(Approx 2 minute 20 second read)

My first exposure to karate was Wado-Ryu in 1974. The bulk of the classes focused on the basics, with plenty of exercises thrown in to keep things ‘enjoyable’.
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Of course, there was kata and I was told that it required years of dedicated practice to truly understand, yet I seemed to learn new ones every few months. Bunkai was rarely discussed, and when it was, it conformed to the simplicity we were learning in our basic techniques.
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Karate was presented as a path to character development, yet the focus seemed to be on sparring and competition proficiency. Despite these contradictions, I diligently followed my instructor’s guidance. I wasn’t concerned with rank or style – I just wanted to learn.
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I embraced the competitive aspect, but the true meaning of karate – whatever that meant – remained elusive. Sport was clear: sparring led to tournaments, competitions, and club challenges. But self-defense raised more questions than answers. Was it about avoiding harm, inflicting harm, or preventing conflict altogether?
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And what about karate as an art? Was it found in the precision of movement, the aesthetic beauty, or the character forged through perseverance? Was kata an artistic expression or simply a sequence of fighting techniques? And why didn’t we apply those techniques in sparring?
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These questions persisted, often dismissed with the promise of future understanding.
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Years later, I’ve found answers to many of these contradictions, but it took time. I’ve come to realize that many people are content with their existing understanding. For some, all that matters is the fighting. New students are easily swayed, often accepting teachings without any critical examination.
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I’ve always had a questioning mind. If something doesn’t add up, I look for alternatives – often to the irritation of my instructors. I recently received a message from someone thanking me for an article because it made him realize that what he was learning wasn’t effective for his goals. He had been told it was self-defense, but after reading my article, he saw that it wouldn’t work for him.
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I’m not trying to disrupt anyone’s training, but I strongly believe instructors should be honest about what they teach. I share what I know, challenge complacency, and learn from those willing to share. But I also have little patience for those who claim knowledge yet can’t – or won’t – apply it.
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I respect each person’s right to believe what they wish. I will argue, persuade, or be persuaded, but we all have the right to choose our own path.
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Many people never question what they’ve been taught. Not even realizing there are alternatives. Much of what they accept as truth in karate – and in life – is simply habit or tradition.
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Some long-time practitioners already know everything – or at least everything they wish to know. That’s fine. But every now and then, I like to rattle their cage – just enough to remind them that they’re in one.
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Karate, like life, isn’t just about following instructions – it’s about questioning, understanding, and making it your own. My goal isn’t to hand you all the answers, but to get you thinking, questioning, and improving.
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As I said, I started with Wado-Ryu, but along the way, I’ve learned from many different styles – each offering valuable lessons, but also raising more questions. That search eventually led me to Okinawan karate, where I continue to learn, refine, and challenge what I once thought I knew.
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But if none of this makes sense to you, that’s fine too—just keep training. Sooner or later, you’ll either have a breakthrough… or decide I’m just a troublemaker. Either way, I’ll take it as a win.
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Written by Adam Carter