The False Soul of Budō: Ilyenkov, Jacobs, and the Myth of Moral Transformation
Dedicated to all who journey toward—and help to form—the soul of budō
“One is not born a person but becomes one.” — Evald Ilyenkov (in Jacobs, 2024, p. 4)
Across the global martial arts community—from the dōjō of the Japan Karate Association to the worldwide branches of Aikikai—one promise unites otherwise divided organisations: training will make you a better person. Promotional brochures speak of “character,” “discipline,” and “respect” as natural consequences of practice. Yet such rhetoric, however well-intentioned, has long since ossified into ideology. The ethical claim of budō has been reduced to a consumer guarantee, a marketing slogan assuring parents that violence will ennoble their children. What remains is a mask of morality, not its substance.
Masks and Faces
Isabel Jacobs’ essay On the Soul: Ilyenkov’s Theory of Personality (2024) offers a remarkable lens through which to re-examine this moral mythology. Drawing on the Soviet philosopher Evald Ilyenkov, she reminds us that “a person is not born with inherent qualities; their body and mind are formed through experience and social activity” (p. 1). In Ilyenkov’s dialectical anthropology, personality (lichnost’) is not a private moral kernel but a social creation--“a knot of relations that arise between individuals in collective activity” (p. 4). An ethical being is therefore never an inner possession; it is a mode of participation. By that measure, the idea that budō can individually bestow Virtue is an illusion. A karateka does not “become good” through repetition of kata any more than a bureaucrat becomes just by memorising a code of conduct.

Ilyenkov’s image of the mask (persona) and face (litso) is particularly apt. “And it also happens that the mask becomes so firmly affixed,” he wrote, “that [one’s] former personality slowly atrophies from disuse” (p. 1). The modern martial arts world is filled with such masks—ritual bows, moral slogans, the façade of humility—beneath which lie ordinary rivalries and commercial ambition. The tragedy is not hypocrisy per se but alienation: when gestures meant to express ethical life harden into empty performance, the face of practice disappears. What survives is the moral costume of budō.

The Soul of the Dōjō
Contrast this with the ethical seriousness of the ancients whom modern budō so readily invokes. Confucius warned, “To see what is right and not do it is want of courage” (Analects 2:24). Virtue (ren) was never politeness or docility; it was courageous moral discernment enacted through right relationship. Likewise, Takuan Sōhō, in The Unfettered Mind, cautioned the swordsman that “the mind must not be fixed anywhere”—ethical freedom being inseparable from mental clarity. Both thinkers understood self-cultivation as ceaseless labour, the ongoing negotiation between impulse and reason, self and other. By comparison, the modern dōjō’s moral instruction—“be respectful,” “show spirit”—appears thin, procedural, and essentially detached from reflection on what goodness entails.

Jacobs’ discussion of Ilyenkov’s concept of the soul illuminates why this hollowness matters. “The soul,” she notes, “is located not inside an individual body, but precisely outside it—in the system of real relationships … binding them as if into one body” (p. 6). The true “soul” of budō, then, is not hidden in the heart of the lone practitioner but emerges in the relational field of training: senpai and kōhai, teacher and student, attacker and receiver, all joined in the dialectic of embodied trust. Yet under capitalist conditions, that collective soul is commodified. The dōjō becomes a service provider; the practitioner, a consumer of Virtue. In Ilyenkov’s terms, this is pseudomaterialism—a mechanical imitation of ethical practice divorced from the labour of mutual recognition.

Hands, Labour, and Phronesis
For Ilyenkov, thinking and becoming are hand-work. “It is not the brain that thinks,” he writes, “but an individual entwined in a net of social relations, always mediated by material objects” (p. 13). In this light, kata and kumite—understood here not as competitive sparring but as any moment of training with another, any time two hands meet—are not moral rituals in themselves; they are opportunities for phronesis—the practical wisdom Aristotle described as the capacity “to decide what to do in light of what there is most reason to do” (Nicomachean Ethics VI.5). The bow, the strike, the parry, the shared rhythm of breath and timing—all are ethical materials through which reason can take form, but only if the practitioner engages them consciously and collectively. Without that dialogue, movement decays into etiquette, and etiquette into spectacle.

