School of Shotokan Karate & Self Defence.

21/11/2025

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(Approx 3 minute read)

A friend of mine recently posted an image of a downward block, or gedan barai, to show it could do something most people never expect: in this case, a throw.
For clarity, he placed text alongside the image that said, ‘Gedan Barai is not a block’. Oh crikey, I know where this is going.
Now, I agree, gedan barai is not simply a block, but many people reading his page went ape and threw out some wild comments.
One of them that caught my eye was: ‘Looks very similar and could be the exact same but things have names and definitions for a reason and saying one is the other is just not true. Similar sure but not the same.’
He went on to say, ‘The technique here is trying to show a block is a throw. Which is literally a different technique… we define things for a reason. Because if I had you do a downward block for 5 years and then told you to do this throw you would be very confused… But once an opponent is in front of you, you would have to adjust so many small details of the technique you would realize how different it actually is.’
I have a problem with this attitude and approach to karate. What he is basically saying is that every technique, must have its own name. And as we know, in the martial arts today, they do.
My problem with this, and it should be for anyone with an interest in pragmatic karate, is that we now have hundreds of techniques that we must follow to the letter because each one has its own name and its own function.
He mentioned studying a downward block for five years, saying you would be confused if you had to use it as a throw. Well, yes, of course you would. That’s not the student’s fault, it’s the teacher’s. But why would you teach a gedan barai for five years simply as a block? It doesn’t make sense. It is poor teaching and poor understanding.
Some people need to realize that the names of techniques were added after karate’s change from pragmatic to modern in the early part of the 20th century. These names were added for ease of teaching groups of students within a school and university setting. Any relation to actual physical combat was removed.
If I wanted to be a little pedantic, ‘gedan barai’ doesn’t even mean block. It means lower sweeping. And even if you add ‘uke’ to it, gedan barai uke, it simply means receiving by sweeping at the lower level. So even in the modern sense, that alone opens it up to far more than a single fixed function.
Now go back to when the pioneers were putting this all together and the names didn’t exist. From this, we understand that the techniques were regarded as movements, not isolated actions, but adaptable. Do you see where I am going with this?
If you were involved in a real, brutal non-consensual fight, do you think you would have time, do you think your brain would allow you to recall hundreds of techniques so you could choose the exact one you need? No, of course not.
You use movement and adapt that movement. Suddenly, one technique has become many. It is easier to recall under extreme stress, and easier to use when the adrenaline dump hits.
And this is the problem with modern karate. Trying to use a method that was not designed for practicality and real combat, trying to make it fit. It won’t. Context is everything (here I go again).
It’s like trying to recall every word in a book. It would take too long, when all you need to do is check the summary.
And that is the point most people miss. When you strip away the labels, the fixed shapes, the insistence that every movement must live in its own little box, you are left with what the old masters actually built – function. Not a catalogue of techniques, but a vocabulary of movements.
Once you understand that, the whole argument about whether a gedan barai can also be a throw becomes irrelevant. Of course it can. It always could.
The only people who struggle with that idea are those still trying to memorize the book instead of learning the language.
Written by Adam Carter - Shuri Dojo

21/11/2025

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🥋💯♥️

19/11/2025

https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1GncQKhARJ/?mibextid=wwXIfr

(Approx 2 minute 20 second read)

Something a little different today.
People talk a lot about confirmation bias, Dunning–Kruger, and all the psychological reasons why some can’t see past their own viewpoint. You don’t need the labels. You see the behavior every day, people so stuck in their own little world that anything outside it is treated as a threat.
I’ve learned something over the years: before you get into an argument, you have to ask yourself if the other person is even capable of seeing another perspective. If they’re not, there’s no point. You won’t get anywhere.
Not every argument is worth your time. Some people listen only so they can fire back. They’re not interested in understanding. They want to “win”. All it does is drain you.
There’s a difference between a real conversation and a pointless debate. A real conversation can be useful, even if you disagree. But trying to reason with someone whose mind is already closed is a waste of energy. You won’t change them.
I don’t bother with online arguments anymore. Back and forth achieves nothing. I’d rather step away and write another article. It’s better for my mind. I’m too old to get dragged into silly disputes about who is right, who is wrong, whose style is better, or who has the “best” credentials. It’s nonsense.
Maturity is knowing when to walk away. Not because you’re defeated, but because the discussion isn’t going anywhere. Some people will never see your point, no matter how clearly you explain it.
And that’s fine. You don’t have to justify yourself to everyone.
We have more information available now than ever before, yet people seem more confused than ever. Especially in the martial arts. The amount of nonsense online gets in the way of real training.
Social media is part of the problem. It isn’t designed to teach. It’s designed to get reactions. That’s why the loudest, most dramatic posts get pushed to the top. Practical, straightforward information gets buried under opinions and ego.
People scroll through reels and memes and think they’re learning something. They’re not.
These short bits of content take complex ideas and reduce them to something quick and catchy. And quick and catchy is rarely correct.
Plenty of accounts sound confident. Some actually know what they’re talking about, many don’t. But confidence and accuracy aren’t the same thing. Context gets lost, and common sense disappears.
Algorithms make this worse. They feed you more of what you already think. That narrows people’s thinking and makes them defensive. It stops real understanding.
I don’t have all the answers, but I do know this: clarity matters. Practicality matters. Integrity matters. If we want people to understand what karate is for, we need to cut through the noise and focus on reality.
Trust comes from accountability. Question what you see. Check things before you repeat them. Don’t share something just because it gets attention. Be honest.
My aim is simple: keep things practical and honest. Ask questions. Think for yourself. And when it all gets too noisy, turn off the phone and get back in the dojo. That’s where the real work happens.
Sometimes the best thing you can do is walk away. Not out of defeat, but because your peace is worth more than an online argument. You don’t win by arguing. You win by training.
Written by Adam Carter - Shuri Dojo

