How do fighters learn how to fight? An insiders' critique of traditional teaching methods

(this is an early version of a chapter that is going to appear in a book on the martial arts in the modern world. I will add publication details when I have them)

Tradition

During World War II in Britain when armaments were becoming scarce and use of manpower was critical, time-and-motion studies were made of gun crews in the artillery to see if the speed of operating could be increased. One of these studies looked at artillery crews. In many ways, the operation was impressive, with each of the soldiers smoothly following the well-choreographed process.  But one thing puzzled the observers: at a certain point, just before the firing of the gun, two of the men stood at attention away from the gun.  Once the gun was fired, they stepped back in to help.

Nobody seemed to know why the soldiers simply stood while the others carried on.  They just knew that it had to be done that way because it had always been done that way.  Then one day, the researchers met an old artillery Colonel.  He immediately knew the reason for the immobile soldiers.  He said that 50 years earlier, horses had been used to haul the big guns, before motor vehicles took over.  The time-and-motion people looked confused: “So how does that explain the two soldiers standing to attention, Sir?”  “Simple: they’re holding the horses!”

This blog entry focuses on the martial arts - the physical recreation that has occupied most of my adult life - and it seems to me that the martial arts have more than their share of horses!  (Much the same applies for many other activities, but I will hold off from mentioning them in the name of authorial discipline)

Even in this era of martial sports, Mixed Martial Arts, and street self-defence, the centre of gravity of combat activities lies firmly in the styles that sell themselves (whether explicitly or implicitly, honestly or dishonestly) as traditional.  Indeed, the appeal of these systems comes largely from the sense that they have survived for a very long time.  This sense is bolstered by the paraphernalia of training clothes based on the daywear of Japanese or Chinese peasants, the insistence that lessons take place in a foreign language, and the maintenance of a code of conduct often alien to most host countries.

The fact that hardly any of the styles taught in the West are as old as they imply is an awkward truth.  For example, three of the most popular styles, Shotokan Karate, Aikido, Tae Kwon Do were all invented during the Twentieth Century (Funakoshi, 1973; Park, Park, & Gerrard, 2009; Ueshiba, 1988).  Much the same can be said of versions of Chinese ‘kung fu’.  Whilst their students might like to think they are successors to a line that can be traced back to the mystical Shaolin Temple, they are much more likely to be a member of a school dating back just a few decades, the result of one of the endless splits and feuds that characterise the history of Asian martial arts (Green & Swinth, 2003).

The medium is the message, and tradition continues to be a dominant feature of most martial arts.  This is not necessarily a problem.  Quite the contrary: traditions are indispensable components of learning and knowing, and we would barely be able to function at all without accepting some sort of authority, custom and tradition.  Tradition can show us what has worked well in the past, and what has kept our predecessors alive.  However, in the words of the great Lemony Snicket (2004), 

“Just because something is traditional is no reason to do it, of course”.

Difficulties begin to rise when tradition becomes a thing in itself; when it is recognised as 'Tradition'.  Then tradition ceases to be an adaptable and living repository of learning and becomes a source of deadening authority.

This is what has happened in martial arts pedagogy.

Traditional martial arts pedagogy

There is an inherent danger facing anyone criticising practices that they describe as ‘traditional’, or ‘standard’, or 'conventional', and that is that they merely construct a ‘straw man’ to knock down.  A straw man argument occurs when the critic re-interprets a position in such a way that it is so weak or absurd than no sensible person would hold it.  And dishonest strategy is particularly easy to play in the martial arts, which are characterised by a huge degree of variation, contradictions, and tensions.  The martial arts are not a coherent clan, unified by a shared passion; they are a lose group of waring tribes!

Nevertheless, I maintain that not only is there such a thing as traditional martial arts pedagogy, but that its influence is so great it is practised even in styles that explicitly distance themselves from the past, such as Bruce Lee’s Jeet Kune Do, kickboxing and modern self-defence systems. (To be clear on this point, I am not suggesting that all instructors in these systems adhere to traditional approaches, but that many of them cannot separate themselves from them. For example, a JKD school I once attended taught the usual mixture of Kali, boxing and Wing Chun, using teaching methods that were indistinguishable from Shotokan Karate!)

This traditional pedagogy happens when most or all of the following criteria are met:

• a considerable amount of the session time is spent with students practising basic techniques without an opponent;
• when an opponent is involved, s/he is relatively immobile and compliant;
• predetermined, choreographed drills and patterns, such as kata, hyeong, or forms form a central feature of training.

