Tiger Woods & Roger Federer.
As a follow on to my 10,000 hours post
in which I looked at the amount of time and effort needed to build a high level of expertise, I came across an article which set out an interesting addition to the debate; something I hadn’t really thought about.
The article was headed, ‘Generalise, don’t specialise: why focusing too narrowly is bad for us’ and was a condensed version of a larger work by David Epstein.
Epstein set up two very different examples by giving the back story of two of this century’s most stellar sportsmen; Tiger Woods and Roger Federer. Essentially this was the story of ‘push’ and ‘pull’.
Tiger Woods was famously hothoused by his ambitious father; while Roger Federer, as a youngster, was given the freedom to access all kinds of sports and generally ball-based activities.
Woods was an example of hyperspecialisation, he was ‘pushed’ while Federer was risking what’s sometimes categorised being a ‘late developer’ and frowned upon by the establishments in whose interests it is to keep this mythology alive – for, as the article shows, it is a myth that a single focus specialisation is the only way to achieve success. Hence Federer was ‘pulled’ by the opportunities and enjoyment of tennis.
Epstein was able to draw upon multiple examples where athletes bounced from one sport to another before crucially moving into their specialised field. Federer was able to draw upon a broad base of physical skills to enhance his approach to tennis; his mother was a tennis coach and she found herself having to resist the urge to check his unorthodox approach to specific techniques and problems found within a tennis match; he was liberated from ‘textbook tennis’ and as such was allowed to flourish. Federer’s mother was worried that her son was becoming too obsessed with tennis. I couldn’t imagine that Tiger’s father Earl would have thought such a thing about his son.
Specialisation has a number of negative aspects, Epstein said, “I came across more and more evidence that it takes time to develop personal and professional range – and that there are benefits to doing so. I discovered research showing that highly credentialed experts can become so narrow-minded that they actually get worse with experience, even while becoming more confident (a dangerous combination).”
Epstein’s conclusions were that although the generalised approach appears slower it has a greater shelf life than the specialising approach.
To give the other slant to this argument – very much drawing on the ‘mastery takes 10,000 hours of practice’ – read Matthew Syed’s book ‘Bounce’. Or read this neat summary by Paul Arnold, here.
As a postscript (and returning this back to being about martial arts) I wouldn’t be in a rush to go running around randomly ‘cross-training’ with other sports or other martial arts, particularly if you are at a point where you have clearly decided what your life’s focus will be.
I always think about a story of two men prospecting for gold. One just runs around digging lots of little shallow holes hoping to strike it lucky; the other does his research, locates his prime spot and invests time and money and digs one shaft really deep.
As I am a big fan of metaphors and also enjoy when the essence of one metaphor contradicts or reinforces another. On this theme, and to maybe complicate things, I would add one more; a quote from Thomas Merton.
“People may spend their whole lives climbing the ladder of success, only to find, once they reach the top, that the ladder is leaning against the wrong wall”.
*Recommended reading: ‘Range – why generalists triumph in a specialized world’, David Epstein.
Shikukai Karate – Do International was founded F Sugasawa Sensei, its chief instructor. It now has a nucleus of clubs run by dedicated instructors under his guidance. Saturday 6th July saw many of the instructors coming together in Essex to train the children as one group.
It was a real honour for us to have Sugasawa Sensei oversee the day. The children behaved impeccably and were so respectful in all that they said and did. It was amazing to see children from the different clubs working and training together as one.
The day began with a joint Kata training session where different instructors worked with the children on their chosen Kata.
This was followed by a competition, which involved some of our youngest Karateka taking part for the very first time.
The results of the Kata Competition were:
Pinan Shodan: Gold Jenny Clarke Woodham Walter
Silver Nate Ogier Hertford
Bronze Charlie Ogier Hertford
Gold Aidan Everitt Woodham Walter
Silver Holly Stallard Woodham Walter
Bronze Luca Riedling Woodham Walter
Gold Oliver Cornwell Woodham Walter
Silver Taylor Perrin Woodham Walter
Bronze Madeline Hardey Hertford
Gold Christopher Coates-Jones Woodham Walter
Silver Katie Taylor Woodham Walter
Bronze Aiofa Riedling Woodham Walter
Bronze William Dines Woodham Walter
The day culminated in a grading session for children from 9th Kyu to 5th Kyu.
Again, the children were commended for their positive attitude.
A day of real teamwork. A credit to the instructors and Karateka of Shikukai.
I wanted to share a particular approach I use to explaining an aspect of taisabaki.
For any non-Wado person reading this, the Wado understanding of ‘taisabaki’ is very distinctive from how other schools of Japanese karate interpret it.
