Karate Is Not A Science by Rob Redmond
It doesn’t require a lot of searching through Karate books or Internet sites to find a statement that Karate is both art and science, or that Karate is scientific. No matter what style of Karate any of us may study, one thing is very clear to me: There is absolutely nothing scientific about Karate. In fact, I will even go so far as to say that calling Karate a science is like saying the Earth is flat. Normally I would soften my opinion with a phrase like “I believe,” or “I feel,” but I don’t think that is appropriate here. Karate is not a science. In fact, Karate is almost a perfect example of everything that a science is not.
A science is a collected body of knowledge which has been gathered and tested using the scientific method. The method is relatively simple to describe. A scientist wonders whether or not something is true. He proposes a hypothesis, which is a statement of speculation, and he sets up a test to determine if the evidence shows it to be true or not. He then publishes the results of his test as well as the methods that he used to obtain his results.
The published study is then critiqued by his peers in his field of scientific endeavor. They point out any flaws in the way that the test was performed, the analysis was completed, or the results were tabulated. They will also try to perform their own tests using the same methods to see if they get the same results. Other scientists will also perform modified tests to check for flaws and errors in the original study.
This process is relatively simple to describe at a high level, but extremely tedious to actually engage in. It requires a very analytical and detached mindset, a willingness to go to extreme depth of detail in describing and defending an idea, and a recognition that the peer review process allows the body of knowledge to be increased in a slow, careful, and cautious manner so that misinformation and passionately held but incorrect beliefs are not allowed to be adopted.
While Karate might be argued to be a body of knowledge, it certainly was not created using anything approaching scientific methods. The technical methods were conceived of by individuals who merely preferred them, modified based on personal beliefs, and the body of knowledge is kept not by those interested in peer review, but by people who hold it as tradition that the knowledge and those that have it shall not be questioned or challenged by their peers.
In fact, I would even argue that Karate is not a body of knowledge, but rather it is a body of opinion. After all, I know of no one who has taken a group of people, divided the group in half at random, trained one half in boxing, another group in Karate, and then used objective criteria to test the training and performance methods against each other for effectiveness. Such a study is typical in a scientific endeavor. In Karate, it is unthinkable and no such thing has ever been undertaken.
The few studies that have been performed on Karate are, well, there is no tactful way to say it. They are entertaining, but from the perspective of a professional researcher, they are quite pathetic. Tiny groups of people who are advocates for Karate are compared to one another without any accounting for physiological or other individual differences. No random or evenly skewed control groups are ever used. And, most importantly, studies performed seem not be real science, where an idea is truly being questioned. Instead, justifications for dearly held beliefs are sought by those performing the studies.
That is not science. That is rationalization. It is excuse-making for the traditions of Karate. Were Karate a scientific endeavor, we would seek to discover whether or not punching from the waist with a turning motion was actually superior to simply punching from a boxing guard for generating a devastating impact. We could test this by taking hundreds of Karate experts within a certain physiological range and compare them to a similar sized group of boxers with similar experience and physiological characteristics. We could then have them punch into a device which would measure some output from their techniques, whether it is force, impulse, momentum transfer, or whatever.
Such a study would be fascinating. We could then take those results and say, “People on average punch more powerfully using method A by a margin of X.” The margin would tell us if there was a significant difference between the training methods in terms of results in the real world. Others could read our study, criticize it, and suggest improvements, and we could try it again. Our friends could put together their own studies and see if they come up with the same results.
Karate would definitely be a science if, after finding out that a different method of punching was superior through repeated and careful testing, we stopped using our old method, and adopted the one that science had shown us provided more benefit at lower cost. But let’s be realistic. No one in the Karate community is going to stop doing his Karate techniques the way he prefers, even if such a study were made available.
That is one of many reasons that Karate is not a science.
Karate was not developed using experiments to determine the best methods. No crucible was formed upon which ideas were either shown strong and resilient to challenge or fragile and impossible to defend. Karate was invented from whole cloth, one step at a time, one person at a time, and the supposed science used to examine it was done after the fact as a way of justifying various concepts such as belt ranks being indicative of skill or punching from the waist generating useful force.
Karate was invented and then justified, not experimented with and then invented. Some might point out that something akin to the scientific method was used over generations as the Chinese and later the Okinawans adopted ideas over time via their own personal experience and private experiments during hand to hand combat. I don’t believe that is a very good example of scientific research for a number of reasons.
Even if I am willing to ignore the fact that in those Asian cultures where Karate was born the elderly wise men who were considered masters of the art were never questioned or challenged by their students and rarely did anything resembling real hand to hand combat, I cannot ignore that private, personal experience only works for the person doing it.
My experience may not translate out to other people. And even if it did, we would need to test that and challenge that idea. If you are curious as to how popular it is in any Shotokan Karate dojo to challenge commonly held ideas, just announce to everyone that you read this web site regularly and agree with most of what is written here. You will receive your confirmation that dissent is not entirely welcome in short order, I assure you.
