Myths and Misconceptions

10 Tall Tales of the Martial Arts Debunked!

by Jonathan Maberry

Do black belts have to register their hands as deadly weapons? Was Bruce Lee killed by ninja? Is there really a technique that can stop the heart?

During the 40 years I’ve been involved with the martial arts as a student, teacher, writer and historian, I’ve heard just about every wild claim, urban legend and tall tale out there. To my surprise, I’ve found that they’re widely believed by the public. The really disturbing thing, however, is that these myths and misconceptions aren’t just perpetuated by the uninformed; many of them are passed down within martial arts schools.

In this article, I’ll share 10 of these twisted little chestnuts with you. Together, we’ll crack them and find the truth inside.

A Black Belt Must Register Himself as a Deadly Weapon

This is one of the oldest American martial arts legends, and there’s absolutely no basis for it. First, the U.S. government doesn’t regulate the martial arts, which means there’s no process to identify people practicing the fighting arts and no governmental method by which practitioners can be evaluated. Such a feat of regulation would cost millions, if not billions, of dollars and be a violation of civil rights. Actually, there’s not a country on earth where martial artists are required to register themselves as weapons, deadly or otherwise.

This myth has its roots in three different aspects of mid-20^th-century history. In post-World War II Japan, the traditional arts were banned, and records were kept of experienced practitioners. It lasted only a few years and hasn’t been repeated. It never spread beyond the borders of Japan.

Another root is entrenched in the regulation of the activities of U.S. servicemen overseas. Occasionally, following World War II and even into the 1960s, military personnel who enrolled in martial arts programs were asked to register their participation, though not themselves. That was done to keep track of nonstandard combative training, to ensure that the servicemen were getting good instruction and to monitor those classes that were resulting in injuries to the men. Remember that when a person joins the military, he’s essentially the property of the U.S. government, and engaging in activities that needlessly result in injury is like damaging military equipment. If a school was causing a lot of injuries, the military wanted to know about it and, in some cases, shut it down.

The third root is planted in the soil of the rich and often outrageous history of professional pugilism. In the era of boxer Joe Louis, it was common to have police on hand during a press conference to “register” the boxer as a deadly weapon. It was just a publicity stunt and carried no more legal weight than receiving the key to the city, which, of course, doesn’t mean you can open any door in town and just walk inside.

In court cases involving violent confrontations, lawyers and judges may advise the jury to bear in mind a person’s martial arts, boxing or military training when evaluating the facts of the case, as in the Matter of the Welfare of DSF, 416 N.W.2d 772 (Minn. App. 1988), where the Minnesota Court of Appeals concluded that the defendant, who had “substantial experience in karate,” was aware enough of the potential of his blows to deliberately break the plaintiff’s jaw. But that is a lot different from legally stating that the person in question is a registered and/or licensed deadly weapon.

What’s truly disturbing, however, is that some martial artists carry “registration cards” they’ve received from their instructors. Those instructors charge them a hefty fee to be registered, and the students believe what they’ve been told—that they’re now listed as deadly weapons.

Bruce Lee Was Assassinated by Shaolin Killer Monks

This myth began circulating shortly after Lee’s death in 1973. Actually, there are dozens—perhaps hundreds—of stories surrounding his passing. The three I heard most often are that he was killed for revealing the secrets of Shaolin Temple, that he was murdered by rival kung fu teachers in Chinatown and that he was assassinated by ninja. None of them is true.

Despite his stature as an actor and reputation as an innovator, Lee was an ordinary man subject to the same weaknesses and medical frailties as anyone. It was an allergic reaction that slew the “Little Dragon,” not invisible assassins.

Lee had been discussing script points with Betty Tingpei, an actress with whom he was co-starring in the never-finished Game of Death. Lee, who suffered from severe headaches, got a pounding one that afternoon and asked for some painkillers. She offered him some Equagesic, a painkiller she often used. Lee took some, then went into another room to lie down. Unfortunately, the medicine contained aspirin, and Lee was severely allergic. The anaphylactic reaction caused his brain to swell, and he lapsed into a coma during his nap. Dr. R.R. Lycette of Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Kowloon, Hong Kong, cited a hypersensitivity to one or more of the compounds in the Equagesic tablet as the cause of death.

