I've been actively interested in the topic of self defense training
since the early 90s. Over the last decade, particularly in the last
five years, a lot of my original opinions regarding self defense
have changed. This isn't because I'm wishy-washy and unable to hold
on to an opinion (just ask my wife!) Rather, such change is brought
about by being exposed to new information, or because new research
alters original assumptions.
As this year winds down, I thought it might be interesting to take
a look at just a few of the things about which I've changed my mind
in the last decade.
- The value of competitive shooting: back in the mid '90s I was
part of a local group looking to advance our defensive skills
through "tactical" competition. We tried rules, targets and
procedures from USPSA, IDPA (as soon as it was formed), and even
early versions of what would become The Polite Society rules. All
of them had serious flaws, and we ultimately tried to develop our
own rules and even specialized targets. By about 2000 we'd
abandoned the effort altogether, and I shot my last "tactical"
match of any sort in 2002. At the time I couldn't quite put my
finger on why, but it just didn't seem that it was possible to get
actual training value out of a game. Eight years later I'm better
able to articulate the "why" than I was back then, as I learn more
about both actual defensive encounters and how the mind reacts to
them. Today I tell my students that competition may be a fun hobby,
but there are serious scientific and practical reasons why it's
neither training nor good preparation for self defense. Some gaming
adherents react with predictable vitriol, but I've developed a
sufficiently thick skin.
- The .357 Magnum as a defensive cartridge: at one time I was a
huge proponent of the .357 as a "manstopper". I stopped carrying
the load in 2004 or so because I came to the realization that all
handgun cartridges are relatively weak, and expecting a single shot
to reliably stop a determined attacker was sheer folly. From this
came the realization of what ends fights: rapid, multiple, combat
accurate hits on target. It was clear to me that I could not
deliver that kind of performance given the recoil of a Magnum
cartridge, and elected to give up sheer power in favor of
controllability and recoil recovery.
- Night sights: all my friends had them, and I too was once
convinced they were the be-all and end-all of defensive shooting.
Oddly it took me some time to realize a simple fact: if there was
enough light to positively identify my target, there was enough to
get a visual alignment of the gun (using the sights or otherwise.)
If there wasn't enough light to get a solid visual index, I
probably couldn’t be sure of my target. Playing around with
these ideas on darkened to downright dark ranges pretty much
confirmed my suspicions. Looked at in this light (yes, I worked
hard to make that pun) my conclusion is that night sights don't
have a lot of value.
- The importance of changing your mind: in the last few years
it’s sunk into my thick head that if you are putting yourself
out there, stretching your intellectual muscles and exposing
yourself to new ideas and concepts, you are going to end up
changing your mind about something. You have to, if you're
intellectually honest! If one is to assume to any degree the
appellation of 'professional' in regards to training, one has to be
able to grow and progress intellectually. To grow, one must change;
it can happen in no other way. Doggedly sticking to an opinion for
no other reason than inertia (or dislike of the person presenting
new information) is inherently unprofessional; it stifles growth.
I've met people, some students and some instructors, who simply
could not accept that perhaps there was an objectively better way
of doing something, or a factual reason why another approach might
be more relevant than their own. I've resolved not to be so
intransigent - how about you?
So much for 2010! On Friday I'll have the weekly surprise, and next
Monday I'll kick off a new year of what I hope will be even more
illuminating, annoying, challenging, informative, entertaining,
infuriating, and progressive blog posts. I hope you'll continue to
tag along!
Rivalries among neighboring schools are nothing new. They start in
high school, and continue into college: here in my slice of heaven,
it's the Oregon State University Beavers versus the University of
Oregon Ducks. In Texas, it's the Aggies and the Longhorns. Alumni
from the respective schools can get downright cantankerous when
discussing the "other" team.
So too with shooting schools. Graduates of one school (or, more
commonly, one instructor) hold their alma mater or guru to possess
the "true way" and refuse to even acknowledge that others exist. In
the worst cases, the arguments end up sounding an awful lot like
"my Dad can beat up your Dad".
This came up the other day in a discussion I had withAFGWWWTRA. The term that sparked the
conversation was "disciples", and I think that conveys the thought
quite nicely. Once one has invested time, effort, and money into an
area of interest it's hard to accept that there are other,
competing, interests in the world which might just have validity as
well. The guru becomes infallible, because if he/she isn't the
disciple has wasted time, effort, and money - and who is ever going
to admit to that?
I'm not immune; I went through a mild episode of school spirit some
years back, but since then I've progressed a bit. I'm open to new
ways of thinking and new methods of doing, and my attitude has gone
from "so and so says this and it is immutable" to "show me why."
The litmus test of any technique or opinion is not the logical
fallacy of argument from authority, but rather that it makes sense
given an open and agreed-upon criteria.
