The Moment I Let Go of Hard‑Style Assumptions

While working on the Patreon articles supplementing Application 3 in Breaking Through: The Secrets of Bassai Dai Kata, the first article A JDK Perspective on Kata, Human Variability, and the Insight of the Pioneers drew parallels between our insight into kata analysis, the human condition in combative exchanges, and the life circumstances of martial art pioneers.

The article attributed our increasing insight to years of watching how students assimilated our training and how their decision‑making preferences emerged during exchanges. With that discussion in mind, I went searching for photos that might represent that period of time, photos that would capture the moment when everything changed.

The photos I stopped at were of JDK Black Belt Joshua Lay, then a 4th kyu student during his grading in 2014.

JDK BB Niaal Holder refs one of the many sparring encounters Josh had to endure that day.

They were taken at a turning point for Josh, and they mirrored an event horizon within JDK that eventually led to the JDK Method. But more importantly, they marked a turning point for me as an instructor.

Up until then, Josh struggled with the syllabus. Everything we presented seemed not to match his learning style. He attempted techniques and applications, only to completely forget them the lesson after. Yet a switch occurred for him at 4th kyu, when we introduced a type of randori we call Superlight, a slow, collaborative, and most importantly, free‑flowing exchange in an ultra-safe environment.

We had a total of seven practitioners come to play.

Something clicked. When he realised we weren’t trying to force him to remember specific moves, but to understand concepts, things happened all at once: the read of distance, the control of the opponent, and the essence of a tactic just came together. From there, it became easier for him to feel what was happening and then make sense of the process flow we needed to see.

Up until this point, JDK had gravitated to using patterns as a syllabus for about ten years. We had not yet embarked on my book project, which would become a five-year adventure. But the adoption of Superlight closed the loop for us. Deconstructing kata, varying the technique, and applying tactics in two-person drills were our fledgling efforts in celebrating traditional form. Superlight was what allowed us to test our assumptions in a dynamic situation. The feedback it provided allowed us to gauge the worth of our ideas. Distancing. Angles. How to stitch tactical elements together. Everything.

JDK BB Niaal Holder’s BB Grading in 2011 where he had to push through ‘The Gauntlet of Pain’

Two years before these photos, in what I thought was a stroke of genius, I set up a challenge for my then senior student Niaal Holder’s black belt grading. At one point during the grading, I had all our students stand in a corridor holding body shields and kick pads, and made him fight his way through the gauntlet while they actively tried to stop him.

Without thinking too hard about it, I felt it was only right to introduce a challenge for Josh that would match or exceed Niaal’s grading, you know, just to be fair. An email was sent to a few friends who headed up different martial arts schools, asking them to send a few volunteers to help.

Fortunately, my friends trusted me and had enough faith in what I wanted to achieve. On the day, I was absolutely delighted to have seven strapping black belts from Okinawan Karate, Chinese Martial Arts, Muay Thai, and Taekwondo backgrounds come to spar Josh.

Josh was still required to tick off his grading components, so we split the sparring into three parts, allowing everyone to see how he was faring while being brought to the edge of physical exhaustion. We also factored in time so our guests could spar each other too, ensuring they’d leave with good memories from the session.

Joshua Lay in his 4th Kyu Grading demonstrates either Yulgok or Hwarang. Look at the exhaustion on his face.

With my instructor’s hat on now, I’ll just come out and say it: there’s a time and a place to push yourself. Something like this doesn’t necessarily need to be in a grading. I conceived the initial “Gauntlet of Pain” because Niaal had been plagued by self-doubt, and believed a black belt test had to be a brutal trial by fire. To have such a test for a 4th kyu purple belt was not necessary.

The entertainment was, without a doubt, next level. They each knew what we were trying to do, were aware that safety was a priority, and they all allowed themselves to play. By ‘play’ I mean they engaged in a competitive yet collaborative manner, and that allowed everyone to show off the best of their training. I was blessed to have spectated that day.

And looking back now, these photos do more than capture a grading. They capture the moment when I was happy to let go of some of JDK’s early hard style assumptions. The moment I realised that pushing students to the max: testing their endurance, their pain tolerance, their ability to “survive” wasn’t the acid test of how good martial arts were really taught.