That these elements can be sensibly described as the traditional approach to teaching martial arts is supported by numerous textbooks and academic studies (e.g., Cox, 1993; Layton & Bell, 1997; Lorge, 2011; Nakayama, 1977; Ohlenkamp, 2006; Theeboom & Knop, 1998).  It is also supported by practitioners themselves.  In preparation for this article I engaged in a series of conversations with martial artists of different styles from around the world via social media (specifically Twitter and LinkedIn).  If anything, their views of the importance of basic techniques and kata were more fundamentalist than those of the textbooks.  “Basics are everything”, I was told, “they lay the foundation for all that follows”.  “Kata is the time-honoured method for practising these techniques”, and “It must work because it has been around for centuries”.  In the words of one popular karate text, kata and their associated basic techniques represent the “key” to the martial arts, and traditional practice gives the student that key (van Weenen, 2002).  Significantly, though, none of these sources seemed willing or able to offer any coherent explanation about how basics or kata actually translated into improved fighting skills.

At this point, one thing needs to be made clear. As my title suggests, my primary concern is the effectiveness of martial arts pedagogy as a preparation for fighting.  I do not for a moment believe that this is the only, or even main reason why people would wish to undertake such activities.  There is little doubt that regular martial arts training can make positive contributions to participants’ health and well being (Abbott & Lavretsky, 2013; Woodward, 2009). It also seems capable of contributing to much wider personal, creative, and spiritual development (Nicol, 1975; Yuasa, 1993; Zarrilli, 1998).  However, my concern here is with what might arguably be considered the defining characteristic of the martial arts - combat.  In this respect, I claim, traditional pedagogy is ineffective.

Learning

Pedagogy - the art, craft and science of education - is a hotly contested topic among theorists (Hansen & Laverty, 2010).  But some themes are not controversial.  For example, it is beyond doubt that pedagogic practice is built upon theories of learning; that some of these theories are mistaken; and that’s decades of research have taught us a great deal about effective and ineffective pedagogy.

We also know that the long-standing view of the brain as a kind of blank slate (or empty container) onto which is written experiences is plain wrong (Pinker, 2003).  Babies enter the world hard wired with countless sources of knowledge and insight gleaned through thousands of years of evolution.  From that moment, the young child voraciously consumes information, seeking to understand, adapt to, and control issues or her environment.  By the time a student enters a martial arts club, therefore, he will she has an extensive biography of experience and knowledge which cannot help but influence any learning that takes place.  This is why the much-prized “beginner’s mind” of Zen Buddhism is an idealised aspiration rather than an everyday reality (Suzuki, 1970).  Consequently, no two people will leave a pedagogic encounter with the same learning, and the learning that does occur is not necessarily that which was intended by the teacher. Learning is essentially an active process, in which the learner struggles to construct meanings that are relevant to them from the situation.  As the great psychologist Jerome Bruner put it, “Stimuli ... do not act upon an indifferent organism” (Bruner & Postman, 1949, p. 206).

This point has an implication that is of enormous importance: teaching and learning have no necessary connection.  Most of my social media informants simply assumed that what was taught was what was learned.  But because an activity aims to teach a certain skill or knowledge does not mean that it will.  No matter how skilled or impassioned the teaching, unless the learner understands it and engages with it, there is no reason to suppose that he or she has learned and that he or she will be able to apply it.  The philosopher Karl Popper (1974) offered a useful way of understanding how this might work in practice. Learning, he suggested, has the character of problem solving, and is most likely to occur when teaching and experience provide solutions to problems that are real and meaningful to the learner.  So, if a martial artist is struggling to defend him/herself from a certain type of attack, and the instructor provides a workable solution, learning is very likely to take place, it will be remembered, and applied in future.  However, if the same instructor merely demonstrates a series of apparently arbitrary techniques that are then imitated by the students, those techniques are much less likely to be retained and applied (Bailey, 2000) (Since my focus is on martial arts pedagogy, I have not even gone into the sometimes bizarre techniques that  make up many kata and forms, and from which some folk make a decent living pretending to have found ways in which they might actually work in the real world!)

So, people learn best when learning situations are real and meaningful.  How does the teacher or instructor make sure that these conditions apply?  This is where another group of findings from research become relevant.  Situated learning emphasizes that learning is most effective when it is specific to the situation in which it is learned.  In other words, learning is most likely to occur when the context of teaching closely reflects the context of learning (Ramsden, 1984).  Swimming on dry land, for example, is a poor preparation for swimming in water because it lacks many of its defining characteristics (such as water).  Likewise, many people claim that schools fail to prepare their students because life in a classroom shares few of the features of the world into which the young people will enter.