In an odd coincidence, I just started reading a book that explains
this behavior, and as it turns out the concepts involved may have
profound implications for self defense. They go well beyond the
guru, school, stance, grip, or anything else, and deal with our
behavior at a surprisingly base level. In other words, discipleship
in and of itself, irrespective of doctrine or dogma, may affect how
one performs in a violent encounter.
IT
ISN'T JUST ME:I've recently expounded on
the issue of
dogmatic teachingin the self defense world,
and I'm not alone in my criticism.Check out this post from Roger Phillipsover at
warriortalk.com, then read theentire discussion. (I've never met Roger,
don't know him from Adam, but he makes sense. Can't say that about
everyone.)
POCKET
COMPANION:no, not a J-frame!
FromDustin's Gun BlogI learned of a new
iPhone/iPod Touch app calledLegal Heat. It's an interactive
version of their printed guide to concealed carry and gun laws in
all 50 states, written by attorneys and instructors. It' a great
idea, and something that's needed. Unfortunately, despite the
viability of the concept I cannot in good conscience recommend this
particular app.
There is a big issue with Legal Heat's usability. The pages are
just images of the book, which means they're pictures and not text.
This sounds inconsequential, but it's not. When you bring up the
laws on a state, because it's showing the whole page the text is
tiny; unreadably small. To read it, you need to magnify the image
by pinching. (The usual double-tap doesn't work, because it doesn't
work on full-frame images!) Once you magnify the image to read the
text, you have to continually scroll back and forth because images
don't wrap text. Finally, the app doesn't support screen rotation;
it only displays in portrait orientation, which exacerbates the
scrolling issue.
Frankly, iPhone users are accustomed to a higher level of
application quality than Legal Heat delivers. If they would simply
make their pages actual text and enable screen rotation I'd be
comfortable recommending it. As it stands, even at $1.99 it's not
worth the hassle.
DEAL
ALERT:My background in commercial
photography has left me more than a little anal retentive with
regards to optics, particularly when it comes to binoculars. I'm a
fan of porro-prism designs, as they a) have better
three-dimensional perspective, b) are brighter, and c) cost less
than roof-prism types for any given level of optical quality
(resolution/contrast.)
Minox makes some of the best porro-prism binocs. The optical
performance is exceptional, and the build quality matches the
glass. They make an 8x and a 10x version, and at a street price of
roughly $550 they are something of a bargain; you'll need to spend
roughly twice as much to get a roof prism of comparable
performance, and you still won't get the perspective advantage that
the porro-prism design gives you.
Despite their advantages, porro-prism designs are distinctly
unfashionable these days and don't sell well regardless of brand.
Roof prisms are what people buy, and Minox has bowed to the market:
they've discontinued the 10x model.SWFA
is closing them outat $299.95, which has to be
classed as a screaming good deal. You won't find anything even
approaching their optical performance for that kind of money. (Yes,
I grabbed a pair - for that price, I wasn't about to pass them
up!)
In
a previous episode, I talked about doctrine,
dogma, and cliché. One particular subject is very often the source
of instructional dogmatism, and sometimes spills over into cliché:
the shooting stance.
Since we're talking about self defense, let's start with the
conclusion: as I study surveillance films of actual shootings, and
as I play with the concepts of force-on-force training, I'm struck
by the fact that violent encounters rarely involve an identifiable
stance. The players, especially the defender, are shooting from
whatever position in which they happen to find themselves.
If that's the end result, do we even need to worry about stances?
Why do we bother spending the time working on the isoceles,
Chapman, or Weaver stances when we're probably not going to be
using them when reality comes barging into our lives?
Over Thanksgiving I was discussing this with Georges Rahbani("The Best Rifle Instructor You've Never Heard
Of".)For many years his 'Fighting
Rifle' triad has started with basic stances ('platforms', in
rifle-speak) and ended up with shooters using whatever stance they
happened upon in the course of the encounter. He explained that a
basic stance allows the student to do two very important things:
first, to eliminate a variable that keeps them from focusing on the
necessary stuff like trigger control and sight picture. Second, it
helps to develop the level of confidence necessary to be able to
control the shot no matter what. Once those have been achieved, the
notion of a stance can be jettisoned on the way to a better
understanding of a violent encounter.
Some may immediately think of the term 'training wheels', but I
prefer to call the stance a 'scaffold': a temporary device that
allows us to build something. In the case of a defensive shooter,
we're building a skill set. Without the support of the scaffold -
the solid, repeatable stance - it's difficult, if not impossible,
to build those skills. With it, the student can focus on the truly
important things, secure in the knowledge that they are operating
from a stable base.
The problem comes when the instructor doesn't understand the true
nature of the shooting stance. In those cases, the stance becomes
an end unto itself: it drives the instruction, rather than serving
as an instructional tool.