Considering how much life and energy Lee projected on screen and in public appearances, it was impossible for many to accept that he had simply died. He was a cinematic superman: unbeatable, unkillable and unstoppable. The public could have accepted it if he’d fallen while fighting a bunch of thugs, but an allergic reaction to aspirin didn’t seem possible. Giants don’t die that easily.

Now, more than 30 years later, conspiracy theorists still concoct elaborate cases for the mysterious murder of Lee. And with the tragic demise of his son, Brandon, who died in a way that bizarrely mirrored a scene in Game of Death, the myths persist, coroner’s reports notwithstanding.

A Black Belt Is a Master

Not even close. A first-degree black belt is an advanced beginner. The belt signifies his passage from the ranks of those who are still learning to the ranks of those who’ve learned how to learn. That’s a significant difference.

The transition from white belt to black belt has less to do with techniques than with learning the methodology and procedures necessary to think like a martial artist. A black belt should be able to grasp the concepts on which the arts are based, which is far more important than his ability to perform any technique. There’s a saying about human survival: Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day, but teach a man to fish and you feed him for life. This is similar to the climb from colored belt to black belt: The black belt has learned how to learn and therefore becomes more proactive in his own education.

Does this mean he’s an expert? Well, my colleagues in the martial arts are evenly split on that point. One point of view is: Yes, a first-degree black belt is an expert on the basic gross motor skills necessary to perform martial arts moves. The other is: No, a first-degree black belt is not an expert but an advanced beginner who’s just grasping the concepts he’ll need to become an expert within a few years.

Most of the traditional instructors I know maintain that a person becomes a true expert by the time he reaches third degree, which is for many arts the point at which a person can begin teaching.

These days, first- and second-degree black belts are often assigned to teach, and many are even called sensei. This marketing tactic confuses the issue, especially when younger students learn to equate anyone with a black belt with instructor-level expertise.

All Martial Arts Are Ancient

No way. Although there are indeed ancient arts—such as varmannie (5,000-plus years old), kung fu (3,000 years), jujutsu (1,000 years) and so on—new arts are springing up all the time.

Karate, as we know it, is less than a century old, having been introduced to Japan by Okinawan masters who practiced versions of karate-jutsu that were more combative. Judo was born in 1882, and aikido in 1935. Taekwondo and hapkido were introduced in the 1940s and ’50s, even though they were based on much older systems. American kenpo was developed in the latter part of the 20^th century.

Traditional Systems Don’t Work

The effectiveness of an art depends on the practitioner. Studying a system isn’t like putting on a magic cloak; it doesn’t imbue you with great powers. We make ourselves into living representations of the art we study. It works through us, but we’re the ones who must give it life and breath and reality.

That’s the esoteric perspective; now here’s the cold, hard truth. If a person doesn’t make the art work, it won’t work. If he’s lackluster in training, lazy out of class and in possession of such a short attention span that he leaves while still in his intermediate years, he’ll probably be unable to use that art in self-defense. The result: The art is blamed for being ineffective.

There Is a World Champion

There are many, many world champions. The martial arts are popular around the world. Millions of people study them, and thousands of systems exist. About 70 percent of the world’s styles have some kind of competition. At a conservative guess, let’s call that 5,000 styles. Many of these compete within the confines of regulating organizations, so let’s conservatively figure that there are about 3,000 such federations worldwide.

Each one of these 3,000 federations will have weight classes, and some will have classes based on sex and rank, as well. Let’s call it 20 divisions, on average.

Now, each of those divisions will have a champion. That’s somewhere around 60,000 champions. Of those organizations, probably 10 percent compete internationally. That means that at any given time, there are probably at least 6,000 “world champions.”

So the question really is, Is there one overall world champion?

No. That would be almost impossible to arrange and certainly impossible to determine. How, in a world of 6 billion people, could anyone claim to be the best fighter?

Sure, certain organizations have world champions, and they’re deservedly celebrated. But no organization that’s ever existed could generate a true overall world champion.

There Are Death Matches

Despite movies like Bloodsport, there are no death matches, and nobody ever became a world champion by competing in such an apocryphal event. Claims of this nature started in the 1960s with martial artists like the infamous Count Dante, who said he became a master after having killed other masters in secret death matches.