Josh Lay 4th kyu grading 2014 as he demonstrates applications from his patterns.

The pioneers didn’t build their systems around impossible hardship. They built them around sensitivity. Around strategy. Around safety. Around understanding how humans behave under pressure.

These photos show the moment I let go of my own hubris and finally understood that.

And those themes of human variability, the emergence of natural movement, and the advocacy of sensitivity and strategy are explored across the three articles from my Patreon’s coverage of Application Three.

Breaking Through Application Two, Full Article Series:

Breaking Through Application Three, Full Article Series:

📸 Sandy Lim

Bio: Colin Wee is a Singaporean author, martial‑arts instructor, and cultural historian whose four‑decade practice spans Asia, Australia, and the United States. Known for his analytical approach and deep tactical insight, Colin blends historical research with lived experience to illuminate the human stories behind martial traditions. He is the founder of Joong Do Kwan in Perth, Western Australia, and serves as Secretary of the Australasian Martial Arts Hall of Fame (see About the Author).

You can get a copy of Breaking Through: The Secrets of Bassai Dai Kata from Amazon or directly from the author at Ingram Sparks.

© 2023 Colin Wee. Images reproduced from Breaking Through: The Secrets of Bassai Dai Kata. All rights reserved. No part of these images may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

Bridging the Gap: Exploring the Connection Between Taekwondo and Karate

Colin Wee Knife Defence with Kidokwan Perth and Damien Merrin 2017
GM Kelly Cox and Master Colin Wee, Rendokan Dojo, Richardson, TX, 2023
GM Kelly Cox and Master Colin Wee at Rendokan Dojo, Richardson, TX, 2023. GM Cox teaches a number of systems, one being a traditional system named Marudo Karate-do, and both he and Colin find great similarities in their approach to training.

For a long time, the relationship between Karate and Taekwondo has been framed as a rivalry. But when you peel back organisational identity, stylistic branding, and historical development, a different picture emerges. The real connection between these arts isn’t found in how they look today, but in how they function when practitioners are under duress and when stylistic expressions are not a value add to a combative exchange.

This article isn’t about proving that Karate and Taekwondo are the same. It’s about understanding why they diverged from a shared lineage, what they still share, and where their tactical advantage lies.

Early Korean Karate/Taekwondo: Hard‑Style, But Not Yet Standardised

Recent archival comparisons done by Ørjan Nilsen, show that early Korean Karate, the precursors of modern Taekwondo did not entirely resemble modern Shotokan (see Early Taekwondo was just Shotokan (it was and it wasn’t)). Early Korean practitioners did train in hard, direct techniques, and linear entries. They just lacked the polished standardisation that JKA would later impose on Japanese Karate, or that ITF would later impose on Taekwondo. While some stylistic comparisons from this era could even be made with Okinawa’s Shorin‑ryu lineage such comparisons could only occur because practitioners were still figuring out what “hard‑style” meant. Both groups had still some way to go towards the “pre‑refinement” stage of their hard‑style evolution.

What Hard‑Style Martial Arts Actually Is (And Isn’t)

Master Colin Wee with his teacher Shodai Bryan Robbins, Dallas, TX, 2006.
Colin Wee with his teacher Shodai Bryan Robbins, Dallas, TX, 2006. Mr Robbins taught Colin Traditional Taekwondo and Aikido. Here Mr Robbins “catches up” Colin on both hard style and internal concepts he’s missed over intervening years.

Most modern definitions of “hard‑style” come from a Shotokan‑centric lens: linear acceleration, percussive techniques, rigid stances, and Shotokan’s muscle lock-down. But this is an aesthetic definition, not a functional one.

A more accurate definition is that Hard‑style is blitz‑fighting tactics. This means rapid entries, chunked sequences, and the reuse of high‑yield solutions that overwhelm an opponent. Yes, linear acceleration matters. But the real power of hard‑style lies in pre‑emptive striking and overwhelming pressure.