18/11/2025

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18/11/2025

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(Approx 2 minute 40 second read)

My word it is hard to get through to some people sometimes.
Karate basics are often misunderstood. What are called soto uke, gedan barai, uchi uke, jodan uke, and more – many see these as literal blocks, designed simply to stop an incoming attack.
But if you stop at that idea (see what I did there?), you miss everything that your karate and your kata are trying to teach.
Someone told me that in his version of kung-fu some students are told to practice movements big first, so they can “shrink” them later. It was presented as a smarter way of training than the “sledgehammer” style he was used to in kyokushin.
Let’s add a bit of science to this, because the body doesn’t care about tradition, it adapts to what you actually train.
The ‘specificity principle’ in motor learning states that your nervous system adapts to the exact movements you train. Large, exaggerated movements create adaptations for those large movements. They do not automatically translate to precise, efficient techniques under pressure.
Henneman’s size principle reinforces this: small and large movements recruit different motor units. Training only the “big” version doesn’t prepare you for the subtlety and speed required in realistic application.
The misunderstanding of kihon also affects how you see kata. But kata were never designed to highlight blocks. Many movements share trajectories or patterns and serve multiple purposes.
Many movements in kata appear exaggerated simply because tradition has formalized them that way. Over time, instructors and textbooks emphasized visible shape rather than function, and students learned to mimic the form instead of understanding the purpose.
What looks like a “big movement” is a reflection of misunderstanding that has been copied without question.
A friend of mine illustrated this with a language analogy: if a block were literally a block, it would be a two-syllable action, while a punch is one syllable. The attack comes first; the so-called block comes second. If you rely on the “second syllable” to stop the attack, you are always late.
The first movement must meet, redirect, or control the attack.
He also reminded me that many of the pioneers of karate put it plainly: “there are no passive arms in karate”. Every movement has practical purpose, often more than one.
The lesson is clear: karate is about function, not form for tradition’s sake. Misreading kihon leads to misreading your karate, distorting everything.
Training must reflect the intent and context of the movement, not a misapplied idea of “blocks” or exaggerated practice. Under pressure, only what you have actually trained will work. It really isn’t rocket science.
Practicing running won’t teach you to swim, just because both use arms and legs.
Understanding kihon correctly, its timing, purpose, and functional logic, is the foundation for everything else.
But as I mention so often, context is everything. If you are training for competition, for aesthetics, for fitness and fun, none of this matters. However, if you want your karate to be there when you need it, to actually protect you, you have to stop believing your kihon practice is “just basic”.
Yes it’s fundamental to your practice but not in its application. It is practical, if you look inside and ask why you are doing this, and how it relates to the way you are doing it.
Start thinking for yourself. Too many people try to make a non-practical version of karate fit a practical purpose, and that’s why the confusion never ends. Stop accepting that version. It won’t work.
And this is where tradition and reality finally part ways. The inherited shapes of kihon are not the reality you face when someone grabs you, swings at you, or tries to hurt you. The context determines the outcome.
When tradition is misunderstood, it becomes decoration. When context is understood, it becomes protection.
Written by Adam Carter - Shuri Dojo
Image of Kenei Mabuni and Masao Shinzato for representation purposes only.