Situated learning is actually made up of a number of claims, and each of them highlights the difficulties for traditional martial arts pedagogy (see Table 1).

Sources: Anderson, Reder, & Simon, 1996; Greeno, 1998; Lave & Wenger, 1991.

From the perspective of situated learning, then, traditional martial arts pedagogy fares rather badly because it fails to resemble the situations in which its skills will be applied.  Simply put, we learn what we do.  If any martial artist wishes to prepare for the complexity and chaos of a street fight, he or she will be badly served if the training is simple, ordered and decontextualized.

Photo courtesy of Jamie Clubb, Clubb Chimera

Techniques or Skills?

It was a traditional martial artist who first and most effectively translated the practical implications of this type of research for the martial arts, and for sport in general.  Geof Gleeson was the UK’s National Coach for Judo, and as a young man had lived and studied with the family of Judo's founder, Jigaro Kano.  Gleason made a number of innovations and provocative ideas (mostly resisted and ultimately ignored by the Judo establishment), but the one that is of most relevance to this discussion is his distinction between techniques and skills (Gleeson, 1983; 1989).  Gleeson’s initial target was what judo players call Uchikomi, or repetitive technical training.  It is worth remembering that, unlike most martial arts, practice of techniques in JUdo necessarily involves interaction with another player.  So, from the perspective of learning theory, judo (and other grappling sports) already have a significant advantage over other (punching and kicking) systems.  Nevertheless, Gleeson was critical of the use of Uchikomi for three main reasons:

1. Fixed routines: Uchikomi is often practiced as habitual patterns of movement.  However, Gleeson argued that judo is the practice and application of a skill, and habit and skill are not synonymous.  Gleeson further maintained that there was no necessary connection between the static repetition of a throw as Uchikomi and the dynamic performance of a throw when the players are in motion.

2. How the completion of a skill movement affects the improvement of the skill: the throw is rarely completed in Uchikomi practice. In fact, practice is often carried out with no movement of the players, non-completion of the throw and no realistic resistance from the partner.  Therefore, the player never really knows if he or she is performing the techniques correctly and effectively since there is no genuine feedback.  Gleeson’s conclusion was that not only will Uchikomi not help to improve throwing skill, but will actually impede any skill improvement.

3. Rhythmic pattern differences in static and dynamic movement: Non-movement of the partner and a stereotypical movement in and out of the position by the throw leads to a regular beat rhythm.  This never happens in competition fighting.  The movement patterns associated with fighting in training and competition are complex and contain endless variations of movement by both of the players.  Therefore, the transference of skills between the practice and performance is non-existent.

Gleeson conceded that the practice of Uchikomi may help to increase stamina and strength, but its value as a method of improving throwing skills in fighting situations is extremely limited (Gleeson, 1967).

Geof Gleeson teaching on an early International Budo Federation coaching course (your author is the keen young man in black)

Traditional martial arts pedagogy focuses on the development of technique (as almost all martial arts textbooks also do), and simply assumes that this will transfer into skilled performance against an opponent.  Gleeson’s central insight is that this is an error.  Technique cannot be treated in isolation, for there are many other things which affect and modify all techniques when they are converted into a competitive skill.  Ultimately, skill is much more about context that it is about technique, and it is context that needs to be taught, experienced and understood.  Uchikomi - which is actually a rather more dynamic and interactive form of basic technique training that is common in the majority of martial arts - is limited precisely because it confuses skilled performance with the repetition of mere technique.  Skill “can be defined only in terms of success, of achievement, of a goal” (Guthrie, 1952, p. 136).  So, skills are actions with some outcome in mind (Schmidt and Wrisberg, 2000), rather than mere physical actions.

The philosopher Hubert Dreyfus - as far as I am aware, not a martial artist - offered another argument, which seems to support Gleeson’s position.  Dreyfus took issue with the widespread view that road to expertise begins with the development of isolated elements (what Gleeson would call techniques): “meaningless, atomistic elements ... Nothing is intelligible to us unless it first shows up as already integrated into our world, fitting into our coping practices” (Wrathall, 2000, p. 95).  Dreyfus argued that if we were to go straight to the actual phenomena we are studying, and undertook a very detailed observation of the activities that they make up, it would be evident that we are not processing bits of information as we deal (or cope) with them.  In addition, Dreyfus introduces what he calls the 'argument from skills' (Wrathall, 2000) to show how the traditional view of learning by building up discrete bits of technique is problematic.  His argument can be paraphrased and reframed like this: if we are to understand how people learn to perform martial arts, and we follow the assumptions of traditional pedagogy, we will need not only rules for performing the techniques, but also a specification of the rules that allow us to know when specific techniques apply in different contexts.  The different techniques that make up the different skills necessary for successful fighting mean that we are talking about a huge number of rules.  But still further rules would seem to be needed to direct these rules, and so on for an infinite regress.