This is why beginners rehearse single techniques in line drills, and why upper belts should be “chunking” functional combinations until they become fluent. Hard‑style is not about looking rigid. It’s about revving a tactical engine that compensates for low fight IQ.

Why Karate and Taekwondo Diverged

Both JKA and ITF faced the same organisational challenge, they both needed to scale a martial art to thousands of students.

Like all member-based organisations, the answer relied on standardisation.

  • JKA created a precise, repeatable system that depended on a muscle lock down called ‘kime’ for power transmission, taught concurrently with an ethical code, and supplemented by a text written by the Father of Modern Karate titled “Rentan Goshin Karate Jutsu.”
  • ITF created a codified, rhythmic, prescriptive system packaged with Taekwondo’s Tenets. This was differentiated by a sine wave concept of power generation, and a reliance on the Founder’s Encyclopedia of Taekwon-Do.

The words used sound different, but also so similar. Even across the divide, these were the moves necessary for growth. But there’s a cost to this standardisation.

Internal Mechanics: The Part Everyone Forgot

Colin Wee attends AKATO Annual in 2016, representing the Korean MA lineage through his uniform, while standing behind his teacher Sensei Mike Proctor.
Colin Wee attends AKATO Annual in 2016, representing the Korean MA lineage through choice of uniform, while standing behind his teacher Sensei Mike Proctor, and enjoying the camaraderie of cross-training.

Recently, through research into my second book, I had the good fortune to explore Chinese internal arts and its influence on Ryukyuan fighting systems. Yes, indeed, research into an Okinawan ‘hard-style’ kata led me to fajin and how it utilised concepts like leverage and directional vectors. From that insight, I was able to gain a unique perspective of Taekwondo’s Sine Wave, though not the stylised version performed in tuls.

Master Colin Wee showing tactics that are not quite hard style, AKATO Annual and 50th Anniversary Celebrations 2026, Dallas, Texas.

Similar to the engine behind White Crane, Southern Chinese boxing, and early Okinawan Tode, the Sine Wave’s use of compression, expansion, and the release of energy along specific angles had more in common than most could see.

During a recent seminar with an ITF group, I used these internal Chinese principles and sent a black belt flying. Not because I was doing “Karate” or “Taekwondo,” but because I was using functional mechanics which underly both arts. In all honesty, I could have compared the movement to Taekwondo’s Sine Wave as much as I could to Karate’s Kime.

This ITF group shows that good training doesn't make them less good at Taekwondo. ApproachTKD Seminar in Aberdeen 2026.
This ITF group shows that good training doesn’t make them less good at Taekwondo. ApproachTKD Seminar in Aberdeen 2026.

The irony is that ITF practitioners perform sine wave every day, but its prescriptive choreography might not lead to this deeper potential. As my martial art colleague Dr Sanko Lewis has previously pointed out, sine wave has real value. Some of it comes to the fore in stand‑up grappling but only if practitioners are allowed to train in that manner (see The Sine Wave Motion as a Mnemonic Device for Joint-Locks and Throws).

Free Sparring as the Acid Test

When Karateka and Taekwondoin engage in dynamic exchanges, something predictable happens: many Karateka start punching like boxers, and many Taekwondoin start kicking like kickboxers.

Master Colin Wee mixing it up at Kidokwan Perth, 2014.
Master Colin Wee mixing it up at Kidokwan Perth, 2014.

Under pressure, practitioners reach for the simplest, most accessible combative analogies available. Boxing and kickboxing offer simple mechanics, high‑yield tactics, intuitive movement, and a plethora of training resources available through YouTube.

Under duress, and when stylisation drops away, almost all practitioners simply default to functional movement.

The Bridge Between Karate and Taekwondo

Karate and Taekwondo do not need to be stylistically similar. They do not need to agree on aesthetics, pedagogy, or organisational identity.

What they do need is an understanding of where their tactical advantage lies beyond blitz logic, and functional mechanics. Style is a school’s training pedagogy. Style is their training method. Aesthetic style however is not the end goal.

When practitioners mature, many transcend stylistic signatures and move toward functional, adaptive, and personal expression. And that is where Karate and Taekwondo finally meet. Not in how they look, but in how they prepare students for growth.