18/11/2025

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18/11/2025

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17/11/2025

17/11/2025

https://www.facebook.com/share/p/19QmgMRNAD/?mibextid=wwXIfr

(Approx 1 minute 55 second read)

I wrote an article recently about keeping movements smaller and tighter to engage the kinetic chain. To stop exaggerating movements and making them too large.
Of course, there were comments saying you have to practice big first so you can become small later. Utter nonsense, of course. If you train a movement big, you program it big. Under pressure, you won’t magically perform the tighter version you never actually trained. You default to what you’ve drilled.
Another comment which was basically on the same subject, asked why soto uke isn’t so prevalent in kata, when gedan barai, uchi uke, and jodan uke appear more often. He said the soto uke movement is too big and would be ineffective.
He’s right that it would be ineffective – but only because he’s using it as a block. He’s viewing all his basics as blocks, when clearly they don’t work as such.
If you believe your kihon are literal blocks, then of course you think the movement has to be big. You need all that space and wind-up to “block a punch”, because the underlying idea is already wrong.
And even his observation about kata isn’t entirely wrong. If you’re counting the modern textbook version of soto uke, yes, you’ll see it less. But kata weren’t designed around today’s four basic blocks. That came much later.
Many movements that could function as soto uke, or share the same basic pattern, are given different names in different styles. Some schools don’t even use “soto uke” as a universal label. So when people start counting appearances, they’re using a narrow or inconsistent definition to begin with.
Then there was another comment trying to explain away big movements by saying some techniques swing in wide arcs because they might represent throws, entries, or even fights with multiple opponents.
This mixes together too many assumptions. A throw doesn’t need a huge wind-up. Closing distance doesn’t need a wide arc either. And the old idea that kata shows fights with multiple opponents is just a story people repeat when they can’t explain the movement.
Large arcs aren’t there because the application is big. They’re there because someone misunderstood the purpose of the motion and formalized the exaggeration.
All of this shows a bigger problem. There are layers of misunderstanding in karate that people build on without ever questioning. They misunderstand kihon, so they misunderstand kata. They misunderstand kata, so they misunderstand bunkai. And once someone believes some of these movements are literal blocks, everything becomes distorted.
They start trying to justify the size, the path, the shape, instead of asking the most basic question: what is the technique actually for?
Until that question is answered honestly, nothing else will make sense.
Written by Adam Carter - Shuri Dojo
Photo Credit: Image courtesy of Don Came.

16/11/2025

https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1ADBKx5sWE/?mibextid=wwXIfr

(Approx 2 minute 50 second read)

Over the years I’ve watched a lot of people perform kata, and one thing that often stands out is the size of the movements.
Arms swinging in wide arcs, steps that cover half the floor, hips turned so far that the intent of the technique gets lost.
I don’t think this happens because people are trying to be theatrical. It happens because the original purpose of the movement has faded, and when the purpose fades, the motion tends to grow.
The further we drift from close-range understanding, the larger everything becomes.
When I look at kata, whether in my dojo or others, I always ask a simple question: would this movement make sense with someone’s hands on you? Would it work at the distance where violence actually happens?
If the answer is no, then the movement is too big. Real situations don’t allow for sweeping motions or long preparations. They demand something tight, connected, and efficient.
And this is perhaps why so many practitioners struggle to grasp the underlying bunkai. They begin with a movement that is already exaggerated, already too large to work under pressure.
There should be no wind-up, no telegraphing, no pulling the arm in the opposite direction before sending it forward again. That type of motion creates a split second of unnecessary vulnerability. It opens a window for the other person to strike you before your technique even begins.
In reality the movement should come from the ground up, just as a boxer generates power from the feet, through the hips, and into the hands. Hit, deflect, move, or grab from wherever your hands already are, not from a position you have to travel away from first. Efficiency isn’t a luxury in close range, it’s survival.
If you doubt this, try it. Stand less than an arm’s length from someone and perform the movement exactly as you do it in your kata. Ask your partner to come forward with aggression and speed. Don’t adjust it, don’t shrink it, don’t “explain” it, just do it the way you’ve trained it.
You’ll immediately see the problem. The motion is too big, too slow, too exposed. It simply doesn’t fit the reality of close-range contact.
Now, I know some will say, “In kata we do it that way, but in bunkai we don’t”. The problem is that your body doesn’t separate the two. The way you train kata becomes the way you move under pressure. If the movement is exaggerated, the habit becomes exaggerated. And that is habitually wrong. You don’t want that creeping into your self-protection, do you?
In my own kata I prefer to keep the movements small, compressed, and honest. Nothing exaggerated, nothing for show. The body needs to work as a single unit, and that only happens when the kinetic chain is engaged from the start.
The more you tighten the movement, the more you feel how the body links together, and the more you understand what the kata is actually teaching. Kata should reflect the reality of close-range conflict, not a performance for an empty room.
The issue isn’t about tradition or aesthetics. It’s about whether what we practice represents the conditions in which these movements were created.
Large motions might look impressive, but they rarely reflect the pressure, speed, and proximity of real encounters. And the difficulty is that many practitioners don’t even realize their movements have become exaggerated. When something is taught and repeated for long enough, it starts to feel normal. It becomes the “correct” way simply because it’s familiar, not because it works.
But kata was never meant to be a display of how far the arms can travel or how deep a stance can be stretched. It was meant to record effective answers to close-range violence.
When movements are tightened back to their functional size, the intent suddenly becomes visible. The technique becomes understandable. The body becomes connected. And kata begins to resemble the practical art it was always meant to be.
Written by Adam Carter - Shuri Dojo

15/11/2025

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