Toward the Soul of Budō
The ethical promise of budō has never been about moral elevation but about encounter—an unending practice through which one meets both the world and the self without illusion. Read through Jacobs’ Ilyenkov, this practice becomes a kind of phronesis: the lived, practical wisdom that arises only in relation, through the collective shaping of body, mind, and circumstance. Moral growth in martial arts is neither automatic nor inward—it is dialectical, a social and material creation born of struggle, reflection, and care. To practise budō ethically is to work, hand and mind together, within a community of others striving toward what Confucius called yi—rightness of action, not righteousness of appearance.

Budō will not make us better people on its own. But practised as the collective labour of recognition—as an art of relation rather than a commodity of Virtue—it may still teach us to see, in Ilyenkov’s words, “through the eyes of another person, through the eyes of all other people” (Jacobs, 2024, p. 14). Only there, in that mutual gaze, does the true face of budō appear.

Postscript
This idea has been germinating in my mind since my budō teacher, Miyase-sensei, first planted it there over fifteen years ago. Sensei is gone, yet I continue to learn from the kindness he embodied and from his unwavering commitment to excellence. What he taught through presence, patience, and precision remains a living reminder that the soul of budō is formed not in words, but in the quiet discipline of care.

References

• Aristotle (2011), Nicomachean Ethics. London: University of Chicago Press.
• Confucius (2017). The Analects, trans. Edward Slingerland. Indianapolis: Hackett.
• Jacobs, I. (2024). On the Soul: Ilyenkov’s Theory of Personality. Berlin: Brill.
• Takuan Sōhō (1986) The Unfettered Mind, trans. William Scott Wilson. Tokyo: Kodansha.

日本語要約（要旨）本稿は、イリェンコフ（Evald Ilyenkov）の人格論をイザベル・ジェイコブズ（Isabel Jacobs, 2024）の解釈を通して再読し、「武道を学べば人間的に成長できる」という現代武道の道徳的神話を批判的に検討するものである。
多くの武道団体や道場は、稽古によって「良い人間」になれると主張する。しかし、著者はそれを理念的・商業的なスローガンに過ぎないとみなし、倫理的実践の空洞化を指摘する。イリェンコフによれば、人間の人格（личность）は生まれつき備わるものではなく、社会的活動のなかで形成される「関係の結び目（knot）」である。したがって、徳や人格は個人の内面にあるのではなく、他者との共同的な行為を通して生まれるものである。
この観点からすれば、武道の本質的な修行とは、孤立した自己鍛錬ではなく、関係的・社会的な実践である。型（kata）や組手（kumite）は、競技的な技術ではなく、二人の身体と心が交わる瞬間、つまり「二つの手が出会う」場として理解されるべきである。そこにおいて初めて、アリストテレスが説いた実践的知（phronesis）——状況に応じて最も妥当な行為を判断する知恵——が生まれる。
また、孔子の「義（yi）」や沢庵宗彭の「心はどこにも止まってはならぬ」という教えを引用しつつ、著者は古代思想における道徳的修養の深さを現代武道の表層的な「礼節」教育と対比する。真の「武道の魂」は、個人の内面に宿るのではなく、師弟・先輩後輩・稽古相手など、他者との関係性のなかで形づくられる「共同的思考の身体」であると結論づける。
本稿は、武道を「より良い人間になる手段」としてではなく、人間と人間が共に人格を形成し合う社会的・倫理的な営みとして再評価するよう呼びかける。著者は、武道が「他者の眼を通して世界を見る」力を与えるときにこそ、その真の顔—--the true face of budō——が現れると説く。

Among contemporary karate and budō schools, it has become increasingly common to hear claims that a particular dōjō offers a “curriculum.” At first glance, this may sound reassuring, even professional. In reality, however, what is usually meant is not a curriculum at all but a syllabus: a sequential list of techniques, kata, and drills arranged by an instructor according to what they consider a logical progression.
While there is nothing inherently wrong with a syllabus, the uncritical use of the word curriculum misleads. It invokes the weight of educational discourse without embracing its responsibilities. In effect, it becomes yet another marketing tool, designed to lend credibility to a practice that may be only loosely pedagogical.

