One common definition of insanity is performing the same action over and over again while expecting different results each time.  The corollary to this definition's implications is the tag line, "If what you're doing isn't working, do something else."  There is a lot of debate within the martial arts community regarding what does and does not work.  This debate often becomes so rancorous that one is moved to wonder why such anger characterizes martial discussion.  The answer?  Ego, investment, and resulting cognitive dissonance.

While I don't consider myself some paragon of the martial arts, I like to think the attitude with which I approach them is the most conducive to effective self-defense training.  I do not bring any personal investment or ego to my training.  If the arts in which I currently train were not effective, I would not care to learn them.  When one of my teachers makes a statement with which I do not agree, I ask questions until I am satisfied with the answers.  When I find a particular technique inadvisable, I don't do it.

I treat my teachers with the respect and the admiration they are due, but they treat me with equal respect.  I am not their slave and they do not see themselves as my masters.  They are humble, not arrogant.  They speak in terms of the people who taught them, not in terms of their own prowess.

Their goals are mine.  They seek to produce effective fighters, while I seek to become an effective fighter.  If a teacher or instructor has some other goal in mind, you must reevaluate your relationship with that mentor.

I'm hinting at a pervasive problem within the martial arts community:  the use of combative programs of any kind to form one's sense of self.  This is mentally, emotionally dangerous.  If one's art or one's desire to be seen as a great fighter dominates one's sense of being, any criticism of one's training and any evidence of functional deficiency is treated as a personal affront.  Those who feel attacked naturally lash out in counterattack.  This produces endless hostility and interminable arguments.

I know of a martial arts instructor , or example, whose sense of self is so integral to his art that he becomes angry at even the most diplomatic criticisms of that art.  He publicly flatters and exaggerates the credentials of anyone who agrees with him, while denigrating and personally attacking anyone who does not share his opinion of his style.  He becomes so angry, in fact, that he makes enemies almost everywhere he goes.

Compare this behavior – if you have any exposure to the martial arts, I'm willing to bet you've seen it before – to the behavior of an instructor whom you respect.  Chances are that the teacher you respect will answer questions and criticisms with explanations of his style's philosophy and techniques.  I'll bet, like many teachers I know, that he or she won't waste a lot of time arguing with people who don't believe in what he or she does.  Such a teacher probably doesn't spend much time thinking about such critics at all.

The heavily ego-invested practitioner does not cope well with criticism of his art because he sees it as an attack on his person, criticism of who he is and how he sees himself.  Worse yet, he will ignore evidence of a lack in his style because of the cognitive dissonance it creates.  We could define cognitive dissonance as the feeling of discomfort that results when what we want to believe conflicts with what is.  We don't like to learn that something in which we believe isn't what we thought it was.  If our sense of self is wrapped up in that belief, we are insulted by, outraged at, and fearful of ideas that conflict with it.

Mild expressions of ego-investment include the excuses people make when their art's techniques don't work.  "He attacked me wrong" and "I'm used to doing this technique on smaller people" are two notorious examples.  In extreme cases, the practitioner will accuse a critic of being on a "crusade," of pursuing a personal grudge, simply because that critic is not a "believer."

In its worst form, ego-investment becomes delusional architecture.  The martial arts world is rife with pretenders who affect experience and knowledge they do not possess, sometimes fabricating military backgrounds (especially those in "special ops" and "secret agent" fields) and telling wholly made-up stories about their alleged exploits.  This fantasy behavior is the natural outgrowth of the desire to be seen as powerful, as special, as "tough," that is the activating ingredient in so many pretenders' senses of self.

Interestingly, those pretenders most deeply enmeshed in fantasies of martial prowess often respond to critics of their made-up stories by projecting their weaknesses.  They are quick to accuse others of having such fantasies and eager to be seen as "reluctant tough guys."  They often hint at things they'd like to tell you about, but which they cannot (because such information is classified, of course).  Their accusations in the course of arguments reveal much about what's going on inside their minds.

The only cure for investment and ego in the martial arts is to separate the art from the artist.  Those who achieve a high degree of skill in what they do generally come to understand the difference (though if they don't they become those rare arrogant practitioners who can back up their boasting).  Keep in mind, as you interact with others in the self-defense community, that to criticize the style or the techniques someone practices is not to criticize the person practicing them.  If you encounter those who are insecure, whose fragile egos are intertwined with their systems, know that you will be seen as an enemy for tipping their sacred cows.

Pity them, but do not accept their excuses.  Face them objectively, fairly, and critically.  Understand the powerful motivator that is cognitive dissonance.