Toxic Ranks

After more than a decade of reading his eloquent posts, I still follow Rob Redmond. Despite his sometimes caustic tone, there is much truth in what Rob says. Sometimes I think he might be the last truthful man in America.

Just the other day Rob posted something to the effect that karate ranks were essentially meaningless. This was nothing new from Rob and, frankly, after having some detailed arguments with Rob on the subject years ago, I fully agree with his point of view. Karate ranks have no more meaning than ranks in any other pastime: whether it be computer gaming or a community service lodge such as Rotary.  Karate ranks, while being a badge of honor and achievement, do not improve a person's social or professional standing in the "real world" one iota. In fact many people might just consider a person little more than a brutal thug for being interested or participating in a blood sport. Publicly claiming a specific karate rank may in fact hurt you in the "real world" where people hear the word "karate" and think of bloodied ring fighters or prepubescent children in white pajamas.

I was not really shocked by Rob's comment that karate rank was meaningless; I was shocked by the acidic reaction from many, if not most of Rob's readers.  I mean, I can accept some of junior kyu grades still being naïve and defensive over their bunny-eared and treasured belt, but I would have thought anyone over Shodan rank would have figured out the reality of their belt rank by the time they had spent a few years in the dojo. Ranks are achievement ribbons; hard earned by the individual but of no more value than the prizes earned at childhood sports-day outings. Unless you are planning on teaching (or coaching) martial arts as a life-long career, that rank is worth nothing outside the dojo. In fact, considering the miserable state of world wide karate politics, your rank is likely worthless outside your own home dojo.  Go to the dojo across town or across the country and your very special rank diploma becomes little more than expensive but coarse weave toilette paper.

Some of the replies Rob received were barely more than veiled threats of violence: "Go tell Dave Hazard or Scott Langley that their ranks are worthless".  My thought when I read that reply was two-fold: my first thought was that the writer was suggesting one of those two gentlemen would violently reprimand Rob for daring to question the value of their rank while my second thought was that the writer was assuming Mr. Hazard and Mr. Langley held the same juvenile opinion of karate ranks as themselves. I did not see any proof that either of those suggestions was true.

  The other thought I had was that both Mr. Hazard and Mr. Langley both do value their karate rank because, unlike the vast majority of karateka, they actually earn their living as karate instructors.  For those rarified people that are actually professional karate instructors, rank actually does mean something....within very specific bounds.

So exactly where do karate ranks actually count? Let's look at that logically:

1. In the real world? As a business owner and a karateka, I can confidently say that having a black belt in anything would not influence my opinion of a potential employee in the least.  My business does not employ "door men", "bodyguards" or "enforcers", so the ability to physically subdue potential customers does not interest me. While earning a black belt certainly does take some dedication and physical effort, it certainly is no reflection of intelligence, professional capability or management skills.  In fact, in my experience with many black belts (myself included) is that we tend to be slightly obsessive, somewhat self-absorbed, and often quite combative.  While some of these values can benefit a professional, they are hardly key qualities for professional or social advancement.

2. In the karate world?  Do we even need to discuss this?  Everybody knows that rank certificates are rarely honored between affiliates within an association. Ranks are almost never honored between clubs of different associations within the same style (consider the alphabet soup of Shotokan associations alone) and if you change styles, you will almost always be busted back to white belt, even if you can chew-up and spit out the senior sensei of the club without breaking a sweat.

In an addendum to this, black belt ranks are often not honored by the associations that actually awarded them. When the KUGB imploded, many of the high dan ranks were suddenly busted back to kyu grades by the JKA, while Nishiyama himself demoted all Canadian dan ranks during a 6 month fit of anger over some ITKF financial issues. I even heard Mr. Scott Langley had his credentials questioned simply because he had the temerity to publish an autobiographical book without getting the nod from JKS head-office.  How can rank mean anything if the powers that be can snatch that rank back the moment they don't like your politics (or the flavor of your book)?

Of course there is also the other side of the coin: the "signing bonus" dan rank if a leading instructor decides to jump ship and join the competing association.  We have all seen this bizarre little twist: a sudden dan elevation over a short summer when a controversial instructor decides New Generation ITKF is better than Old School ITKF (just as an example).  How seriously can we take Dan ranks if they are held out like carrots on a stick for political favors rendered?

3. In self-defense? I don't want to address this in the least. The most dangerous men I have ever met were untrained sociopaths who would smile one moment and kill you the next. We have all met dan ranked karateka who could dance like the devil on the dojo floor and would pee themselves in fear if anyone ever approached them with evil intent outside the dojo. Hell, I have met highly ranked kudansha which fold, spindle and collapse if you give them the slightest pressure in sparring; these athletes are depending on the referee to save their biscuits and often win by forcing a disqualification.

4. In the larger world of martial arts: Judo and jiujutsu think karate ranks are a joke because we don't have to fight for them, MMA thinks karate ranks are a joke because they don't use ranks, and aikido don't think much about us at all because it disturbs their Ki.  Certainly nobody seems to know what our ranks actually mean (and neither do we, really). Some groups seem to assume black belt means "sensei" while other groups just assume it means "registered killer".

5. How about in your own dojo? Nope. I cannot count how many times I have heard someone say that a person earned Shodan based on a "pity-grade". Hell, I have heard that about myself (and it might just be true despite the fact that I spent more time training a the dojo than any three other club members combined in the years I was most active; I'm just not that talented.) I personally have sat through dan gradings where I was practically rolling on the ground laughing at the pitiful performance of a karateka as they graded for a higher dan rank. I once watched a poor middle-aged woman stumble through an abysmal performance of two upper kata and then get literally dismantled in sparring by a kid twenty years her junior.  I personally would have busted her back to about 4th kyu or lower, but she successfully attained Nidan rank that examination. Her dan ranking was all about her personal journey, not my vision of what karate should be.  And that is the point.

Rob Redmond clearly stated that karate ranks have no true value, but he did not say they are worthless. Anyone that has attained a dan level ranking in karate has something to be proud of because it represents years of hard work and dedication. We should all be proud of our dan rankings, but not one of us should have it appear on our resume or expect it to carry any weight outside our own dojo (and, depending on who is attending class that day, sometimes not even there). Unfortunately, any mature adult with any degree of common sense will have to admit that his dan rank is comparable to any personal award, including on-line computer game rankings: something to pat yourself on the back about because almost nobody else cares.