It is difficult to see how to escape this descend, without abandoning the traditional assumption that skilled performance is the result of acquired, developed and applied techniques.  However, the argument does not apply if performance in fighting is understood in terms of the learning of real and meaningful skills in real and meaningful contexts. In a nutshell: there is only one way to learn how to fight in the martial arts: fighting.  Of course, this need not always be fighting in the sense of “the real thing”.  It is possible (and sensible) to construct a programme of teaching and learning that simulates different aspects of fighting contexts, and encompasses many of the defining characteristics of fighting situations, which would include unpredictability, emotion, and contact.

Conclusion

Fighters learn to fight by fighting.  So, martial arts pedagogy, at least as it relates to preparation for fighting, is much simpler than is usually presented both in textbooks and by instructors.  Basic training and kata, in the way practised around the world have many virtues, but they are fundamentally flawed as preparations for fighting.  They survive not because they work, but because of the power and mythology of tradition in the martial arts.  And because critical thinking are rarely features of programmes.  They also gain sustenance by the fact that they all rarely tested in the crucible of real fighting. It is surely not a coincidence that systems that are regularly tested, whether in the relatively safe arena of full contact sport or in the real world, are much less likely to rely on traditional martial arts pedagogy.  They have learned that tradition is only of value to the extent that it keeps you fighting.

Your author competing in a Muay Thai event, Newcastle, 1989

References

Abbott, R., & Lavretsky, H. (2013) Tai chi and qigong for the treatment and prevention of mental disorders. The Psychiatric clinics of North America, 36(1), 109-119.

Anderson, J. R., Reder, L. M., & Simon, H. A. (1996) Situated learning and education. Educational researcher, 25(4), 5-11.

Bailey, R.P. (2000) Education and the Open Society: Karl Popper and Schooling.  Aldershot: Ashgate.

Bransford, J. D., Brown, A. L., & Cocking, R. R. (1999) How people learn. Washington, DC: National Academy Press

Bruner, J. S., & Postman, L. (1949) On the perception of incongruity: a paradigm. Journal of personality, 18(2), 206-223.

Cox, J. C. (1993) Traditional Asian martial arts training: A review. Quest, 45(3), 366-388.

Funakoshi, G. (1981) Karate-Dō: My Way of Life. Tokyo: Kodansha International.

Gleeson, G. R. (1967). Judo for the West. Kaye & Ward.

Gleeson, G. R. (1983) Judo inside out: a cultural reconciliation. London: Lepus Books.

Gleeson, G. R. (1989) Judo Games.  London: London: A & C Black.

Green, T. A., & Swinth, J. R. (Eds.). (2003) Martial arts in the modern world. Westport, CO: Greenwood Publishing Group.

Greeno, J. G. (1998) The situativity of knowing, learning, and research.  American psychologist, 53(1), 5.

Hansen, D. T., & Laverty, M. J. (2010) Teaching and Pedagogy. In R.P. Bailey, R. Barrow, & D. Carr, 2010). The Sage Handbook of Philosophy of Education. London: Sage Publishing, p. 223.

Lave, J., & Wenger, E. (1991) Situated Learning: Legitimate peripheral participation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Layton, C., & Bell, V. C. (1997) Slow movement as a function of advancement in the shotokan karate kata set. Perceptual and motor skills, 84(3), pp. 1009-1010.

Lorge, P. A. (2011) Chinese martial arts: from antiquity to the twenty-first century. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Nakayama, M. (1977) Best karate: comprehensive.  Tokyo: Kodansha international.

Nicol, C. W. (1975) Moving Zen: karate as a way to gentleness. London: Bodley Head.

Ohlenkamp, N. (2006) Black Belt Judo. London: New Holland Publishers.

Park, Y. H., Park, Y. H., & Gerrard, J. (2009). Tae Kwon Do: The ultimate reference guide to the world's most popular martial art.  New York: Facts on File Publishing.

