10/27/2026
A good article...
WHEN FIGHTING BECAME A SPORT, DID WE FORGET WHAT SELF-DEFENSE MEANS?
Over the past thirty-three years, the American public has witnessed a remarkable transformation in how we (claim to) understand "fighting; " since the arrival of the Ultimate Fighting Championship in 1993, mixed martial arts has grown from a controversial spectacle into a respected professional sport. Along the way, it has exposed ineffective training practices, challenged longstanding martial arts assumptions, and demonstrated the tremendous value of training against genuinely resisting opponents—and these are incredibly important and positive things.
(Even prior to the rise of MMA, American boxing fans would often attempt to emulate what they watched when fighting in the proverbial streets)
But somewhere along the way, we've developed a rather peculiar understanding of what makes someone capable of actually defending themselves; today, when a martial artist shares knowledge or demonstrates technique, the response is very-often in the form of "well, what's their fight record?" And if there's no amateur or professional record to be found on Sherdog, the individual is dismissed by the armchair warriors as fake or fraudulent.
(As though the ability to survive violence must somehow be established through a professional competition record! My God, how ever did anyone defend themselves in the centuries before MMA came long?!?)
I've had the privilege of training with two military-trained operatives (one of whom is a former Navy SEAL with some ghosts in his ear); neither of them held any fighting record (unless you count classified mission details). Yet, in any scenario in which there may be violence, I'd count on these two in a half-heartbeat.
There are thousands of highly-trained fighters within the branches of the United States Armed Forces; additionally, there have been GENERATIONS of military combat specialists, law enforcement professionals, or generations of individuals who successfully defended themselves against violence, most of them with no fight record and no mention on Sherdog to validate their abilities.
It's a strange standard, when you think about it—and it (unfortunately) reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of the difference between "fighting" as a sport and fighting for self-preservation or combat.
Kenpo videos online are inundated with comments along the theme of "that'll never work in the cage." But, do you know what else won't work in the cage? A knife. A gun. A best buddy, hopped up on co***ne, caving your head in while your opponent is in your guard. The angry girlfriend of the guy you're grappling with kicking your ribs while wearing heels. Why? BECAUSE THEY'RE NOT ALLOWED AS PART OF A CONTROLLED ENVIRONMENT WITH RULES AND STRICT SAFETY MEASURES!
Consider what happens inside a professional fighting arena: two trained competitors voluntarily agree to engage one another; they know when the confrontation will begin, and they fully understand the rules, recognize the boundaries, and have prepared for an opponent operating within a relatively predictable framework. Within this setting, there are weight classes, referees, prohibited techniques, medical personnel, and clearly defined conditions for victory.
I do not point this out to disparage any combat sport athlete; none of this makes their accomplishments any less impressive. Professional fighters are extraordinary athletes, possessing physical and psychological attributes that most people will never develop.
However, their objective is to defeat an opponent within an established set of conditions, with no worry of violent escalation or force multipliers. Meanwhile, personal combatives (including self-preservation, self-defense and freestyle fighting) presents an entirely different problem. There is often zero warning beforehand, no agreement to participate, no assurance of a single attacker, and certainly no guarantee that an aggressor will respect any particular rules. It is wildly-unpredictable in how quickly it can escalate and no limit to the level of violence that may potentially occur.
The objective isn't necessarily to defeat someone, it is to simply survive! To recognize danger, avoid it when possible, protect yourself when necessary, and go home afterward to your loved ones, alive and healthy.
Let me be clear: WHILE BEING SKILLED AT ONE-ON-ONE FIGHTING IS CERTAINLY AN ADVANTAGE IN SELF-DEFENSE, IT IS NOT AN AUTOMATIC SOLUTION FOR EVERY POTENTIAL PROBLEM THAT VIOLENCE PRESENTS.
And conversely, the absence of a competition record does not automatically mean someone lacks the ability to protect themselves.
Here's a paradox I've always found fascinating: ask an aspiring marksman to spend countless hours practicing breathing, trigger control, sight alignment, and dry-fire exercises; he'll understand completely and comply fully, as he understands that proficiency with a fi***rm requires developing countless individual skills, many of which must be practiced independently of actually firing a weapon.
And there's no one seriously standing around and arguing that dry-fire practice is worthless because there isn't a live round leaving the barrel, no one's stating that the breathing exercises are meaningless because the shooter isn't actively engaging a target. These are obviously individual exercises designed to develop vital attributes that contribute to superior marksmanship!
Yet introduce certain martial arts exercises that don't involve striking focus mitts, hitting heavy bags, or sparring, and suddenly that same understanding disappears, replaced by an illogical double standard! Exercises intended to develop balance, structural alignment, coordination, efficient movement, or precise muscular control are sometimes dismissed simply because they don't resemble a fight.
Why? We don't expect every exercise in a football practice session to look like an actual football game, any more than we expect every aspect of fi***rms training to involve exchanging gunfire. So why, then, have we become so blindly-insistent that every worthwhile martial arts exercise must resemble a competitive fight?
At this point, I must make an important distinction: isolated exercises must ultimately demonstrate that their benefits transfer into actual performance. Dry-fire practice is valuable because its skills can be tested through live shooting; likewise, martial arts drills should be judged by whether the attributes they develop remain useful against resistance, uncertainty, and pressure.
ARE WE GENUINELY DEVELOPING THE ABILITY TO PROTECT OURSELVES, OR ARE WE SIMPLY BECOMING PROFICIENT AT PERFORMING MARTIAL ARTS?
There is a difference...YES, memorizing techniques, earning rank, performing impressive demonstrations, and understanding complex principles can all be meaningful parts of martial arts education. But none of them, by themselves, establishes the ability to function under the stress of real violence. If our training never addresses resistance, unpredictability, fear, physical pressure, and the possibility that our preferred techniques may fail, we have no business assuming that our abilities are sufficient for self-preservation—and we as Kenpoists must be willing to confront that reality.
BUT, the combat sports community should be equally willing to acknowledge that not every skill necessary for personal protection can be measured through competitive performance.
My concern isn't that mixed martial arts has become popular, but rather that we've allowed the popularity of competitive fighting to increasingly define what society believes martial arts are supposed to accomplish. And in that, we risk losing the vital understanding of the true purpose of the martial arts: Self-Preservation and Self-Improvement.
—JC