What a Curriculum Is — and Is Not.
In education, curriculum carries significant philosophical and pedagogical weight. It is not simply “what is taught,” but encompasses:

• Aims and outcomes: the purposes of learning, the qualities to be developed.
• Content: the breadth, depth, and selection of knowledge and skills.
• Pedagogy: how learning unfolds and why.
• Assessment: how growth is measured, validated, and reflected upon.
• Values: the cultural, ethical, and social purposes underpinning education.

Curriculum is also always a political and economic instrument. Central authorities — ministries of education, governments, accrediting bodies — use curricula to codify norms, transmit cultural values, and shape future citizens. What is included or excluded is never neutral; it reflects contested struggles over identity, ideology, and purpose.

As an educator whose doctoral research focused precisely on how power, culture, and normative assumptions shape teaching, I cannot help but note how casually the term curriculum has been lifted into karate discourse. In schools and universities, curriculum is debated, contested, and politically charged. In budō, it is too often reduced to a neat list of “things to be done” — stripped of context, reflection, and accountability.

The Historical Roots of Karate’s “Curriculum”
Even the categories of kihon–kata–kumite — now treated as the universal building blocks of karate pedagogy — are far from timeless. They reflect a particular post-war project, spearheaded by the Japan Karate Association (JKA) under Nakayama Masatoshi.

Nakayama, a senior student of Funakoshi Gichin, systematised karate in the 1950s–70s into a structured, exportable model. His Best Karate volumes codified training into neat stages: basic drills, formal kata, and controlled sparring. This was crucial for karate’s spread into universities, schools, and eventually into global sport. Yet in the process, Funakoshi’s more holistic emphasis on karate-dō as ethical cultivation was sidelined.

Many Okinawan ryūha — Shōrin-ryū, Gōjū-ryū, Uechi-ryū — never relied on kihon as an isolated drill category. In those traditions, the kata themselves embodied both basics and applications, and the separation into “basics–forms–sparring” would have seemed artificial.

Thus, what is now presented globally as karate’s “curriculum” is in fact a JKA invention, reflecting the politics of post-war Japan, the drive to modernise martial arts, and the desire to make karate resemble a school subject.

Curriculum as Marketing
Here lies the deeper critique. To speak of a “curriculum” in karate is not neutral. In formal education, curriculum is a tool through which authorities codify not only knowledge but also citizenship, values, and identities. It is an exercise in cultural power.
In contrast, karate’s use of the term often arises from the pressures of globalisation and institutionalisation. As karate spread into Western schools, universities, and sports federations, the language of “curriculum” provided an aura of legitimacy. It reassured parents, appealed to educational administrators, and aligned martial practice with modern institutions. Yet it did so without adopting the political and ethical responsibilities the word implies.

Towards a Genuine Martial Arts Curriculum
If budō schools wish to use the word curriculum seriously, they must embrace its full implications. This would mean:

• articulating the aims of training (self-defence, cultural transmission, ethical cultivation, sport, or some combination);
• clarifying the values that underpin teaching;
• aligning pedagogy with those aims;
• developing assessments that capture not only reproduction of form but growth in understanding, adaptability, and ethical sensibility;
• acknowledging the cultural, political, and economic context in which martial practice unfolds.

Anything less is not a curriculum, but a syllabus dressed up in borrowed authority.

Conclusion
The misuse of “curriculum” in karate is not just a semantic slip. In education, curriculum is the central tool through which states and institutions define what counts as knowledge and shape future citizens. To apply the same word to a list of kata or drills, stripped of social or ethical reflection, is to misrepresent both education and budō.
Perhaps the real question is not whether karate has a curriculum, but whether karate is willing to accept the responsibilities that the word entails.