Pinker, S. (2003) The blank slate: the modern denial of human nature. New York: Penguin.

Popper, K. R. (1974). The Philosophy of Karl Popper (Vol. 1).  La Salle, IL: Open Court Publishing Company.

Ramsden, P. (1984) The context of learning.  In F. Marton, D. Hounsell & N. Entwistle (eds), The Experience of Learning.  Edinburgh: Scottish Academic Press.

Snicket, L. (2004) A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Blank Book. New York: HarperCollins.

Suzuki, S. (1970). Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind.  Boston, MA: Shambhala Publications.

Theeboom, M., & Knop, P. D. (1998) Asian martial arts and approaches of instruction in physical education. European Journal of Physical Education, 4(2), 146-161.

Ueshiba, K. (1988) The spirit of Aikido. Tokyo: Kodansha International.

van Weenen, J. (2002) The Beginners Guide to Shotokan Karate.  Bedford: Paul Hooley and Associates.

Yuasa, Y. (1993) The body, self-cultivation, and ki-energy. New York: SUNY Press.

Woodward, T. W. (2009) A review of the effects of martial arts practice on health. Wisconsin Medical Journal, 108(1), 40.

Zarrilli, P. B. (1998) When the body becomes all eyes: Paradigms, discourses and practices of power in Kalarippayattu, a South Indian martial art. New Delhi: Oxford University Press.

Tom Daley and other Sporting Heroes

Homophobic bullying is endemic in sport.

The truth of this statement is so obvious that it hardly bares stating. Many of us/most of us who are coaches and teachers dedicate ourselves to offering life-enhancing experiences through sport, yet operate within a system that is simply not welcoming to lesbian, gay and bisexual and transsexual (LGBT) people.  Sometimes exclusion is stark and frightening. More often, it is more subtle.

On a few, rare occasions, I have seen coaches verbally abusing LGBT players in front of their peers.  When confronted, the coaches gave the same response: surprise.  They were only teasing, they said.  Just messing around.  It is no different from teasing someone about the colour of their hair, or their obesity!  Apparently, adding the phrase 'only joking' renders even the most offensive comment harmless.  If the player cannot take a bit of harmless banter, one told me, then maybe they should consider a different hobby.

Words like 'poof', 'queer' or 'dyke' are casually used in sports clubs to indicate some failure of an individual to meet an unstated, but unquestioned standard of manliness / femininity.  Boys and men who fail to perform in the acceptable manner are told that they "play like a girl".  Girls and women who play well, but without the required degree of femininity, are labelled "butch".  In many sports, a posturing machismo represents the norm against which all other behaviours are judged.  Lesbian, gay and bisexual usually fall outside of this norm.

Some sports are clearly worse than others.  It seems to be that tolerance for different lifestyles is least among the most high profile sports.  For example, when United States international footballer Robbie Rogers came out as gay, he was only the third footballer after England's Justin Fashanu and Swedish midfielder Anton Hysen to have come out. Fashanu killed himself in 1998.

It would be easy, not too depressing to continue this sort of analysis with other sports.

Sport should be a home for everyone.  People of vastly different backgrounds can be brought together in a shared love of a game. Sport offers a shared language that can overcome differences of all varieties.

That is the claim. And at its best, this claim is true.  But the power of sport to include can too easily be corrupted and turned towards exclusion.  When this happens, the power of the group can shift from friendship to alienation to bullying.

Many lesbian, gay and bisexual young people continue to live lives in which one of the most precious aspects of their existence - their sexuality - must be kept secret.  

According to the gay rights charity Stonewall, more than 55% of of lesbian, gay and bisexual school pupils have been bullied.  A 2012 report by Cambridge University found that one in four young lesbian, gay and bisexual people had tried to take their own life.

So, it seems to me, that the fact so many of us in sport continue to tolerate homophobic behaviour is shameful.  Few, I am sure, explicitly support bullying. But many of us implicitly endorse it by failing to challenge it directly, or by taking steps to reduce the chance that it ill arise in the first place.  We tell ourselves that "there is no problem here", or that homophobic comments to individuals are just playing and not serious.  But lesbian, gay and bisexual people tell us that they are serious, they are hurtful, and they reinforce an environment that can end in exclusion, bullying, or suicide.

The revelation by Olympic diver Tom Daley that he is now in a homosexual relationship was an act of remarkable bravery. Tom knows, as all of us in sport know, that such an admission can be risky. He is a public figure, so the statement about his sexuality open to to all manner of hurtful comments.  But he is also a role model for countless young sports people.  His honesty and openness should inspire anyone struggling with personal challenges.