Consider all of the untested assumptions in Karate practice that are based merely on tradition and have nothing to do with scientific research. The kata are purely a tradition, and no evidence exists that they are even a healthy exercise much less effective for developing mental or physical skills in fighting. We’d like to believe its true, but show me the tested evidence, the studies, the methods use, and the results. Show me the large, random samples of Karate experts tested against control groups who did other exercises or martial arts and let’s see if Karate’s kata really hold up as a comparably good exercise and developer of body and mind. Maybe they are too anaerobic to be really healthy for exercise and lacking in resistance for the building of strength. Maybe they only help mental acuity as an exercise while you are learning new ones, and repeating old ones just allows the mind to shut down and stagnate as if watching TV. There are a ton of possibilities, and the benefits of kata are just one of hundreds of possible scientific studies that could be performed to test the value of various aspects of Karate training.
Would we acknowledge these results if they were put before us? How many Karate experts are willing to consider a different opinion from theirs in a speculative article about tensing muscles on impact? When I consider the number of people who read the article about the myth of focus on this web site, and how few actually agreed with it and thought, “That makes perfect sense. I should modify my practice,” I chuckle with the knowledge, the firm, unshakable knowledge, that Karate is no science.
It is a system of faith, belief, tradition, and custom. It is perhaps best described as a craft. The idea that Karate is a science is trotted out every now and then by someone who is very passionate about their personal hobby and wants other people to feel passionate about it as well. It is a very complimentary thing to say about Karate practice - that it is scientific. It makes it sound as though our methods were developed in a laboratory and all other systems of Karate must acknowledge that we have been proven to do things better.
But the reality is that when someone says Karate and science in a sentence without saying the words “is not,” that person is wrong. That doesn’t mean that something is wrong with your Karate practice. The only thing I take away from it is that I must acknowledge and recognize that the beliefs I have about what makes up good Karate are just that: beliefs. The strongest evidence I can get my hands on for any particular practice is either my personal experience or logical reasoning. No physical, tested, objective evidence exists. That’s why, when you read my site, you are reading editorial after editorial. Just about anything written on Karate is necessarily little more than an editorial. The only “facts” that exist on the topic are perhaps the recent history of the art, to a small extent anyway, and the names of various practices we engage in. How they work and whether or not they work well is little more than speculation supported by reasoning which may or may not be logical.
Everything else we do is up for grabs - merely our rational, or irrational, beliefs.
Karate Is Still Not A Science by Rob Redmond
The article “Karate is Not A Science” has generated quite a bit of feedback. Some are not convinced Karate is not a science, and some are willing to concede it isn’t exactly a science, but they are still clinging to the idea that somehow there was drive-by science involved in its development. I wanted to revisit this topic and explain why it is so important that we understand our Karate is not based in Science but instead in belief.
Some of the readers have commented that while Karate is not developed in a laboratory by men in white coats looking through microscopes, that it is still created using empirical methods, and therefore has at least some basis in science. If only that were true. But it isn’t.
This fallacious argument is made, I believe, as a way of somehow lending particular credibility to a particular style of performing Karate. Sure, I used to buy into this argument myself when faced with someone doing Tae Kwon Do or some other style. When they asked me why we did things a particular way, I’d arrogantly pronounce Shotokan a scientifically researched and designed martial art whereas TKD was the product of Koreans learning Shotokan for six weeks after being conscripted by the occupying Japanese army. But I was wrong about that.Where did I get that idea? From various Karate books, of course, written by Japanese instructors who loved to write about how Karate was being developed scientifically, and who published interesting, scientific-looking data in the backs of their books with graphs and supposed empirical research.
Since then, I have come to realize that Karate is not a science, and wasn’t developed empirically. It is a tradition, a craft, an art. It is mostly a connected series of decisions about how to best handle a set of variables. But an entirely different set of decisions could have been made with equal validity. This is what makes Karate art instead of science.
But why can’t we at least say that it was studied and refined using empirical methods? Various methods of performing Karate techniques were not tested, the various outcomes were not measured, and the best way of performing a technique was not documented through evidence and then adopted. In fact, almost exactly the opposite happened.
One method of performing a technique was adopted because the revered instructor ordered it be adopted, and it was rarely if ever tested against anything resembling a human body, the evidence for its effectiveness was not documented, and today, various people perform the punch in significantly different ways using entirely different methodologies within the same style of Karate - indicating that there is no “best practice,” no documented knowledge of how to perform one best, and little more than supposition as to what might work.
The problem with Karate techniques is that they do not exist in a vacuum. You can say, “Punch like this to deliver the most force,” and someone else will say, “No, that method leaves you vulnerable to attack. Punch this way and get enough force but some protection.”
And yet another person will say, “No, that first way does not produce extra force. It produces enough to break some boards, but you would be more powerful against a human doing this instead.”
And yet another will say, “You are all three wrong. Punching like that is for punching the air, not for punching a person, and trying to develop self-protection while punching is pointless.”
To complicate the issue even further, none of these people have any measurements of how much force is generated, and no outside way of observing how much force is generated. They don’t even have the ability to determine whether or not force is what they ought to be using as a measurement of an effective punch. They cannot even agree that punches should first and foremost be strong.