日本語の要約 (Japanese Summary)
今日、多くの空手道場や武道団体が「カリキュラム」を持つと主張している。しかし、実際にはそれは教育的意味でのカリキュラムではなく、単なるシラバス、すなわち技や型、組手を順番に並べたリストに過ぎないことが多い。
教育学においてカリキュラムとは、学習の目的、価値、方法、評価、そして社会的・政治的文脈を含む包括的な枠組みであり、国家や制度が市民性を形作るための政治的・経済的ツールでもある。これに対して、空手で使われる「カリキュラム」という言葉は、主にマーケティング用語として機能しており、真の教育的責任を伴っていない。
現在広く知られている「基本・型・組手」の三分法も普遍的なものではなく、戦後の日本空手協会（JKA）と中山正敏による国際化プロジェクトの産物である。沖縄の諸流派では必ずしもこの枠組みは用いられていない。
したがって、もし空手が本当に「カリキュラム」を名乗るのであれば、その言葉が持つ責任を引き受けなければならない。それは単なる技術の伝達ではなく、文化的・倫理的・社会的文脈を含めた教育的プロジェクトであるべきだ。

A Note to Readers
I must begin with an apology to regular readers for my long silence. The past eight months have been entirely consumed by my return home to Ireland and the search for a secure teaching post. Although the move itself has been in preparation for over four years, these recent months have been the decisive and most demanding stage — a period that absorbed not only my time and focus, but also no small measure of my health.

With a position now secured and my belongings on their way across the sea, I am at last able to turn my attention back to writing. I look forward to resuming my regular reflections and reviews on matters related to Japanese budō and international education. Thank you sincerely for your patience and for bearing with me during this absence.

Friday Academic Review: The Ethics and Ideologies of Self-Defence (Cardiff University, 2024)
Citation
Cardiff University, School of Journalism, Media & Culture. (2024). The Ethics and Ideologies of Self-Defence. Symposium Call for Papers. Cardiff University.

Self-Defence and the Karate Debate.
It takes only a glance across the martial arts landscape to see how contested the very idea of “self-defence” has become. A YouTube video promising “five deadly karate moves for the street” might sit alongside a glossy seminar on “reality-based defence”, both claiming to deliver authenticity while disparaging one another. In Ireland, I have seen dōjō market traditional kata as “proven self-defence”, while others dismiss this as ritualised performance with little real-world application.

This paradox is at the heart of karate’s modern identity crisis: training is frequently justified as goshin-jutsu (self-protection), yet what practitioners mean by that term varies enormously. For some, self-defence resides in decoding kata, while others point to the need for scenario drills, awareness training, and legal literacy. The Cardiff symposium The Ethics and Ideologies of Self-Defence (2024) steps into this contested field, insisting that before we can answer “what works”, we must first ask a deeper question: what do we mean when we speak of self-defence at all?

Summary of the Symposium Call
The symposium call frames its guiding question starkly: “What are the ethics and ideologies of self-defence?” (Cardiff University, 2024, p. 1). It draws attention to the historical unevenness of the right to defend oneself, observing that “the right to self-defence has been heavily allocated to certain subjects (e.g., white, propertied, male) and withheld from others” (ibid.). Women’s self-defence, it notes, was a crucial part of first-wave feminism in the UK (Dodsworth, 2019; Godfrey, 2012), while more recent work positions learning to fight as a potentially emancipatory act of “physical feminism” (McCaughey, 1997).

Philosopher Elsa Dorlin pushes the debate further, asking: “Is self-defence ethical? Is teaching self-defence ethical, and who can or should teach whom?” (Dorlin, 2022). The symposium builds on this, questioning the very boundaries of the self and the scope of defence: does it end with the body, or extend to the mind, clothing, architecture, or digital infrastructures? “Almost everything that humans have done to ward off one or another kind of threat might be viewed as self-defence” (Cardiff University, 2024, p. 2, citing Sloterdijk, 2013).

The media’s influence is also highlighted. From newspaper moral panics to cinematic tropes and gaming environments, the ways we imagine threats profoundly shape both practice and pedagogy. The organisers conclude that interpersonal self-defence is not simply technical know-how but a “complicated and controversial ethical, ideological and political matter” (ibid., p. 3).

Situating the Symposium within the Field
The Cardiff symposium aligns with the expanding intellectual project of martial arts studies, which has consistently treated combat practices not as neutral skill sets but as cultural texts. Paul Bowman’s scholarship (2015, 2021, 2023) is particularly resonant, situating martial arts within media circulation and ideological production. The symposium also draws heavily on feminist theory (McCaughey, 1997; Dodsworth, 2019), critical race scholarship (Light, 2017), and philosophical approaches to violence and protection (Dorlin, 2022; Sloterdijk, 2013).