Sporting stars like Robbie Rogers and Tom Daley are inspirations. However, the most powerful role models in the lives of young sporting people are not the elite, but those they meet on a day-to-day basis.  Evidence shows that the most influential people are the coaches, teachers, and older players within the club or team. They are the ones who set the standards of behaviour: by what they say, and by how they act.

The simple fact is that many gay young people will never join a sports club for fear of a homophobic behaviour and bullying.  Those who do may feel they must remain silent about a core aspect of their nature, their sexuality. Sports coaches and teachers are among the most trusted adults by young people.  Young people talk to us about problems at school, with their parents, with their friends, and this places a enormous responsibility on us all.

If we genuinely believe that sport is for all, we need to take the issue of homophobia in sport seriously. It will not go away without a concerted effort from everyone involved, at all levels. But it is coaches and teachers of sport who need to lead the way.

_____________

Former rugby international and 'Strictly' star Ben Cohen has launched a charity that focuses specifically on challenging homophobia, especially in sport.  Click on the image below to find out more, and Stand Up against all kinds of bullying.

The Art and Science of Crap Detection

One of the ironies of modern culture is that, despite the remarkable advances of science and medicine, many people continue to believe utter nonsense.

The sea of dubious information has clearly been fed by the emergence of social media.  Anyone who uses Twitter or Facebook will be confronted with a continual stream of bold claims, shocking controversies, and supposed secrets for improved health, wealth and happiness.  Some of these claims come from genuine experts, some come from people trying to make a fast buck, and some come from fools.

Telling the difference can be frustratingly difficult.

Two examples.  I've just been reading a report in a newspaper about advances in cancer treatment. The same issue also includes an article about the powers of Chinese "internal healing".  Another source, this time an online magazine, juxtaposes a piece about recent advances in brain science with a quiz inviting readers to find out whether they are "left brain" or "right brain" thinkers.

In case you are not clear yourself (and who could blame you?), there is no compelling evidence in favour of either internal healing or left/right brain thinking.  They might be attractive ideas. They might conceivably turn out to be true at some point in the future. But, in the words of the late, great Carl Sagan, "extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence".  And, at the moment, the evidence is missing.

The genius of social media is that it has democratised knowledge. Information is no longer the preserve of a select few.  We can all access vast amounts of information.  But democracy cannot work without an educated population.  It assumes that people have sufficient knowledge, skills, and understanding to make informed judgements about the decisions confronting them.

The simple fact is that the vast majority of people have not been educated to make such judgements.

The writer Ernest Hemingway famously said, "The most essential gift for a good writer is a built-in, shockproof, shit detector."  That inspired Neil Postman to claim:

As I see it, the best things schools can do for kids is to help them learn how to distinguish useful talk from bullshit.

Most schools do not do anything that remotely resembles this. Consequently, they send young people out into the world inherently vulnerable to bullshit.  And that seems rather shameful.

Of course, it is not just schools who have failed to prepare their charges.  Many universities force their students to complete 'learning styles' assessments, despite the fact that it is well-known that most experts on learning and the brain deny that such styles exist at all.  Even worse, an informal review of sports coaching education programmes in the UK by my colleagues and me revealed that all of them taught questionable or erroneous theories as scientific fact.

Remember Power Balance?  The bracelets that used "hologram technology" to "resonate with and respond to the natural energy field of the body", resulting in the improvement of sporting performance.  Sounds implausible?  Not so much that it prevented tens of thousands of sports coaches, athletes, and normal people from from around the world buying one, just in case they actually worked.

People bought the devices even after scientists demonstrated that they had no effect at all.  Television news items even demonstrated, with the most basic of tests, that the bracelets were useless.  But people continued to buy them, right up until the company that produced them went out of business, mainly due to a court ruling that the company should stop making unsubstantiated claims and that dissatisfied customers should be given a full refund.

Anyway, the company has relaunched under a new name, and people have started buying the bracelets again.

What is to be done?

Surely, the ultimate solution must be to change education programmes to better prepare people to do with the barrage of bullshit with which they will inevitably be confronted during their lives. This is as much to do with a sceptical mindset as specific techniques.

For a start, though, consider this list of questions from the writer Michael Shermer, which make up his "Baloney Detection Kit".