That is not science. That is the very definition of an art. I can hit a board and see it break. Someone can coach me to punch a particular way, and I can break the board more easily. But your jaw is not a board, and were I to try to punch you in the jaw, the results are not exactly predicted by the board, and I cannot be sure that I used the best method, even if my attempt to break your jaw was successful.
Should I be trying to break your jaw at all? I don’t know. Maybe the punch would be more effective, meaning that it would be more disabling of an attacker, if instead of breaking the jaw I simply impacted the jaw with less force, causing perhaps more immediate pain and less chance the attacker would be stunned into numbness.
These sorts of variables and unknowns - these are the hallmarks of something that is not a science and not developed scientifically. I want to be clear about this, because so many Karate instructors and famous authors have claimed that Karate was refined using scientific methods.
Karate is absolutely not a science. In fact, I cannot see any signs of science in Karate’s development at all. Goju and Shotokan practitioners cannot even agree on where the draw hand goes on the body. They cannot agree on the best method for developing an effective punch. And Shotokan practitioners do not agree on whether or not using tension at the end of a technique is effective or debilitating but protecting of joints. I think that no science or empirical research at all went into the development of the Karate product. There is not even a unified Karate product to observe and say “This was our result.”
Karate was developed and refined through various people’s differing opinions, speculations, beliefs, superstitions, misunderstandings, and traditions. It was toyed with repeatedly, but I don’t think you can call one guy’s experimenting with possibly doing things a little differently empirical research. If that were empirical, then you would also have to confess that my beliefs about tension at the end of the technique being counter-productive were developed through empirical means.
I used nothing but reasoning to come to that conclusion. I did not experiment. I don’t have a radar gun to punch into to measure the speed of my punches. I was not able to determine what delivered the most force, and couldn’t even tell you for certain if force is even the right thing to measure in this case.
Karate is art. Pure and simple. The evidence says it is an art, the product varies from person to person like an art.
Unless you can tell me how many foot-pounds of pressure, how many joules, or how much acceleration, or even how much speed you tend to generate, then do not think that any science is involved. Without data, there is no science, and there is no data. Think about that. There is no data at all. None. There isn’t even agreement on a goal we should be gathering data about.
Until you can show a unified best practice, there is no evidence of authentic research and development. Without any evidence as to what works, people will adopt preferred methods based on their beliefs rather than evidence. Without evidence, there is no empirical research.
It’s an art, a craft, a sport, a method of exercise, a hand to hand combat method… Karate is a lot of things, but it is not a science.
Now, to the real question. Why do I care whether or not people say Karate is a science? This is the really the most important point in this entire discussion. It is because when Karate practitioners believe that their particular methods are somehow proven out to be conclusively the “proper way” or “best way” that they begin to develop style bigotry. They begin to think that Shotokan is better than Goju-Ryu, or that Olympic TKD is foolish nonsense whereas the World Shoto Cup is where the sun rises.
This sort of style-centric thinking retards our development. We find ourselves preferring our own methods, eschewing the methods of others, and locking ourselves in a virtual closet, refusing to listen to reason from anyone else.
But when Karate is art, when we think of it as an art… let me be more aggressive in that statement… when we realize the truth that Karate is definitely not scientific at all but is art the same way music is art, we can get together with other people and listen to them instead of simply impatiently waiting to explain to them why our way works better and how scientific it is. We become open to the fact that other arts are equally valid for their own reasoning and approach to the same problem.
SHU/mamo(ru) – (verb) to protect; to obey.
HA/yabu(ru) – (verb) to tear; to rip; to break.
RI/hana(reru) – (verb) to separate; to leave.
Karate development is a maturation process. And that second step, where we begin to express our independence without yet going so far as to be creative, is when we look over the fence and say, “That kata Sepai those Goju guys do is pretty cool. Hey, can you show me that?”
Like musicians, we can share our songs with one another. We can learn each other’s methods. We can get together and expand our understanding, widen our perception of what is valid, and by opening ourselves to possibilities, we mature, make new and interesting friends, and leave behind the comfortable dogmatism that protects our egos from things we are afraid of, such as the fact that our Karate is not any better than anyone else’s.
Footnote by Mark Kupsz
Whilst I respect the views of the author I would add that having a background in science as I do. I have a personal interest in the physics of karate and feel that scientific principles can be applied to actions common in karate such as kicks, punches and blocks. This study has led me to a deeper understanding of technique, which, in turn has allowed me to explain things more clearly to my students and perform with greater speed, power and effectiveness. For those that want to examine this point in more detail please read the article “The Physics Of Effective Techniques” also by Rob Redmond.
I would advocate that there is more than one pathway to ‘understanding’ karate and people should be prepared to explore all avenues in an attempt to achieve this. To this end I would rather believe in truths that are a) tangible b) proven c) measurable rather than esoteric and dare I say it, mystical and ignorant rhetoric such as that which surrounds subjects like ‘Ki in karate’ To believe in such seems to me no more than an act of faith and defies any logical or scientific explanation.
Regarding ‘ki in karate’ my opinions are reflected in the article “I Do Not Believe In Ki”, also written by Rob Redmond.