If death matches did exist, they certainly wouldn’t attract the best martial artists. It’s hoped that a life spent learning the arts wouldn’t result in a person being so insecure about his skills that he’d need to risk his life to obtain validation—which he would then have to keep secret. Likewise, it’s hoped that a study of the martial arts and the codes of honor on which they’re built have engendered within us an emotional and psychological balance that doesn’t embrace homicide as a recreational activity.

Masters Are Always Calm and Serene

Being at the master level of the martial arts doesn’t leave a person with the pithy insights of Yoda or the serene wisdom of Master Po. Masters may be farther down the road than the average person, but they’re just as prone to stress, anxiety, passion, joy, anger and all the other human emotions. It’s hoped that they’ve learned to regulate the extremes of those emotions—just as it’s hoped that the years they’ve spent on the mat have given them a real insight into honorable behavior, manners and some of the philosophies of life.

But wisdom is as individual as skill, and those who pursue it have a better chance of attaining it than do those who wait for it to come along as a rite of passage.

Bottom line: No matter what color belt we wear, we’re all human. And that’s a good thing to know.

Women Can’t Do Martial Arts Well

That old myth is ready for the scrap heap. Aside from the fact that women like Cynthia Rothrock, Karen Sheperd and Michelle Yeoh have proved themselves to be compelling action heroes of the cinema, at the tournament and dojo level, there have been thousands of superior female fighters and practitioners, and with each generation there are more.

But let’s take a quick stroll back through history. About 2,000 years ago, during China’s Spring and Autumn Period, a woman named Yu Niu competed in a seven-day sword contest organized by the king and was chosen as the champion over 3,000 swordsmen. Then in the fifth century, there was a princess named Ming-Lian, the daughter of Emperor Liang Wu Di, who became the only female student of the legendary Bodhidharma. A century later, there was Mulan—yes, the one they based the Disney cartoon on—who’s considered a heroine in China. And don’t forget that wing chun was invented by a Buddhist nun for use by women.

In the 20^th century, there have been hundreds of female champions, fighters, demo experts, competitors and instructors. Women like Graciela Casillas, Cheryl Wheeler and Kathy Long have kicked serious holes through the women-can’t-fight myth.

A variation of this myth is that women can’t do the martial arts as well as men. It’s a silly statement to make—like saying short people can’t do the martial arts as well as tall people, or that thin people can’t fight as hard as heavy people.

This argument barely holds water when discussing full-contact martial arts because they’re weight-class-based. Sure, a 120-pound woman can’t effectively fight a 235-pound man in the ring, but neither can a 120-pound man. Weight and body mass are what matters in combat sports.

Remember that the majority of martial arts were developed specifically to allow smaller and weaker people to defend themselves against larger and stronger attackers.

A Black Belt Can Take on a Whole Crowd

No human being can make that claim with absolute certainty, whether he has a black belt or not.

In the movies, you can often see the hero fending off a slew of bad guys. Pay attention, and you’ll generally see the thugs standing in a wide circle and conveniently attacking one or two at a time. That leaves the hero free to engage in a series of one-on-one fights.

In reality, when one person faces a gang, the gang will fall on the person like a wall. Standing by and waiting for one’s turn to rush in and be thrashed is something you’ll never see on the street.

Does that mean a single person can’t defeat multiple attackers? Of course not, because there have been many cases in which it’s happened. Sometimes the defender was a martial artist; sometimes he was just a person who was tough and aggressive enough to carry the moment.

The theories behind multiple-attacker defenses are sound and workable, given the right training and a lot of luck, but being a black belt is no guarantee of success. There are a lot of variables to consider: the number of attackers, the ratio of their size and strength to the defender’s, the fighting skill and experience of the attackers, the location, the presence of weapons, the element of surprise, the health of the combatants and so on.

No rank or belt is a guarantee of anything in self-defense. Every encounter is unique and must be handled accordingly.

(In the February 2006 issue of Black Belt, Jonathan Maberry will give you the lowdown on six more martial arts myths.)

About the author: Jonathan Maberry has written more than 700 articles and several books, including Ultimate Jujutsu Principles and Practices, and The Martial Arts Student Logbook. He holds an eighth-degree black belt in jujutsu and a fifth degree in hapkido. For more information, visit http://www.jonathanmaberry.com.