her career.
That’s a tremendous accomplishment, by any standard. And the path to get there is also wildly out of reach for the vast majority of juniors dreaming of long-term success in this industry.
Can owning a Caracole, a Foxy de La Roque, or a Zineday be a strong predictor of success in our sport? To be sure. But it’s by no means a guarantee. As for the very small, 0.05% pool of globetrotting, 5* competitors with the wealth and chops to realistically covet such a unicorn, my prediction is, a price cap won’t offer a solution to your problems, it will be the start of them.