THE TEN QUESTIONS

1. How reliable is the source of the claim?
2. Does the source make similar claims?
3. Have the claims been verified by somebody else?
4. Does this fit with the way the world works?
5. Has anyone tried to disprove the claim?
6. Where does the preponderance of evidence point?
7. Is the claimant playing by the rules of science?
8. Is the claimant providing positive evidence?
9. Does the new theory account for as many phenomena as the old theory?
10. Are personal beliefs driving the claim?

Crap detection can be framed even easier than this, as one simple but profound question:

How do you know?

If every student was taught to ask this whenever confronted by a new idea - no matter who offered it - they would be making a giant step towards being genuinely educated.

6 Must-Read Books on Coaching and Learning

Coaching and teaching are essentially thinking activities. Excellent coaching and teaching demand imagination, reflection and analysis. For this reason, books are, and will remain, the one necessary resource.  Fashions come and go in education, but we have found nothing to replace the quiet, simple act of reading, and the intellectual revolutions that it promises.

This blog recommends six really useful books on coaching and learning (subsequent blogs will look at motivation, and other areas of interest to coaches and teachers).  I'd love to hear your thoughts about them, and any suggestions of your own, via the wonderful world that is Twitter - @DrDickB.

“The more that you read,the more things you will know.The more that you learn, the more places you'll go.”(Dr. Seuss, I Can Read With My Eyes Shut!)

Stafford, I. (Ed.). (2011) Coaching children in sport. London: Routledge.

The most authoritative book on the subject.  Covers a wide range of subjects in and accessible way.

Bransford, J.D. Brown, A. L., & Cocking, R. R. (2000). How People Learn.  Washington, DC: National Academy Press

Quite technical in parts, a bit old, and long, but this is the best single-volume guide that explains the science of learning.

Myerson, J. (2005) Not a Games Person.  London: Yellow Jersey Press.

A memoir of someone who didn’t ‘get’ sport!  Very funny, but also revealing for those of us take the joy of sport for granted.

  

Medina, J. (2010)  Brain Rules: 12 principles for surviving and thriving at work, home, and school.  Seattle, WA: Pear Press.

A well-written and engaging book on the brain and learning (and some other things).  Much less awful than most books on the brain!

Pink, D. H. (2010)  Drive: The surprising truth about what motivates us.  Edinburgh: Canongate Books.

An excellent book on motivation, with ideas that can be immediately applied to coaching and teaching.

Physical Education for Learning: a guide for secondary schools.  London: Continuum.
A wide-ranging and comprehensive book, focusing on the support of learning in physical education and sport.

'Hoover is only one brand of vacuum cleaners' - some alternatives to Powerpoint

Some products have become so ubiquitous that their name has morphed into a generic noun.  I still find myself referring to 'Hoovers' years after their dominance in the world of vacuum clears has subsided (all hail the Dyson!).  And I still talk quite freely about 'Durex' as a catch-all term for contraceptives, despite learning to my cost (and embarrassment and potential injury) that the word means sticky tape in Australia).

Some trademarks and brands have become completely absorbed into everyday language.  You might be surprised to learn (as I was) that 'Aspirin' is not the name of a drug, but actually a proprietorial brand.  And the same is true of Astroturf, Bubble Wrap, Hula Hoop, Frisbee, Ping Pong, and Jacuzzi.

Microsoft's Powerpoint is another case in point.  In most Universities and schools, 'powerpoint' simply means presentation.  And it is the most commonly used software, to the extent that departing from the norm can prove inconvenient or even impossible in many institutions.  In fact, so all-pervasive is Powerpoint that not using presentation software at all - whether or not it is appropriate - is seen as the behaviour of a Luddite!

But there are good reasons to consider alternatives.  The first is a political one: I suggest to you that conformity and obedience should be resisted as a matter of principle. It is our duty as free men and women (apologies to readers in North Korea).  Breaking free of the heavy hand of Microsoft in schools and universities can be a daily dose of "anarchist callisthenics", that exercise the freethinking muscles!

A more fundamental reason to resist is that Powerpoint, like any software is a tool, and all tools have their inherent limitations.  Use only kind of software and weaknesses quickly become acceptable, then normal, then inevitable.  Introduce another type of software and choice suddenly becomes an option.

Powerpoint contains a remarkably comprehensive range of functions, but it is not as intuitive or pretty as Apple's Keynote (although you would also need to swap your PC for a Mac ... which is another great reason).  It is also not non-linear nor as flexible as the online program Prezi.  Nor is it free like Google's Drive presentation, PowToon, and 280 Slides.

If the intention is to do the same sort of thing as Powerpoint, but with a different look or feel, it is worth considering Sliderocket.  If multimedia is your thing, then the new SlideSnack is excellent.