‘Taisabaki’ is most conveniently translated as ‘body management’. Shotokan have their way of using taisabaki, but it is a very broad brush approach – in Shotokan anything that gets you out of the way or/and in position to counterstrike, can be classified as taisabaki.
But Wado’s approach is to sail dangerously close to the wind, to dice with danger and evade by the narrowest of margins. Some might say by no margin whatsoever; because what is often viewed from the outside looks so completely suicidal; like two forces seemingly competing for the same space. But that is Wado taisabaki – body management that allows you to flow.
There are some useful ways of into working with Wado taisabaki.
I have two analogies I use when teaching.
One is to say that you must become like water; if you foolishly try to punch water it just yields, and in your efforts you end up getting splashed.
Another model I use is that you should try to become like the human revolving door; like a Charlie Chaplin comedy classic; as one side is pushed the other side swings round and slaps you in the chops. Clearly this is the physical model of In-Yo, Yin Yang, positive negative working to harmonise, all mutually cooperative.
A simple exercise.
Stand square with a partner, both in natural stance facing each other; have one side place the right hand on the partner’s left shoulder and push. The person being pushed absorbs the energy so that the solidity that the person pushing was expecting to meet just disappears – the result may well be that with the resistance gone they will be over-extended and could lurch forward, which is a good result in itself.
Next, the person being pushed could try harnessing the energy that is being supplied by their partner and feed off it by activating the other side of their body, the right side using the fist and arm and also causing the other person to lurch into it, thus requiring even less energy because the forward momentum amplifies the impact.
To make it more relevant, the person doing the pushing could move their contact point incrementally towards the centre line (much more realistic) forcing the person being pushed to concentrate on their centreline and pivoting subtly around it. Obviously, as a practice this can be developed.
However, an interesting problem occurs when the person being pushed abandons the parallel position of natural stance and adopts a stance with either left leg forward or right leg forward. Suddenly the position of the legs as related to mobility and stability becomes an issue– which way would your legs need to move to support the evasive movement?
One way gives you a neat application of nagashizuki, i.e. the front leg just pivots on the spot while the back leg has to move to support the rotation – to all intents and purposes it is a classical nagashizuki.
But what if you decided to rotate your body the other way? If you respond to that push or punch by rotating only one way you become awfully predictable, so I describe that nagashi movement as ‘heads’ and therefore there must be a ‘tails’.
The ‘tails’ movement is to rotate the other way, but that requires your front leg to do all the movement, which is a movement most Wadoka know, i.e. the second movement of Kihon Gumite Ipponme. In reality the first one is a Jun hip, while the second one is a gyaku hip, this is the best excuse (if you ever needed one) to explore junzuki and gyakuzuki.
Of course there are many ways of exploring taisabaki, and the more you get into it the more complex it can become.
It truly is three-dimensional, involving so many different interconnecting principles, including aspects of creating space, manipulating timings and psychological leading. The exploration goes on and on, but at its heart is something very very simple – like water flowing around a rock, or a primitive rustic Japanese waterwheel – or even a build-up of snow slipping off the branches of a willow tree.
You can’t take your life forward if you are continually looking in the rear view mirror.
Writer and public speaker Eckhart Tolle advocates the idea of ‘living in the now’, it’s nothing new; deep down everyone knows that your individual personal past is a history that has gone, never to be replayed, and that your future is fiction yet to be written. We know this yet seldom stop to dwell on it. Really, all we can connect with is our current ‘now’; what some call ‘living in the moment’.
At one level Tolle sees the past as baggage and a burden we should try to shed, because much of it just drags us down. Tolle’s views are a little too extreme for me – there is value in the past because it is accumulated knowledge and lessons learned (in some cases not to be repeated). Projections into the future about what might happen can be a whole big waste of psychic energy; but these projections have their uses; we do need to consider our future and project forward as a kind of directional map as well as giving us meaningful targets – although ‘directions’ can have greater flexibility than targets and are better at coping with the problems of unrealistic objectives and the associated disappointments.
Somebody once said to me that your attitude changes once it dawns on you that you have more past behind you than future in front of you; which can be a really sobering and depressing thought.
Personally I try my best to avoid the rear view mirror. I don’t just mean in life in general but also my approach to my training in Wado. This is not particularly about my teaching in the Dojo, (I know that changes constantly and I’m happy with that), but about my own personal practice, technical development and understanding.
I recently looked at some old film of me practicing kata when I was in my mid 20’s and I came to the conclusion that I had no desire to work in that way ever again – it contradicted everything I now know.
I think that all martial artists who have accumulated a lot of mileage in their training and still have some fuel in the tank should be in a constant state of moving forwards; of reviewing and building on their accumulated experience and certainly not harping on about the past.
For additional thoughts; here is link to a poem by Brenda Shaughnessy called, ‘I Have a Time Machine’.
“The past is always tense, the future perfect”.
