More than a decade ago, I spoke with someone who ran a prominent organization that raised money to support injured backstretch workers. She spoke frankly about the challenges of her job, admitting that donors were far more likely to contribute to racehorse safety than they were to the people in whose hands their horses’ safety lies, particularly, she said, when those hands are the hands of immigrants.

That experience occurred to me recently after I read Noah Shachtman’s wide-ranging, nearly 4500-word guest essay in The New York Times last month. Shachtman took dead aim at the horse-racing industry, critiquing its financial structure, the dwindling attention paid to the sport, and the toll racing takes on both horses and humans. 

The essay sparked predictably heated conversations and a flurry of racing industry responses, responses that were notable both for their fury and for their unfortunate failure to address one of Schachtman’s primary criticisms: the experiences of those who work on the backstretch.

Industry and social media responses hit most of the usual talking points. There were the irrelevancies. For example, The Times never says anything positive about horseracing (I guess the critics missed this, and this, and this, among others). Or that the author isn’t credible (he made an ethical error in judgment as an editor at Rolling Stone, he messed up some nomenclature, he had the temerity to take issue with the antiquated term “horsemen” to identify trainers and owners). 

The responses also hit the mark in some areas. Horse racing and breeding are major economic drivers (which Shachtman acknowledges). The sport has made substantial progress in reducing equine fatalities in recent years (also something Shachtman acknowledges). 

What those responses, from Light Up Racing, the Paulick Report, and BloodHorse, almost completely ignore are the appalling ways in which backstretch workers are sometimes treated, something highlighted by Shachtman in his article. (Disclosure: BloodHorse is one of my major freelance clients.)

Shachtman relates two vivid stories about backstretch workers that comprise nearly one-fifth of his essay. One focuses on a New York worker whose wages are unstable and whose living conditions sound deplorable. 

The other details the experiences of a woman who’s worked on the backstretch for 21 years. After she was injured by a horse during working hours, she was fired, she said. According to the story, when she contacted her employer about her injury and concerns about expenses, the employer (not a trainer, but a foreman or assistant) “insulted her and threatened to send her and her family back to Guatemala.”

Shachtman also discussed the well-known instances of trainers being charged with labor violations for improperly paying grooms and hotwalkers and the lack of safety measures for grooms who travel in vans with horses. 

Light Up Racing wrote a 926-word letter to the Times challenging the article’s assertions. Nearly 300 of those words focused on what it sees as the sport’s thriving economic outlook. Another 128 words detailed investments in improving equine safety. 

How many words did Light Up Racing devote to backstretch workers? Zero. 

None. Not a single mention of the people without whom the sport wouldn’t exist, the people who care for horses with devotion and commitment. Not a single critique of how backstretch workers are treated or the threatening, xenophobic text from powerful employer to vulnerable employee.

The Paulick Report’s rebuttal clocked in just shy of 800 words, of which 30 were devoted to backstretch workers, conceding that “both the working and living conditions for the people who care for the horses” need attention.   

The BloodHorse article took the strongest stance of the three responses, but only 43 of its nearly 1,500 words addressed the problem. “[B]ackstretch workers need to be treated fairly and in instances where they haven’t been, sanctions should be imposed on offenders and, if needed, changes to the law should follow,” the magazine asserted.   

Other reactions posted on social media sites protest that the majority of backstretch workers are treated well and fairly, receiving healthcare and living rent-free, sometimes in recently-constructed dorms, and that Schactman’s examples are the exception rather than the rule. 

Perhaps that’s true; I’ve had conversations with grooms and hotwalkers who’ve told me that they love what they do and wouldn’t want to live any other way. 

Others have hesitated to talk to me, concerned that voicing their dissatisfaction would lead to retaliation and a loss of employment. 

Several women have told me that they’ve been sexually assaulted but refuse to come forward because they fear that they’ll become a target of additional abuse and be ostracized from the industry. 

And even if such treatment is rare, surely it warrants our attention, as much attention, at least, as critics of the article gave to economics and equine safety.

The critiques to Schachtman’s article pretty much unanimously focus on how much the racing industry has invested in its product and its facilities, and on how many improvements have been made to improve equine safety. Unfortunately, those same critiques neither mention nor call for the same commitment to improving the lives of the most financially insecure, the most at risk. 

Rather than getting angry at Shactman for revealing ugly truths, the industry should channel that fervor into taking a stand against the intolerable, shameful treatment of the sport’s most vulnerable.