On the Use of Spies

What exactly makes a Ninja, a Ninja?

The reason I ask is I'm currently writing a book - novelizing a multiple award-winning screenplay of mine with another script I wrote that New Line Cinema was interested in some years ago.

I'll be making the fictional case for the existence of modern-day Ninja with 800-years of unbroken activity - big action, a love affair, broken trust testing the bonds of brotherly warriorship. All that good stuff. 

Naturally, when you start laying foundations for these kinds of things it brings up questions - how would these folks think, sound, and act? 

Questions relating to their existence fostered questions relating to my own. Personally, I've always been satisfied with the answers I've received over the years from teachers and my own sense of discovery. In fact, I've never questioned it.

I've also never promoted myself as a "Ninja" or made claims about teaching "Ninjutsu" to any great extent. The Bujinkan arts include, among others, the Togakure ryu -  the best known of the remaining Ninjutsu lineages - as an aspect of its history. However, I am most comfortable saying when asked that I'm a Budoka, a martial artist. Ninjas notwithstanding.

I don't claim to fully understand the differences between Taijutsu and Ninjutsu, or more specifically, Ninpo Taijutsu. But if I had to state a broad analogy to draw the distinction I'd probably look to the story of the Marine in my last post. His actions to position, leverage, and initiate options in his area of operation are indicative of the raw fundamentals of "Taijutsu." But when he comes face-to-face with his enemy, a veil is pulled over those options that confuses an otherwise relentless adversary into voluntarily accepting a bomb with his own hands. Thus, "Taijutsu" becomes, in essence, "Ninpo Taijutsu."

Taijutsu is like the "natural law" tradition of martial arts - the repository of universal principles of the martial ways, be they strategic, tactical, or technical. And as these aspects are universal and natural to human use they are guided and shaped by human nature's ethical, moral, and motivational instincts.

These are the anthropologic inclinations that would have provided the energy to originally discover these martial conceptions as well as provide a framework to train them tactically so they could effectively and efficiently defend and protect the value of human life. If they could not accomplish even this viability, then what good would they have been?

[An aside. Those who take issue with the above statement must answer to this contradiction: If the guiding value of martial arts were only the "killing of the enemy," then how does one explain the fact these arts contain, were refined, and were meant to be understood and trained protectively? In other words, the arts themselves retain the tactical calculations in order to live, even though killing the enemy may be necessary.

Were the guiding value to cultivate only a "killing art" they would have been refined far differently, for it is always easier to kill the enemy - and train to kill them - when one's own life and the lives of others is forfeit and sacrificial to that goal. Suicide bombing is first and foremost a "killing art" - if "art" at all - for its guiding values and principles place "killing the enemy" above even the life of the bomber. Thus, the martial arts must cohere with human nature's life-preserving instincts - even a "killing art of survival" is qualified by the value-of-life notion, "survival."]

Taijutsu is also a generalization, not a specialization, thus the absence of distinct form becomes a hallmark of its infinite functionality and a key to understanding its power and use. Most martial arts today - the "shinbudo" - are modern representations of Japanese, Korean, or Chinese traditions. They are specialized ways of perceiving the world as they peer through their own particular physical prism of strategic and tactical awareness. They are also inevitably influenced by cultural sensitivities and identity. I would argue, these facets can actually restrict applicable options when regarding the challenging nature of change itself. 

When Soke speaks of being a "UFO," regardless of what exactly he means, he draws distinction to the unidentifiable nature of universal movement and the transcendence of eternal message, one that introduces Taijutsu as unbound to any single culture or creed, except that of humankind. Thus, Taijutsu in its generalness does not look like anything specific because it only moves in the moment as it is supposed to in order to remain viable. In essence, Taijutsu is not set by its technique. It cannot be. If it were, it would mean it is not what it is. 

This leads me to suspect a natural connection - trajectory even - between Taijutsu and Ninpo Taijutsu - maturity. Taijutsu inevitably becomes Ninpo Taijutsu when its universalized, general habits become so intrinsic that one can hardly establish they are being used, let alone, even there.

And here's a photo of Paris reading Sun Tzu.
You're welcome.

This story from the introduction of Thomas Cleary's The Art of War, captures this rather telling aspect. Interesting to note, Cleary claims that a Ming dynasty critic wrote of this little tale of the physician, "What is essential for leaders, generals, and ministers in running countries and governing armies is no more than this."

According to an old story, a lord of ancient China once asked his physician, a member of a family of healers, which of them was the most skilled in the art.

The physician, whose reputation was such that his name became synonymous with medical science in China, replied, "My eldest brother sees the spirit of sickness and removes it before it takes shape, so his name does not get out of the house.

My elder brother cures sickness when it is still extremely minute, so his name does not get out of the neighborhood.

As for me, I puncture veins, prescribe potions, and massage skin, so from time to time my name gets out and is heard among the lords."