In doing so, it poses a critical challenge to martial arts and karate practitioners alike. Rather than assuming that “self-defence” is a natural or universal good, we must recognise it as an historically and ideologically conditioned discourse.

Critical Observations
The text is, of course, a call for papers rather than a finished study. Its contribution lies in shaping an intellectual agenda rather than presenting definitive answers. Nevertheless, it raises several crucial issues.

First, the expansive scope—suggesting that almost any defensive gesture across history might qualify as self-defence—risks diluting analytic precision. Yet this breadth is not without purpose: it reminds us that logics of protection permeate every level of human culture, from national security doctrines to everyday bodily comportment.

Second, its emphasis on ideology cuts against the grain of standard karate pedagogy. Too often, bunkai (applications) are presented as timeless truths, as though kata encode universally valid strategies. By contrast, the symposium insists that “what counts” as defence is always a product of historical fears, cultural fantasies, and social norms.

Third, the ethical lens cannot be ignored. To describe karate as “self-defence” is not a neutral act. It positions instructors as arbiters of who deserves protection, what forms of violence are deemed legitimate, and whose lives are considered worth defending. In Irish dōjō, for example, women-only classes are sometimes framed as empowerment initiatives, yet without addressing whether they inadvertently reinforce assumptions about women’s vulnerability. Similarly, some seminars on knife defence play into racialised stereotypes of urban threat. These examples demonstrate why the ethical interrogation demanded by the symposium is so necessary.

Contribution to the Field
The symposium’s most significant contribution is to destabilise the complacent invocation of “self-defence” as a justification for martial practice. In doing so, it bridges martial arts studies, feminist theory, philosophy, and cultural studies. For karate in particular, it highlights that appeals to self-defence are not guarantees of authenticity but ideological claims that require scrutiny.

This does not diminish karate’s potential relevance. Instead, it forces practitioners and scholars alike to ask more complex questions: What are we teaching when we say we are teaching self-defence? Whose safety are we prioritising? What social narratives are we reinforcing?

Directions for Further Research
Several productive avenues follow from this intervention:

• Comparative studies of how karate organisations in different cultural contexts articulate self-defence, and what ideological assumptions underlie those framings.
• Analyses of how “reality-based” self-defence diverges ethically and pedagogically from traditional karate.
• Ethnographic research on the intersections of gender, race, and class in karate-based self-defence instruction.
• Historical inquiry into Okinawan and Japanese discourses around goshin, asking whether earlier frameworks offered alternative ethical orientations to those dominant today.

These lines of inquiry promise to enrich both scholarship and practice.

Conclusion
The Cardiff symposium is more than an administrative call; it is a critical reframing of “self-defence” as an ethical and ideological problem. For karate practitioners, it punctures the assumption that invoking self-defence is enough to secure authenticity or relevance. Instead, it challenges us to interrogate the cultural, political, and ethical conditions underpinning that claim.
​
As part of this Friday Academic Review Thoughts series, this review builds on earlier reflections on Bowman’s The Invention of Martial Arts by continuing to examine how martial practice is shaped not just by physical techniques but by cultural discourses. If karate is to speak meaningfully of self-defence in the present, it must do so with awareness of whose selves are imagined, and what worlds are being defended.

日本語の要約 (Japanese Summary)
本稿は、カーディフ大学で開催されたシンポジウム「The Ethics and Ideologies of Self-Defence」（2024年）を取り上げ、その学術的意義を検討したものである。シンポジウムは「自己防衛」とは何かを問い直し、その権利が歴史的に白人男性に偏って与えられてきたことや、女性の自己防衛がフェミニズム運動において重要であったことを強調する。また、防衛の境界を身体に限らず、精神・衣服・建築・テクノロジーにまで広げて捉え、メディアが脅威と防衛の想像を形成してきたことを指摘する。
空手において「自己防衛」がしばしば正統性の根拠とされるが、これは中立的な概念ではなく、文化的・政治的・倫理的条件に左右される言説である。本シンポジウムは、技術的側面を超え、誰が誰を守るのか、どのような社会的物語を強化するのかを問い直す必要性を示している。

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Morgan, K. (2020). Martial Arts, Religion and Ressentiment. Presentation to the 6th Martial Arts Studies Conference, Martial Arts, Religion and Spirituality, July 2020.

