Do you have the tendency to raise your hand and ask questions during karate training when you don’t quite understand what’s being shown? Or do you prefer to stay quiet, follow as best as you can, and try to figure it out later on your own?
In most Western contexts, asking questions is considered a sign of curiosity and engagement, a way to find out why things are done a certain way. We’re taught from an early age that questioning leads to understanding. But in karate, and in many traditional Japanese arts, that habit of immediate questioning might not always serve us as well as we think.
I’m quite introverted and generally prefer to stay quiet, but in karate classes I often find myself asking a lot of questions. There are many things I don’t understand, and I naturally want to know why. Why this impractical stance? Why this angle, this timing, this method? Why this drill that doesn’t appear relevant to real-life combat? I used to think there was nothing wrong with asking, after all, most instructors encourage it.
Then I came across a quote from Kenei Mabuni Sensei (son of Kenwa Mabuni, the founder of Shito-ryu Karate) that stopped me in my tracks. When asked about the difference between Japanese and Western karate students, he said:
“The Japanese student will follow the sensei’s instructions and try to think and figure out by himself why things are done the way they are done. The Westerner will ask “why” almost immediately, and even if he doesn’t, his logical approach requires a reason why.”
I had to chuckle for Mabuni Sensei described me perfectly. I realized how often I ask questions not just to clarify technique but to satisfy my logical need for understanding. Since reading that quote, I’ve been trying to ask fewer questions in class and instead explore them through practice at home.
Then I stumbled upon another insight, this time from Yasunari Ishimi sensei (10th Dan Shito Ryu karate master who has spent over five decades teaching karate in Spain), that gave me a real light-bulb moment. He said in an interview with Jose Fraguas:
[after a student asks a technical question]… the old teacher used to send the student to a corner and ask him to repeat the movement 10,000 times. Then his questions would evaporate. I know this is not an acceptable way of teaching in the Western world. In the West, when a student asks you a question, you simply answer. There is a downside to this. The student will go back to training thinking and believing that he knows the answer, but he doesn’t. He just listened to the answer, but he doesn’t know it. By doing the technique, the student needs to feel the technique and understand why the movement is performed that way. He needs to go inside for the answer. The problem lies in the fact that this method requires a lot of time because the answer is not learned immediately. This method is very good for those students who have a strong will and are dedicated.”
This passage resonated deeply with me, and I wish I had experienced this traditional way of teaching firsthand. In today’s fast-paced world of AI and an abundance of instant information, it’s tempting to expect quick answers. After all, it’s natural to want to avoid wasting time and making silly mistakes unnecessarily, progress faster and reach our goals in the shortest possible time. But I’ve come to realize that karate – like many traditional disciplines and other areas of life – doesn’t work that way.
Reading books full of wisdom from great karate masters doesn’t make me a wise karateka overnight. Reading self-help books written by enormously successful people doesn’t suddenly turn me into a high achiever with their habits and mindsets. I can never acquire their skills or depth of understanding simply by listening to their talks or reading about their methods, routines, or philosophies. Likewise, I wouldn’t become a top athlete by reading their biographies, a great composer by listening to music alone, or a professional actor by watching a lot of Hollywood blockbusters and acting classes. Those things are mere information that does not equate instant transformation. Merely having the knowledge about something does not mean one can do it at a professional or expert level. True skill and understanding only emerge when that information is embodied – when it’s lived, practiced, tested, and integrated through experience.
If I am committed to putting in the time and effort, enduring struggles and setbacks along the way, I may eventually acquire valuable skills and a stronger mindset. Through that process, I might discover something meaningful that becomes part of who I am and experience real transformation.
Similarly, when I ask questions during karate training, I may get spoon-fed instant answers, but those are, again, only information. They might clarify a detail or two, but often they trick me into thinking I know, when in reality I don’t understand. When I rely too much on external answers, I miss the opportunity to explore the question myself.
However, if I take the time to seek the answer through practice, I become an independent, proactive, and engaged learner. The process may be slow, but what I discover through it stays with me permanently. It becomes part of my embodied knowledge, part of my movement, my timing, my intuition. By the time I have repeated a technique 10,000 times, the question is likely to have “evaporated” as Ishimi Sensei said.
Real understanding is embodied, not merely intellectual. You don’t grasp a principle of body mechanics by hearing about it; you grasp it through repetition, experimentation, correction, and quiet reflection until it becomes part of you. And that is a kind of deep understanding that can never be obtained through a simple answer from an instructor. It cannot be unlearned, and it extends far beyond the dojo. The mindset of seeking understanding through experience is a problem-solving skill that transfers into every pursuit in life.
That doesn’t mean students should never ask questions. Good teachers welcome sincere curiosity. But perhaps the timing of the question matters. Sometimes, instead of asking our instructors “why” immediately, we can first ask ourselves: “What am I being asked to do?” “What am I doing differently compared to before?” or “What do I feel when I perform this movement?” In other words, let the doing lead to the knowing.
Karate, at its core, is about self-discovery, exploring what our bodies are capable of expressing through repeated movements and mindful practice. The answers often reveal themselves not through external explanation, but through sweat, patience, and presence. As Ishimi Sensei said, we must “go inside for the answer.”
So next time you feel the urge to raise your hand in class, maybe pause for a moment. Repeat the movement again and again. Feel it. Observe what changes. Keep the question in mind. Maybe the answer will begin to surface quietly one day, from within.
As Eugène Ionesco once said, “It is not the answer that enlightens, but the question.” Resisting the impulse to ask immediately helps cultivate patience, humility, and discipline. And I bet whatever you learn the hard way, through your own effort and discovery, is something you’re unlikely to ever forget.
References
Karate Masters Volume 1 by Jose Fraguas
Karate Masters Volume 2 by Jose Fraguas
Other posts you might be interested in:
Is Karate All About If You Can Fight or Not?
Setting and Nailing New Year’s Resolutions the Martial Artist’s Way
On Building Confidence in Your Karate Skills
Beyond Shodan: What Await You After Your First Black Belt
Transcending Kata with Three Levels of Bunkai According to Inoue Yoshimi
What Is Mushin and How to Achieve It?
Recent Posts
You can only imagine the shock waves that Bruce Lee’s article "Liberate Yourself From Classical Karate" first published in the September 1971 issue of Black Belt magazine, caused within traditional...
Over the years, I’ve given a lot of thought to how grading systems are structured and how they can support students on their karate journey. I’ve written a number of posts on this blog about...