The Timeless Troubles of the Martial Arts

PUBLISHED 24 JAN 2026

History Repeats Itself

Every generation of martial artists seems convinced that it is facing unprecedented challenges. Training partners are hard to find. Instructors are chasing money rather than mastery. Grades are pursued more fervently than skill. Styles are criticised as ineffective, outdated, or overly theatrical.

All of this feels distinctly modern. It isn’t.

A closer look at classical martial texts reveals that many of the frustrations we wrestle with today were already troubling warriors centuries ago. The problems that spark heated debates on social media and in dojos worldwide are, in fact, enduring issues that have followed the martial arts for nearly 400 years.

Musashi and the Business of Budo

Miyamoto Musashi, arguably Japan’s most famous swordsman, did not mince his words in The Book of Five Rings. Writing in the early 17th century, Musashi was deeply uneasy about the direction martial training was taking in his lifetime.

“People who make a living as martial artists these days only deal with swordsmanship.”

For Musashi, this narrow focus was a fundamental flaw. The battlefield demanded versatility. A warrior should understand not only the sword, but also the bow, spear, firearm, and unarmed combat. To specialise too deeply in a single discipline was to misunderstand the realities of conflict.

More strikingly, Musashi recognised that martial arts were becoming commercial products. Teachers were selling instruction, tools, and equipment—an early form of merchandising designed to supplement income and attract students. The art, he feared, was being diluted as it was packaged for consumption.

Fast forward to the present day and the parallels are hard to ignore. Many modern dojos operate as businesses. Alongside tuition fees, students are offered uniforms, branded clothing, training aids, certificates, and seminar passes. There is nothing inherently wrong with sustainability—but when revenue becomes the priority, integrity often suffers.

Musashi’s criticism went further. He warned against instructors who favoured spectacle over substance.

“The field of martial arts is particularly rife with flamboyant showmanship, with commercial popularisation and profiteering on the part of both those who teach the science and those who study it… ‘amateuristic martial arts are a source of serious wounds.’”

Flashy movement, dramatic techniques, and theatrical demonstrations might impress an audience, but Musashi questioned their real-world value. His concern mirrors a modern critique often levelled at ineffective or overly stylised systems: if it looks good but doesn’t work under pressure, it’s dangerous.

Old Rivalries, New Labels

In the Wind Scroll of The Book of Five Rings, Musashi critiques other schools directly. He describes systems that have drifted toward performance, costume, and reputation, rather than practical effectiveness. Teachers dressed distinctively, showed off publicly, and profited from their image.

Sound familiar?

Today’s debates between MMA practitioners, self-defence instructors, and traditional martial artists echo these same tensions. Fighters question the legitimacy of classical arts. Traditionalists defend heritage, depth, and philosophy. Musashi would likely recognise the argument instantly.

He also returns to the danger of studying only one aspect of combat. To limit oneself to swordsmanship alone was, in his view, shortsighted. A warrior needed breadth, adaptability, and an understanding of multiple ranges and weapons.

It’s tempting to ask—was Musashi advocating a form of mixed martial arts centuries before the term existed?

“You Often Hear People Disparaging This School…”

Inter-style rivalry is not a modern invention. In Japanese Sword Fighting: Secrets of Solo Training, written by Senen in 1799, we find a familiar complaint:

“You often hear people disparaging this school or criticising that school while failing to realise their own lack of experience.”

The human tendency to defend one’s chosen system while dismissing others has long plagued the martial world. Loyalty hardens into dogma, and curiosity is replaced by criticism. Senen’s observation could easily be posted in an online forum today.

Training Alone: Then and Now

Busy schedules, financial pressures, geography, and family commitments regularly keep modern practitioners away from the dojo. Once again, this is nothing new.

Senen acknowledges that even in 18th-century Japan, many students lacked access to teachers or training partners. Distance, poverty, or circumstance forced them to practise alone. Solo training became a necessity—but one fraught with danger.

Ironically, Secrets of Solo Training exists to help practitioners train independently, yet Senen is unequivocal:

“Frankly, without an instructor, you will never achieve success.”

Today’s home study courses, online videos, and digital academies offer unprecedented access to information. Yet the limitation remains the same. Without in-person correction, mistakes go unnoticed. Bad habits become ingrained. Worse still, techniques are learned without the subtlety required to apply them safely or effectively.

A skilled instructor can see what you cannot feel. Remove that feedback loop, and progress slows—or derails entirely.

Kata, Pressure, and Reality

Senen also warns against over-reliance on kata. In his time, some schools focused exclusively on pre-arranged forms. The result? Practitioners who were unprepared for the chaos of real combat.

A swordsman trained only in kata, he writes, will be shocked in an actual duel. A fight does not unfold according to a memorised sequence.

This criticism resonates strongly today. Dojos that rely solely on forms are often challenged by practitioners of combat sports or reality-based self-defence systems. Without pressure testing, stress inoculation, and resistance, technique remains theoretical.

Senen even includes an illustration of a training pole—a fixed target struck with a sword to develop distance and accuracy. Useful, yes. Sufficient, no.

Just like a punchbag, it cannot move, deceive, or fight back. Training against static objects must eventually give way to training against living, resisting opponents.

Grades, Belts, and Bought Rank

The term “McDojo” may be modern, but the phenomenon is not.  Even in the late 1700s, rank could be bought and did not necessarily reflect ability.

Grades, he argues, should serve as motivation—not as proof of mastery.

They “do not represent the end of your training.”

Any practitioner who has earned a black belt quickly discovers this truth. Rather than an endpoint, it marks the beginning of deeper study. Refinement, growth, and expansion of knowledge lie ahead.

A black belt represents competence, not completion.

False Masters and Inflated Claims

The problem of deceptive instructors also predates the modern era. Teachers exaggerating credentials, inflating their abilities, and misleading students have always existed.

Seventy years ago, Gichin Funakoshi—the founder of Shotokan Karate—issued the same warning. Individuals who overstate their skill and reputation damage both their students and the art itself.

Once again, history repeats.

The Lesson Across the Centuries

The enduring problems of the martial arts are not signs of decline; they are constants of human nature. Ego, money, insecurity, and ambition have always shaped how people teach and train.

What Musashi, Senen, and Funakoshi offer us is not nostalgia, but perspective. The challenges we face today are not new—and neither are the solutions.

Train broadly. Seek honest instruction. Pressure test your skills. Be wary of spectacle, shortcuts, and empty rank. Above all, remember that the path does not end with a certificate, a belt, or a title.

Four hundred years on, the message remains the same.