Ressentiment and the Martial Arts: Towards a More Fraternal Discourse?An academic review of Kai Morgan’s “Martial Arts, Religion and Ressentiment” (2020).

In her 2020 conference paper Martial Arts, Religion and Ressentiment, Kai Morgan delivers a timely and philosophically informed analysis of a long-familiar pathology within martial arts culture: the persistent rivalries, dismissiveness, and tribalism that can define inter-style relations. Drawing on the philosophical tradition of ressentiment—primarily through Nietzsche, Scheler, and more recently, Tomelleri—Morgan reframes martial rivalries not merely as personality clashes or ideological disagreements, but as deeper, affectively charged expressions of perceived inferiority and inverted values.

Morgan’s paper contributes meaningfully to the maturing field of martial arts studies, particularly the branch that engages with critical theory and philosophy. Rather than focusing on technical efficacy or lineage histories, she explores how martial practice becomes entangled in social psychology, institutional hierarchies, and the ethics of recognition. In doing so, her work stands alongside scholars like Sixt Wetzler and Paul Bowman in framing martial arts not just as embodied disciplines, but as ideologically saturated and ethically contested cultural fields.

Her argument begins with a compelling analogy: just as religious denominations may seek similar ends but fall into mutual mistrust, martial artists often profess to pursue self-mastery, discipline, and growth—yet remain mired in suspicion and critique of others. As Morgan notes, “It’s a very common topic of conversation to say that such and such style is severely flawed and/or would never work on ‘the street.’” This dismissiveness, she argues, stems not only from insecurity but also from a deeper emotional structure: ressentiment.

Drawing from Nietzsche’s On the Genealogy of Morality (1887), Morgan defines ressentiment as a toxic inversion of values—wherein individuals or groups, unable to match others in strength or success, recast their own weakness as moral superiority. In Nietzsche’s words, this is the “transvaluation of values”—a process whereby “worldly power, wealth and success are seen as ‘bad,’ while meekness, humility and poverty are seen as ‘good.’” Morgan maps this neatly onto martial arts culture: a struggling school may denounce a more successful one as a “McDojo,” regardless of technical quality, thus claiming the moral high ground through critique rather than self-improvement.

Crucially, Morgan distinguishes between valid critique and ressentiment. It is not inherently wrong to criticise poor-quality instruction or commercial excess. The line is crossed, she argues, when “you’re jealous of their financial success, and telling yourself that their focus on money is immoral,” without any objective basis for judgement. This, she notes, is “ressentiment at work.”

Her paper offers several sharp examples. The “keyboard warrior” who lacks practical experience but issues withering critiques online; the teacher who eschews sparring and instead elevates esoteric energy work; or the practitioner who disdains MMA as “brutish,” yet has never stepped into a ring. In each case, ressentiment emerges not from philosophical difference, but from a defensive reframing of inadequacy.

Building on this analysis, Morgan brings in Max Scheler’s critique of Nietzsche. Writing in the early 20th century, Scheler rejects Nietzsche’s claim that Christianity causes ressentiment, instead locating the problem in the dissonance between modernity’s promise of equality and the ongoing reality of economic and social inequality. In Scheler’s view, societies with rigid hierarchies or actual equality suffer less from ressentiment; it festers most where aspiration and opportunity are out of sync. Morgan deftly applies this to martial arts dojos as “mini-societies”—structured but porous, often offering the illusion of empowerment without its lived reality. A black belt may feel powerful within their own gym, yet inadequate in the broader world, or threatened by rival instructors. Here, martial rank masks insecurity, and rivalry becomes psychological compensation.

