Edged Weapons vs. Strangle Holds: Combat, Sport, and Art The Ethical and Moral Considerations of Martial Arts

I remember watching UFC 1, where a small, seemingly unathletic Brazilian used Jiu-Jitsu to systematically defeat a lineup of street fighters, martial artists, and professional competitors. Many of us immediately sought to add grappling systems to our training. Others abandoned the arts that had served them well, believing them to be ineffective.

It didn’t take long, however, for strikers to adapt—learning to “sprawl and brawl” and developing defenses against the relatively straightforward grappling of early BJJ in mixed martial arts. Fast forward more than thirty years, and the evolution of the sport has made the old striking-versus-grappling debate largely irrelevant. Bruce Lee’s vision of a complete fighter—capable in all ranges—has found its realization in modern MMA.

Yet, with the growth of MMA and BJJ as sports, something has been lost. The spectacle, the show, and the business of fighting have taken something away from the arts themselves.

Traditional martial artists—and striking-based fighters in particular—owe a great debt to Royce Gracie. He exposed a gap in many fighters’ skill sets and demonstrated the importance of grappling. More importantly, he fought with restraint and discipline, applying only the force necessary to win. He embodied the ethical foundation of martial arts.

Today, much of that ethical grounding seems diminished. In its place, we often see derision and mockery of traditional arts and their practitioners. In my view, this criticism is undeserved. Many traditional systems were functional and proven methods of self-defense for decades—if not centuries—before the rise of modern MMA and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu marketing. The problem is not effectiveness alone; it is the erosion of respect, ethics, and moral application. Even basic sportsmanship has, at times, been cast aside.

As someone who has trained in BJJ, Judo, kickboxing, and other combat sports—alongside decades of experience in traditional Chinese, Japanese, Okinawan, and especially Southeast Asian martial arts—I believe I can speak on this with some perspective. In the interest of honesty, I’ll also admit to a misguided past that included “dojo storming” in my younger years. I regret that behavior.

Today, my training includes Filipino martial arts such as Eskrima and Kali, as well as Western blade work. My goal has been to remain well-rounded—not just in skill, but in understanding.

The Question of Moral High Ground

A troubling trend across the martial arts community is the growing intolerance for anything outside one’s own system or “camp.” What begins as tribalism can easily become something closer to cultism. This mindset ranges from simple ignorance to deliberate provocation, and at times even hostility. Importantly, this issue is not confined to any one group—it exists across the spectrum.

Too often, practitioners become confined within their own perspective. For example, I have seen BJJ practitioners criticize Filipino martial arts and edged-weapons training as dangerous or indicative of instability—while simultaneously practicing chokeholds and strangles on a regular basis. Likewise I have seen self defense practitioners so blindly ignorant of the realities of athletic aggression that they are woefully unprepared to deal with anyone who has a wrestling or even a boxing background, the arrogance of ignorance is a moral flaw as well.

If applied in a real self-defense situation, a stranglehold can quickly escalate to serious legal consequences, including manslaughter. We often assume an opponent will “tap,” but that assumption does not exist outside the gym. The reality is that use of force is situational. It requires judgment, restraint, and awareness—not just technical proficiency.

Training to render someone unconscious through strangulation is no more morally elevated than training with blades or sticks. Neither carries inherent moral superiority. Likewise, a self-defense practitioner who has never experienced real pressure—never been struck, never managed an adrenaline response—is also at a disadvantage. Such training gaps can lead to poor decision-making and inappropriate use of force under stress leading to serious legal consequences.

I believe part of the issue is one of ignorance. There is a difference between fighting and self defense. On a basic level the former is consensual while the later is not. Within a consensual combat there may or may not be a rule set or a referee. We are going to square off and fight, one of us will win and one will lose. The goal of both participants is victory. That is NOT self defense. The goal of self defense is escaping harm, survival not victory. The focus is on awareness first and foremost to avoid harm if possible, deescalation and escape if avoidance proves impossible, but survival by any and all means when necessary. These two worlds are not at odds with each other, when both are done rightly they well complement each other.

Then there is art. Martial Arts became arts for a reason. The old masters recognized that balance was necessary to develop character, ethics, and morals in the individual. After all once you can fight and defend yourself you have a super power that can be used for good or evil. This is the way to the moral high ground.

Ed Parker said it was easier to cut short another mans line than lengthen you own. Truly it is easier to tear down than build up. There is a better way, 1 Thessalonians 5:11 commands believers to “encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing” (NIV)

Ultimately, the issue is not which way is superior. It is whether practitioners are training with awareness, responsibility, and respect—for both the power and the consequences of what they practice.

Steve Ledwith

Red Clay Combatives

4/25/2026