It is incumbent on those who teach that they deliver the content, if this is not possible, then don’t teach. When attending a guitar lesson, one correctly expects that the teacher will have guitars available. Teaching air guitar chords and scales will not attest to learning to play a real guitar. This we can agree on, then why give credibility to dead-pattern martial arts that profess to teach martial arts / self-defence / fighting without the daily physical test of training with resisting opponents? …a real guitar.
In the days when training opportunities were limited, I spent a considerable amount of time marching up and down karate halls, doing pre-rehearsed forms that were supposedly imitating deadly fighting techniques. During these moments of martial arts purgatory, I would constantly look up at the clock usually hoping for two things; for this stultifying session to end or for the teacher to end the session early in the hope that we would spar or actually learn something about the art of fighting. The latter hardly happened – quite clearly, we needed to spent more time in martial arts purgatory.
In the training schools I came across, the art of fighting for many karate-ka is a distant planet, positioned far away from their minds. This is best illustrated by an incident I can recall from a yearly mandatory event, the instructors gasshuku (staying together / training camp) – a weekend of regular karate-type training that more resembled self-flagellation than a martial art. At the conclusion of these training camps, a general meeting would usually took place, this was used as an occasion where the chief instructor promulgated the latest dictum that set the tone for the meeting. A firm favourite being: “any nail that sticks out gets hammered down” – deru kugi wa utareru (occidentals love quoting Japanese phrases when it best suits them) – a clear indication that individual thinking was frowned upon. During these gatherings, the floor would occasionally open for comments, to suggest a small measure of transparency. On this particular occasion a question was put forward, “What makes a good Black Belt?” The guru in chief stood with pen poised before the audience of now incredulous black belts (probably nervous about applying some introspection of their own skill and ability)
The usual yes-men were asked first; the answers ranged from: “Arrive early for class”, to “collect the fees on time”, and someone even suggested, “make sure a seam is ironed down the centre of your gi pants” (Sadly, I am not making this up), these regurgitated answers soon filled the whiteboard. My hand had been hovering in the air for some time now, similar to a helicopter laden with life-saving supplies waiting for it’s turn to land in some drought-ravaged country. The Absolute Ruler finally looks at me and nods imperceptibly to indicate approval for me to talk; “Can he fight?” being my succinct contribution. Silence ensued from the confused masses and this was followed by a collection of disbelieving eyes staring at me as if I had just dropped the last keg of whiskey during prohibition. A further pause evolved, and then quite miraculously as if he had been struck by an epiphany “Umm, yes” he answered in his mustachioed military vernacular. The comment was placed near the bottom, more as an afterthought.
And that basically summed up traditional karate – it had the ability of inhibiting any opportunity of developing a fighting IQ and an efficient method of self-defence or fighting.
(Names and organization have been omitted to protect the embarrassed)
“Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.”
Mike Tyson