Yet Morgan’s argument does not end in cynicism. Indeed, the most refreshing turn in her paper lies in her turn to Stefano Tomelleri’s reinterpretation of ressentiment as potentially transformative. For Tomelleri, ressentiment is not the province of the “morally weak,” as Nietzsche would have it, but a universal and even necessary experience. When acknowledged honestly, it can push individuals toward “growth, justice and transformation.” As Morgan writes, “Ressentiment… instead of poisoning the soul becomes the soul’s salvation.”

This transformative vision is rooted in Tomelleri’s concept of fraternity—not as benevolence, but as a mutual commitment to shared vulnerability and dialogue. Morgan aligns this with Ben Spatz’s notion of martial arts practice as a form of research, particularly one in which our training partners are also our rivals. The Japanese term aite (相手), meaning both “opponent” and “partner,” captures this tension beautifully. The dojo, then, becomes a site for ethical inquiry, where practitioners face both their technical limits and their emotional reactivity.

To conclude, Morgan introduces Steven G. Smith’s “bowl climbing” metaphor—a direct challenge to the tired trope of all martial arts being “different paths up the same mountain.” Smith suggests that in both religion and martial arts, we often appear to be asking the same questions, while actually seeking fundamentally different ends. Therefore, meaningful dialogue requires not consensus, but “shared seriousness about seeking what is worthiest to be sought.” This, Morgan argues, is a more honest and productive foundation for inter-style engagement.

Taken as a whole, Morgan’s paper is a rigorous, incisive, and ultimately hopeful intervention in the study of martial arts culture. Her fusion of Nietzschean critique, Schelerian sociology, and Tomellerian ethics offers a valuable theoretical framework for both scholars and practitioners. It also opens multiple pathways for further research. Ethnographic studies could explore how ressentiment operates in different martial subcultures—traditionalist, sportive, or commercial. Pedagogical work might examine how martial educators can cultivate fraternity in their dojos, turning envy into empathy and rivalry into research.

Morgan’s real gift here is to show that martial arts are not just about dominance, lineage, or even self-defence. They are about ethics, power, and meaning. And if we are willing to do the hard internal work, they might also be about transformation. As martial artists and scholars, we are not merely keepers of style or tradition—we are stewards of the culture we create through our interactions.

日本語概要：「武道、宗教、ルサンチマン ― カイ・モーガンによる理論的考察」カイ・モーガンの論文「武道、宗教、ルサンチマン」（2020年）は、武道界における流派間の対立や嫉妬、軽蔑の感情を、ニーチェやシェーラー、そしてトメッレリの哲学的概念「ルサンチマン」を用いて分析する、鋭い理論的アプローチです。
モーガンは、他流派への否定的な態度が、しばしば「道徳的優位性」を装った嫉妬や不安から生まれると主張します。たとえば、成功している道場を「マクドージョ」と軽蔑する態度には、しばしば自己の劣等感の裏返しが見られます。
このような価値の転倒をニーチェは批判しましたが、シェーラーは近代社会の不平等こそがルサンチマンの原因であると反論します。モーガンはこの議論を道場という「ミニ社会」に適用し、階層構造と現実の不一致が感情の歪みを生むと述べています。
一方、トメッレリの現代的な視点はより希望に満ちています。彼はルサンチマンを自己変容へのきっかけと捉え、「共に脆さを分かち合う」フラタニティ（兄弟愛）へと昇華する可能性を示唆します。武道の稽古がまさにそのような実践的・共同的探究の場であるという提案は、実践者にとっても研究者にとっても大きな示唆を与えます。
この論文は、武道を「単なる技術」ではなく、「倫理的・社会的探究の場」として再考させる重要な貢献であり、今後の研究にも応用可能な理論的枠組みを提示しています。

Book Release Blog: "Chinen: The Okinawan Years of a Karate Pioneer"