Isn’t it interesting how we use language in martial arts?
Within a teaching/training environment instructors will use all kinds of examples, metaphors etc. to communicate their ideas. Over the years you develop a whole arsenal of teaching ploys aimed at getting things across to your students.
For a martial art as an ‘art of war’ it is surprising how un-warlike the language can be. It tends to be just very practical, workaday, descriptive (in a mechanical, functional way) no emotion necessary just direct communication.
Compare that to types of language used by professional sports people and sports commentators, these tend to be oh so very warlike!
Battlefield and human combat metaphors and expressions come thick and fast. Tennis players are described as ‘punching above their weight’, the last time I checked punching wasn’t part of tennis – oh, apart from that really puzzling ‘punching the air’ gesture that top tennis players do when they win a point or match – what is that all about?
Golfers have a ‘battle on their hands’ – really? Footballers ‘hold the line’ – very 1914-18. And so it goes on.
Yet in serious martial arts disciplines you never hear these phrases.
This first occurred to me in a multi-discipline seminar, working with other martial arts styles. I found myself puzzled by phrases I had never heard used in traditional Dojos. I heard one instructor telling students that the objective of the technique was to “destroy the limb”, the phrase was clearly meant to dramatise the the effect of the technique rather than describe it. Opponents were described as “the bad guy”, ribs were “crushed”, and attacks to the knees were intended to “cripple” the opponent.
This was an emphasis on the after-effect of the technique and certainly not about the physiological mechanics of the technique, or how it affects the opponent’s structural integrity.
I know that in saying this I am sounding like an awful snob and being too picky, but I draw attention to it to maybe prompt people to think about where this is coming from, or even to think about what signals instructors send to their students.
So what is happening? Why that choice of language?
In part I think it is the cynical use of the language of fear. Consciously or unconsciously the instructor is cooking up a scenario of good versus evil – you are the good guy and you are having to ‘destroy’ the bad guy (and the world is full of ‘bad guys’, isn’t it? Well no actually, not if looked at proportionally; besides there’s good and bad in all of us).
For anyone familiar with Abraham Maslow’s ‘Hierarchy of Needs’ you will know that if you want to motivate people into taking action all you need to do is remove one or more of the component parts of the hierarchical building blocks, particularly level 2. Remove ‘Security’ or ‘Safety’ and people are forced into stressful, fearful mindsets. Remind them of their own fragility (illustrated with lurid examples) and then offer an antidote and you have a model for business success. But you have to keep the illusion/fantasy alive – hence the language; we can ‘take the man out’, we ‘annihilate the opposition’, ‘take him down’ literally and metaphorically.
I realise I am probably going to have to be super-cautious with my own teaching language from now on, or I may find myself ‘hoisted by my own petard’.
Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.
Back of the net! Tim Shaw
In Ushiro Kenji’s book, ‘Karate and Ki – The Origin of Ki – The Depth of Thought’, he mentions that when your sensei asks you if you understand, you should always be wary of answering it with an emphatic “Yes”. A better answer may be, “Yes, but only to my current level of understanding”. How can you really state that you are fully in the picture of what your Sensei is trying to communicate? It all becomes relative to your current point of development, and (if we are being realistic) we are all existing on a continuum of expanding knowledge – or we should be.
This is nothing new. Socrates (469 – 399 BCE) had worked it out (and was despised by some of his contemporaries for this). Here is a quote from the Encyclopaedia of Philosophy [online], “[The] awareness of one’s own absence of knowledge is what is known as Socratic ignorance, … Socratic ignorance is sometimes called simple ignorance, to be distinguished from the double ignorance of the citizens with whom Socrates spoke. Simple ignorance is being aware of one’s own ignorance, whereas double ignorance is not being aware of one’s ignorance while thinking that one knows.”
In my last job I spent many years advising teenagers about to depart for university, and one thing I used to say to them was that one of the worst insults that could ever be thrown at them was for someone to describe them as ‘ignorant’; I also included shallow as well, but ignorance was the most heinous of crimes.
An obvious part of this is to be aware of the lenses you are looking through (check out, ‘observer bias’ and the closely related ‘cognitive dissonance’). Martial artists seem particularly prone to this. We see this when someone has a pet theory, or a favourite concept and feels a need to carve it in stone. Once it’s gone that far down the line there’s really no going back, and even in the light of new evidence which contradicts or turns over the pet theory they are stuck with it and it can become a millstone around their neck.
The error is in not acknowledging your own ignorance; feeling you should set yourself up as the authority in all things.
We are not very good at understanding the limits of our own knowledge. We make an assumption that in all areas of life we are existing on the cutting edge of what is possible – that may be true but we still encounter stuff that is either imperfect, or goes wrong, or breaks down; be that in systems, societies or technology. Deep down we know there is the possibility of improvement and advancement, but that’s always for tomorrow.