I'm not going to offer a proper review here.  Nor will I dissect the virtues and vices of the different systems.  My aim is to make a simple point: there is more to presentation software than Powerpoint, and it is well worth taking a little time to check out some of the alternatives.

In the era of web-based and cloud-based programs, the horny old 'PC versus Mac' question becomes somewhat redundant (the answer's Mac, by the way!).  And many programs are offered free of charged, or at greatly reduced prices, so money is less of an obstacle that it once was.

So don't do it for me.  Do it for your colleagues and friends who have had to suffer through countless hours of tediously similar slides and effects!  Do it for those poor souls for whom the sight of a clever transition or animation no longer brings shrills of anticipation; just the deadening certainly that another bloody slide is coming along.  Do it for those who still think that being told 'but we always do it this way' is reason enough to do something else!

Practically Perfect Presentations

The new school and university terms are approaching, so it is a good opportunity to reflect a while on the elements of excellent presentations.

With this in mind, I asked a few people with greater knowledge of the subject than me to share their words of wisdom.  These are people whose work on this subject I respect and / or who I have seen live and thought "I wish I could do that!"

I would like to take this opportunity to thank them for contributing their thoughts.  I hope you find their ideas as valuable as I do.

Professor Margaret Talbot, President of the International Council of Sport Science and Physical Education (ICSSPE), the worldwide umbrella body for sport, suggests:

"Always respect your audience, and make sure you are well prepared for both the topic and the audience.  So many people think they can 'wing it', and it is always obvious when they do!"

Andy Reed OBE, former Member of Parliament, now the Director of SajeImpact Ltd, works with a number of sports and charitable organisations, and is the chair of the Sport and Recreation Alliance.  Andy wrote:

"Know who your audience are and what their knowledge and expectations will be.

"For me it's about sharing a passion for a topic and therefore being enthusiastic and authentic.  It's about being aware of strengths and weaknesses and being prepared for different situations. I am poor at formal presentations without detailed notes, but prefer minimal notes/ PowerPoint when its more informal and a subject area I know well.

"Be prepared to alter direction.

"I always personally prefer Q&A as a large proportion of the talk - getting to understand what people want to know - it's about dialogue. Not just imparting everything you know!

"So know your audience, be yourself and authentic, prepare to the right level for the event, be authentic and engage."

Hiran Ilangantileke is an accomplished Musician and Public Speaker. He has trained, facilitated and presented to a wide range of audiences from Media companies to High Risk Organisations. As a professional commercial Musician he has engaged crowds of many thousands.

"My top tip for being a great presenter?…..Prepare for Presenting as you would for any major performance of skill.

"Consider the effort spent by an Athlete or Musician preparing for their, often, very public performance. An Athlete will know their event, a Musician their song and accordingly, a Presenter needs to know their material. This is Fundamental preparation, but is it enough to be a great communicator?

"To make presentations sparkle I often adapt a simple mental rehearsal technique from the world of sports. The best time to do this exercise is the night before your presentation, after you have revised your material.

• The most important step is to set a good psychological and physical state. For most people this means to relax, but choose the state you want to carry into the presentation and transmit to the audience. Ask yourself, what state or personal qualities will elicit the response that you want from the audience? e.g. if you want your crowd to be motivated/inspired/relaxed etc. what state should you be in?  Your breathing rate is the foundation to your psychological and physical state, change your breathing – change your state.

• Once you have set your desired state, close your eyes and mentally rehearse the presentation (performance) whilst all the time maintaining your state, as indicated by your breathing rate. Start the mental movie well before you’re in front of the audience. Rehearse everything from approaching the stage to leaving it. At all times whilst you are visualising, notice how your state supports your voice quality, recall of information, flexibility and overall, elicits the responses you want from the audience. It's okay if you don’t know what the room or audience looks like yet, just use your imagination. That said, it can be very powerful to run this technique whilst in the actual room you’ll be in the next day.

"Enjoy your great performance!"

Dr David Morley, from Leeds Metropolitan University, is an outstanding workshop leader. He stressed the importance of building rapport with the audience from the very beginning of a presentation:

"Engage everyone with eye to eye contact in the first minute of the presentation."

Finally, Daniel Coyle is the author of the excellent The Talent Code, and one of the masters of communicating the art and science of outstanding performance.  Daniel offered advice for putting mistakes into proper perspective:

"Always remember that mistakes aren't verdicts - they're information to help you make the next reach."