After over two decades of meticulous research, countless dead ends, and more twists and turns than a spy thriller, I am proud to announce the release of my new book, Chinen: The Okinawan Years of a Karate Pioneer. This work, which has been in the making for over 20 years, is now available for purchase on Lulu via this link.
This journey has not been an easy one. From the very beginning, the project was met with a near-constant opposition from various corners, particularly from those who felt threatened by the revelations and insights it contains. However, I was fortunate to have a small, dedicated group of supporters who believed in the importance of this work. Some of them, fearing the fallout that might come from revealing controversial truths, chose to remain anonymous, reflecting the sad state of modern Budō. The reluctance to confront uncomfortable truths within the community is something I found particularly disheartening, but it also highlighted the necessity of this project: to offer a deeper, more authentic perspective on the Okinawan roots of Karate that has been overlooked or distorted over time.
Chinen focuses on the formative years of one of Karate's pioneering figures in Okinawa, shedding light on lesser-known aspects of his life, training, and philosophy. It explores his interactions with key figures in Okinawan martial arts, delves into the historical context of the time, and reflects on the evolution of Karate from a regional tradition to a globally recognised martial art.
What sets Chinen apart is its unflinching approach to the subject matter. It doesn’t shy away from controversial topics or the challenges that the Karate community faces today. By providing a detailed historical account and a critical analysis of the man behind the legend, this book invites readers to reassess the way we view the martial art's history, and hopefully, encourage a more honest and open dialogue about its evolution.
The book not only offers a fresh perspective on a key figure in Karate's development but also aims to highlight the deep connections between Okinawan culture and the martial arts. For anyone invested in the future of Karate, Chinen is a call to return to the roots of the discipline, recognising its full historical context rather than settling for the simplified versions that often dominate the conversation.
I invite you to explore the stories and insights that make Chinen an essential addition to any martial artist's library. I believe this work will inspire both seasoned practitioners and newcomers alike to rethink what they know about Karate and the principles that have guided its practitioners for generations.
Order your copy now and embark on a journey through the Okinawan years of one of Karate's unsung pioneers.
Order Chinen: The Okinawan Years of a Karate Pioneer now

• James M. Hatch
  

書籍リリースブログ：「チネン：空手の先駆者の沖縄時代」
20年以上にわたる綿密な調査と、スパイ映画さながらの数々の行き止まりを経て、ついに私の新著『チネン：空手の先駆者の沖縄時代』を発表できることを誇りに思います。この書籍は、Luluで注文可能です。
このプロジェクトは決して容易なものではありませんでした。最初からこの書籍はさまざまな反対に直面しました。特に、この本に含まれる発見や見解に脅威を感じた一部の関係者からの反発がありました。しかし、私は少数の献身的な支援者たちに恵まれ、この仕事の重要性を理解してくれました。その中には、反響を恐れて匿名で支援してくれた方々もおり、これは現代の武道の悲しい現実を反映しています。武道コミュニティ内で不都合な真実に向き合うことへの躊躇が、特に残念に感じましたが、このプロジェクトが必要とされる理由を痛感しました。それは、空手の沖縄の根源に関する深く、真実に基づいた視点を提供することです。
『チネン』は、沖縄で空手の先駆者の一人として知られる人物の形成期に焦点を当て、彼の人生、訓練、哲学の知られざる側面を明らかにします。沖縄の武道の重要人物との関わりや当時の歴史的背景を探求し、空手が地域的な伝統から世界的に認知された武道へと進化した過程を反映しています。
この本の特徴は、内容に対する揺るぎないアプローチです。空手コミュニティが直面している課題や論争的なテーマから目を背けることなく、詳細な歴史的背景と、伝説の裏に隠れた人物の批判的分析を提供します。この書籍は、空手の歴史をどのように見るべきかを再考させ、進化についてより正直で開かれた対話を促進することを目指しています。
『チネン』は、空手の発展における重要な人物に新たな視点を提供するだけでなく、沖縄文化と武道との深い結びつきを強調することを目指しています。空手の未来に関心のあるすべての人にとって、この本はその伝統の根源に立ち返り、その完全な歴史的文脈を認識するための呼びかけです。簡略化されたバージョンにとどまらず、その本質を理解するための第一歩となるでしょう。
空手家の図書館に必携の一冊である『チネン』の物語と洞察をぜひご覧ください。この書籍は、空手の歴史とその哲学を再考させ、世代を超えた実践者にインスピレーションを与えることでしょう。
今すぐ注文して、空手の先駆者の沖縄時代を巡る旅を始めてください。
『チネン：空手の先駆者の沖縄時代』を今すぐ注文

• ジェームズ・M・ハッチ