Our martial arts history has an age-old debate about the roots, stems, branches, and leaves. I’ve written previously about the differences between Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and Japanese Jujitsu. This post takes a different look at what we call “Jiu-Jitsu” by critiquing our preconceived notions. My point is to get at just what we are talking about when we talk about Jiu-Jitsu.  

While talking to my friend Scott and a few other Jiu-Jitsu guys at his academy, the question was asked, “What is Jiu-Jitsu?” First, Jiu-Jitsu is a sound that comes out of my mouth to signify a personal concept of a particular martial art style. Second, I don’t think there is one universal Jiu-Jitsu that we can all, with 100% accuracy, describe as “The Jiu-Jitsu” (to the Gracie fans, please accept my apologies in advance). As Scott discusses in one of his videos, Jiu-Jitsu is as diverse as cars, and each person has an individual preference for the ideal ride.

The 10th Planet nogi guys consider their Jiu-Jitsu the best version, while the Gracies think their Jiu-Jitsu the authoritative Jiu-Jitsu. Judo guys tend to see BJJ as “basically just Judo.” The Japanese Jiu-Jitsu guys see Judo and Jiu-Jitsu as new interpretations of their art. Yes, these are gross generalizations, but the sentiment will suffice for this post.

What differentiates the styles is the end game, the game’s rules more precisely. This is fine if we agree to play the game by its rules. But what happens when we turn the game into a system with rank, standards, objectives, etc.? Who gets to determine the standard for promotion and rank? Who is the ultimate authority in any of the arts mentioned above?

In his book, The Ethical Fantasy of Rhetorical Theory, Ira Allen talks about anti-foundationalist teaching. He means we need something to stand on and teach as a standard or measure to evaluate. However, he also notes how that doesn’t necessarily mean that any particular teaching or standard has the ultimate authority. The ultimate authority is much more temporal and local than universal.

The Gracies and Jigoro Kano were pioneers and, arguably, temporal and local authorities. However, as they pass and have passed on, their grip on the systems they pioneered lessens, and the new age takes its moment. Some might mourn the passing of tradition and possibly the loss of their conception of the art. But just as languages and cultures change with time, and some cease to exist, martial arts of all kinds change, modify, adapt, and morph with each new generation of practitioners.

I don’t see this change as necessarily bad, as I subscribe to Nietzsche’s concept of becoming, wherein change and evolution are the key components of life. I do, however, understand the need for consistency in some areas. The middle ground between the two dissimilar points, standards and change, is being attentive to how each new individual who enters our academies offers the potential to re-invent and re-create our art. Following Ronald C. Arnett’s work, we are in a time of learning. Let’s embrace it and learn not only what Jiu-Jitsu is, but also what it can become.

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