This story highlights the nature of the study of universal principles. The eldest brother's ability has become so intrinsic, it allows him to act at a stage that gives sickness no chance to generate. In doing so, his "quiet" approach would seem as if he had done little or nothing at all, thus "his name does not get out of the house." Conversely, the youngest and seemingly "inexperienced" is also the "loudest" and most well-known.

I can't help but think this story is illustrative of the plight that Budo and Ninjutsu researchers are faced with. I understand the curiosity in digging into history, and appreciate it, but it seems to me they often beg the question of the concept of "Ninja" itself - they're taking for granted they can define something that in reality was probably never meant to be defined. How does one identify something that by its very nature seeks to change as it needs to change to remain undetected?

One of the reasons so little historical evidence remains of their existence may not just be the fact much of it was destroyed, but also perhaps because it was never meant to be recorded in the first place. And if it was, maybe it was recorded in a way that we have yet to detect. After all, if you are trying to shroud existence, why would you generate evidence of that existence that would certainly be used against you? So, when some archetype is labeled "Ninja," is it just me, or did it just fail the Ninja test?

It is this indiscernible nature that provides fitting example of the sincere reverence that is held for the core values of martial training. What better way to protect the viability that gives rise to the warrior ethos (and everything else), than to be able to be "invisible" in the prudential use of that protection? 

This spirit extends far beyond its application by Ninja and can be found in traditions around the world from the Biblical stories of Moses sending forth the "Twelve spies" into the land of Canaan, to the ghostly Native American Scout - eyes and ears of the tribe - to the technical ingenuity of today's clandestine operatives at war with fanatical religious and secular ideologies.  

The control of this veil of ambiguity is an embodiment of the hard/soft, bright/dark, heavy/light ever-morphing duality in the nature of change itself. This physical philosophy is at once overt and covert, indicative of the kyojitsu, the interchange of genuine and possible, the paradox that reveals the truth at the heart of the very precepts of perseverance and endurance we have come to know as "忍." 

Truth and Disillusionment

Upon my return from Japan I reconnected with an old and dear Buyu. A brawler and natural athlete, he was a semi-professional climber, who had literally won awards for his ability. He owned and operated his own school of martial arts - an amalgam of styles - about an hour from Chicago. Intrigued by my years in Japan, he wanted to train together again, but with one caveat: I'd have to, "prove it worked." I laughed. I had no intention of proving anything, I just wanted to train. So, we trained. And it was just like old times.

About six months later he wanted me to take over his school. Just like that. He was convinced by the training and felt he was at cross purposes - he couldn't keep teaching his people his way and then train with me - it was too confusing. Reluctantly, I accepted.

Over time, my friend improved. He started relying less on power and speed and seemed content. But over the next year, I saw less of him. He went back to teaching his way - he owned the place, after all - and then told me he was going to, "take a break." Pretty soon, he stopped training altogether. 

He would eventually close his school, move out West, and settle down. We talk from time to time and wish each other well, smiling about the old days. But of all the guys I knew, I never thought it would be him who ended his training. Why do these fellow “lifers” quit? These folks who've been training for years, invested enormous energy and finances - how can they just walk away?

Martial Arts are rather new to the West – introduced in only the last 100 years or so. They’ve mostly been treated as a cultural affectation and with that came confusion – pop culture got a stranglehold and squeezed until they turned blue. This benefited in their proliferation, but it came with a price – an inauthentic and completely unrealistic set of viewpoints that grew around the training like thorny weeds in a vegetable garden. Getting to the fruit is to risk getting stuck or worse, becoming so lost as to misinterpret the weeds as the fruit and the fruit as the weeds. 

Martial training - regardless of how any of us believe it's defined – is a process, an "agent of change." It has to be. Otherwise, why would people bother with it? If it was not a process that provided, for example, confidence, tactical awareness, physical defensive skills, or the power to shoot lightning bolts and fly (see what I did there?), then folks simply wouldn't volunteer themselves to its ways. People engage in it because they are convinced it will cause them to change in ways they are eager to change into.

Yeah, but Peggy was always a bitch.
Suck it, Peggy.

I realize there is great debate about what that change entails and even greater debate about how exactly to achieve it, but we can't deny the change itself. Just like education or religious faith, when we participate voluntarily, martial training can be a process of habituation that grants us opportunity to transform our perception and understanding of the world around us. However, if someone believes this process is stalled, stopped, or worse, does not exist, there's a good chance they may become "disillusioned." 

Interesting word, look it up. I have yet to find an actual definition, only like-minded words: Disaffected. Disappointed. Dissatisfied. But what does it actually mean to be "disillusioned" with martial arts? 