Take medical science as an example. Someone recently said to me that there’s never been a better time to be ill. Now, I take issue with that in more than one way; the obvious one being that really there is no ‘better’ time to be ill at all! Another point is that this comment was probably the same one used by an 18th century surgeon when he was just about to saw someone’s leg off without anaesthetic.
I suppose it is the arrogance within humanity that arrives at these rather bizarre conclusions. Perhaps in a way it is a kind of comfort blanket; maybe we are hiding from a much more sobering reality? Sometime in the future will some social historians be looking back at us and marvelling at how primitive and naïve we were? Or perhaps this is already happening within our own lifetime? Maybe my generation has been the first to witness such a dramatic rate of change and advancement. It’s a fact; compared to previous centuries the rate of change has speeded up phenomenally. One factor alone sums it up nicely – the Internet. I think we can talk confidently about ‘Pre-Internet’ and ‘Post-Internet’.
However, human skill development at a physical level does not increase at the same high speed that technological development can. Athletes can still shave a hundredth of a second off a 100 metre sprint, but it can take years to achieve this comparatively tiny gain. In fact any significant human skill still takes hours of dedicated practice to achieve. A 21st century aspiring pianist still has to put the same amount of hours in that an 18th century one did. Of course we are smarter about how we organise the learning process, this is sometimes supported by technology but the body still has to do the work. Our attitude towards human physical achievement and ambition has changed over the last 100 years. Take the example of Roger Bannister’s breaking of the 4 minute mile; critics at the time claimed that Bannister had cheated because he trained for the event! Their attitude of course was that Bannister should have done it based upon his own innate undeveloped physical attributes; his God given talent.
The acknowledgment of ignorance is inevitably a positive thing; it’s the acceptance that there is a whole big world out there, a boundless uncharted territory which is loaded with amazing possibilities.
It goes without saying Martial Arts can easily be categorised as a human skill (a Craft). It’s a trained activity directed at solving specific problems. Problem solving can be achieved to different levels depending on the competence of the person addressing the problem. It could even be argued that problem solving is binary – either you solve the problem or you don’t. But problem solving is not necessarily an ‘end-stop’ activity, there’s more to this than meets the eye.
Following this ideas that martial arts art are crafts, I would like to explore this further to see if anything can be gained by shifting our perspective and pushing the boundaries and looking at what a ‘craft’ actually is.
Sociologist Richard Sennett has a specific interest in Craft and Craftsmanship. For him ‘Craft’ is just doing the job, probably the same as everyone else, just to get it out of the way; a basic necessity. But ‘Craftsmanship’ is the task done in an expert, masterly fashion (Like the famous story of the master butcher in The Chuang Tzu). But the craftsman’s response to the problems/challenges he faces is not just a mechanical one; it changes according to the situation, and, whether it is master butcher, musician, painter or martial artist, the challenge is fluid, and as such adjustments are made on the spot and new ways of doing the same thing evolve. The craftsman doesn’t ‘master’ his art, because his mastery is ever-moving….or it should be. The skills of the master craftsman becomes a linear on-going project, not an end-stop.
Sennett says that craftsmanship at a basic level involves identifying a problem, then solving that problem; but that it shouldn’t end there. The solving of an individual problem often leads on to new problems that the craftsman may not have known existed prior to engaging with that particular individual problem. A combination of his intellect, his curiosity and his evolving level of mastery leads him towards tackling that next unforeseen problem and the process goes on.
In his research Sennett interviewed ex-Microsoft engineers who lamented the closed system of Microsoft, but lauded the open creative possibilities of Linux – for him this was an example of craftsmanship in progress. I am reminded of the comparison between the old style chess programs and the latest AlphaZero chess program. With the old style programs the moves had to be inputted by human hand; with AlphaZero the only input was the rules of the game; the computer then was free to play millions of games against itself to work out an amazing number of possibilities that just multiplied and multiplied.
It is not a huge leap to apply this way of thinking to Wado. Utilising the skills we develop in a free-flowing scenario engages with many problem solving opportunities that unfold in rapid succession. If we do it well it is all over very quickly, or, if we are working against a very skilled opponent the engagements may be more complicated, for example using an interplay of creating or seizing initiatives (‘Sen’). But to do this your toolkit (your core principles) must have a solid grounding otherwise you might have the ideas in your head but not necessarily the trained physicality to carry them out, and certainly not in the split second often needed.
If we really want to develop our craftsmanship we have to look for the opportunities that are created beyond the basic level of simple problem solving, but without losing the immediacy and economy that underpins Wado. I know that sounds like a contradiction but it is possible to be complex in your simplicity; it’s just a matter of perspective.