To the clueless observer, combat sports consist of two punch-drunk meatheads trading blows until one is too concussed to go on. The suggestion that such violence is guided by any strategy, let alone centuries of reflection from competing schools of thought, seems ridiculous.
Nonetheless, viewing combat as a barbaric enterprise neglects the deep intellectual roots of martial arts.
By now, most Americans are familiar with MMA, or mixed martial arts, which is commonly associated (but not synonymous) with the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC). Locked in a thirty-foot cage, fighters blend various striking and grappling disciplines in an effort to outsmart and ultimately force opponents into submission.
Done right, fighting is complex, high-stakes problem-solving.
The clearest demonstration of this fact is Brazilian jiu-jitsu (BJJ), a martial art dealing mainly with ground fighting.
Jiu-jitsu calls on principles of anatomy and biomechanics to control, manipulate and, if necessary, damage the human body. It originates from Japanese schools of military combat and has evolved over centuries into a first-rate means of self-defense.
In the early 1900s, jiu-jitsu migrated to Brazil, where it was revolutionized by the legendary Gracie family.
Helio Gracie, a founder of modern jiu-jitsu, weighed only 140 pounds, yet he easily defeated larger opponents across fighting disciplines, including boxing, wrestling and judo (I challenge anyone who denies this to take one jiu jitsu class and grapple with any non-white belt).
Moreover, jiu-jitsu specialists dominated the early stages of the UFC, shattering the widespread belief in striking as the superior form of combat.
Such outcomes arose not from luck, nor athletic advantage, but from an intelligent method that turns hand-to-hand combat from a coin flip to an all-but-assured victory.
Skilled jiu-jitsu athletes are masters of physics, applying concepts like torque, tipping points, leverage, fulcrums and momentum to weave adversaries into human pretzels. And “the gentle art” is progressing faster than ever.
John Danaher, a sixth-degree black belt and preeminent instructor, abandoned his philosophy PhD program at Columbia to commit his life to BJJ. He now sits at the bleeding edge of the sport, having developed a leg-lock program that’s proved dominant at the height of competition.
What’s more impressive is that jiu-jitsu makes up only a fraction of MMA. Fighters must also learn to kickbox and wrestle, each discipline having dozens of subspecialties.
For instance, strikers may adopt a karate base, darting in and out of range with linear movement and throwing long kicks and punches to inflict damage while avoiding counters. They may instead choose a rooted, Muay Thai style, with its characteristic high guard and emphasis on durability.
Wrestlers can implement a host of upper- and lower-body takedowns, which demand unique defensive responses.
Considering all of this, the intricacy of combat is undeniable. It demands the rapid analysis of dynamic systems which, unlike those considered in physics, chemistry and engineering, are thinking. Not only that, these systems are actively seeking to thwart one’s advances.
Yet, through years of contemplation, training and experimentation, martial artists have developed ways to consistently solve the problems this presents.
Another prevailing myth is that fighters must be cruel or, if not that, crippled by anger. In reality, the opposite is true.
Fighters and combat sports athletes — even the jock types — are unusually humble, for the simple reason that they’ve been repeatedly beaten up. In competitive martial arts, there’s no such thing as a natural. Novices will inevitably be reminded over and over that they are helpless against a trained opponent.
Unexpectedly, this creates nonviolent people. Experienced combat athletes are aware of their ability; they don’t need to prove it. They are also aware of how quickly an altercation can turn for the worse, so they are unlikely to provoke confrontation.
There are exceptions, of course, but for the most part, martial artists are among the world's gentlest. They have no ego to protect.
Combat melds intelligence, style, humility and will. The result is surprisingly poetic.
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