When someone is, say, disillusioned with politics, chances are they believe a politician will make changes they value and/or prevent changes they value. When the politician doesn't, and instead reneges on their values and violates them, or makes deals for self-profit, we are left feeling deceived and betrayed. We lose trust in them and that’s one step from losing trust in the system itself, the idea of civil governance by republic. With religion, if someone of faith begins to doubt, and over time comes to believe there is not an active God in our lives, there’s a good chance they could come to believe there’s no God at all.

Here’s what they all share in common: The uncertainty in the discernment of metaphysical truth is a precursor to acceptance of the relativity of truth and the idea that truth itself does not actually exist. In other words, if there’s no way to be certain about our ability to discern what is true, that must be because truth is relative - what is “true” for one person, may not be “true” for another. If this is, in fact, the case, then maybe there’s no such thing as truth at all and it’s simply about what we wish to believe. 

This gets applied to training: Once one starts believing that “truth is relative,” everything becomes suspect - style, authorities and teachers, and eventually even yourself. Even you can’t trust you. We can wind up losing confidence in our own ability to discern the necessary and worthwhile aspects of training.

Slipping into disillusionment is not about being unable to find what one is looking for. It's that one doesn't know what they're looking for - they're clueless as to what they "ought" to find in the first place. It's like being lost in the woods using a compass with no needle: If we have no sense of direction, how can we possibly know which way we should go - every direction looks the same. Without a standard, like magnetic North, how could we know truth? 

And now I'm disillusioned. Somehow, things will never
be quite the same again.  

Bear in mind, confusion is a normal part of the martial process – not everything makes sense right away. And that’s okay, provided one has faith that confusion will eventually give way to clarity as one matures in their training. But even this becomes doubtful if one doesn't believe it. Without trust in our teachers, our training, our history, and ourselves there’s no room for anything else.

I can understand why some folks might have trouble here. Admittedly, discernment of truth begs the question of truth itself – it takes for granted truth exists and can be discerned. "But," they will say, "Just because we discern, does that mean we can identify truth? If the saying, “truth is stranger than fiction,” is actually true, then truth can be as unreal as bad fiction and be just as unreliable to discern." Sure, but that depends how one discerns.

There are three parts to any argument: Claim, reason, and warrant. For martial arts, the "claim" is what we train. The "reason" is why we train it that way - the evidence to support our claim. But it's the "warrant" that keeps that reason relevant to the claim - makes it matter. The problem for both arguments and martial arts is when one's reasons (evidence) bear no relevance to one's claim. YouTube frauds and "Ninjers" commit this sin at an appalling rate - what they're doing ultimately bears no relevance to the claim they are masters of certain teachings, let alone can protect themselves or others. Thus, when "evidence" (sometimes mistaken for "the technique") alone is the paramount value for one's training, it can lead to all kinds of confusion. 

Nagato sensei once told me that Budo was "illogical," but that we needed to train it in a logical way. I agree. But answering the illogical with logic is not enough. We have to know that that logic is also "reasonable." In other words, "what" we are doing is not as important as "how" we do what we're doing.

US Marines are going house-to-house in Iraq looking for insurgents. They're tossing flash-bang grenades into suspect houses before they storm in. On this particular occasion, one Marine approaches a front door, grenade in hand, and reaches for the handle. Before he opens the door, it swings open and standing there, AK in hand, is an insurgent, with a bunch more milling in the room. The Marine looks at the insurgent, the insurgent at the Marine, and matter-of-factly, the Marine offers the grenade to him. He takes it. The Marine then closes the door. I don't really have to write BOOM here, do I?

So far as I know this is a true story - I trust the source on it. But is that enough to include it as tactical training at Camp Quantico? It happened and it worked, so, does that mean it's a viable technique? People confused about the relativity of truth and instead relying on evidence-based occurrence are going to have trouble here. 

I can just picture Marines drilling this "technique" and yelling because I always picture Marines yelling: WHEN YOU APPROACH THE DOOR HAVE YOUR GRENADE IN HAND! WHEN THE INSURGENT OPENS THE DOOR YOU WILL HAND HIM THE GRENADE! Silly, but the moral in this example lies not in exactly "what" the Marine did, but "how" the Marine did what he did. Any other Marine in that scenario might have gotten themselves shot or killed, or started a firefight that endangered others. The lesson is: Don't lose your head under stress. That's the truth. If it's a technique you're looking for, there it is. Not only is it logical, it's reasonable. Everything else is gravy.

This is martial "art" after all, not martial "science." We can all debate (and some do - endlessly) on just what is and is not "art" in martial art. But it will always come down to this: One person's ability is not another's for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is what they personally can and cannot perceive based on their own capacity and understanding.  

So, here's my advice: To stave off or escape disillusionment one must keep their training viable, "capable of life." This is about going back to the roots - calibrating ourselves to the “warrant” that makes training matter to begin with. In essence, rediscovering what must be, has to be, the truth about martial arts for martial arts to exist at all.