A few years back I had an encounter with an instructor who didn't
understand this. He went to great lengths explaining why his
preferred Weaver stance was the "only stance anyone should ever
need." When queried about physical makeup, gun/hand fit, and other
variables that affect the success or failure of any given stance
with any given student, all he could do was sputter that the Weaver
was "proven" to be superior. His dogma was well on the road to
cliché.
I've met many shooters who were victims of such shortsighted
teachers. More than once have I observed graduates of multiple
shooting classes displaying the necessity of getting into just the
"perfect" stance in order to shoot. Forced out of that comfort
zone, they literally cannot hit the target. Their teachers were so
focused on stance that they forgot about the rest of the act of
shooting. The stance had become a destination, rather than the
journey which it should be.
Roger
Phillips, one of the new breed of
fight-focused instructors, puts it very well:"Situations dictate
strategies, strategies dictate tactics, and tactics dictate
techniques……techniques
should not dictate anything."Yes, you need to
learn a stance that is comfortable and repeatable for you.
Understand, though, that when shooting for your life your favorite
stance is more than likely going to be abandoned for whatever
position the situation allows. Wouldn't it be a good idea to train
for that eventuality?
Use a preferred stance to build your trigger control and sighting
skills; once that's done, learn to shoot from a 'non-stance'. Get
used to being able to deliver combat accurate hits from any angle,
any position, while still or moving. If you've used the basic
stance properly, you'll find that you no longer need it (at least,
for this kind of shooting.)
In my experience, those who teach the martial art of the gun
exhibit several styles of instruction: doctrine, dogma, and
cliché.
'Doctrine' is that core body of concepts/techniques which are (or
should be) taught as a cohesive whole. They are the things for
which an instructor or school becomes known. At their best, those
concepts and techniques reflect reality; they fit together and
support each other. They make sense when thought of as a unit. They
reflect an overriding philosophy of instruction, and should not be
in conflict with that philosophy or each other. Doctrine should be
verifiable, and it should stand scrutiny. It should be open to
question, and be able to answer for itself. Doctrine evolves, it
progresses, as the world around it does.
When doctrine becomes stagnant, or a teacher becomes enamored with
his/her own perceived infallibility, doctrine is replaced with
dogma. Pronouncements are made, not based on reason or experience
or research, but on the strength of the teacher's personality or
reputation. Questions are answered dismissively, in a manner that
reinforces the inferior status of the student. "Best practices" are
replaced by "one true way"; dogma does not evolve, because it is
self-reinforcing. Learning, in the sense of adoption of the dogma,
may happen - but understanding rarely does.
The worst form of instruction occurs when the teacher has neither
doctrine nor dogma. Instead, he relies on cliché: pithy sayings and
one-liners that replace dialogue and reason. The cliché is
delivered in such a manner as to take on a life of its own, as it
has no context. It allows neither questioning nor independent
thought, but rather aims to eliminate both. Its relationship to the
world at large is tenuous at best; it is the perfect embodiment of
the famous quote from Mythbuster's Adam Savage:
Cliché travels far and wide,
because it's easy to remember. People may not understand it, but
they sure can repeat it!
It's rare that an instructor spends all of his time in one style.
He may switch patterns or incorporate elements of another style,
depending on his goal and talent. The doctrinal instructor, for
instance, may use cliché as a memory aid or mnemonic tool to help
his students retain information, while the dogmatic instructor may
use it instead to quash dissent or inquiry that threatens his
authority. Every instructor will have a primary style, though,
reflecting his abilities and grasp of the subject matter.
It's not unusual to find what started as doctrine is presented as
dogma in less capable hands. For instance, an instructor may be a
devotee of a certain school of arms. That school may have the best
doctrinal approach to teaching, but when the student instructor
brings the information back to his students, something is lost in
translation. The instructor may not have understood what he was
being taught, or simply lacks the talent to transmit that
information to others. In either case, he may translate the
doctrine into dogma and present that to his students. Like the
grade-school game of 'telephone', the original intent is
garbled.
That is, unless great care is taken to make sure that the student
instructor truly understands the material, and is held to the same
high standards as the school itself. That's rare in the firearms
field.
Xavier recently posted a letterfrom - and his
response to - one of his readers. The exchange (and the comments
that follow) bring up important issues in the area of Second
Amendment activism. It isn't always black-and-white.
---
When you've finished reading Xavier, pop over to Breda's place and
readthis related articleshe posted about a month
ago. (I realize it's a bit late, and I'd meant to bring it up
earlier, but just kept forgetting.)
---
Rob Pincus is one of the more thoughtful trainers working today.
He's got a great post up on the Breach-Bang-Clear blog aboutputting techniques on
pedestals. Highly recommended
read.
---
Speaking of Rob, I discovered that he has ablog of his
own.
Good stuff.
---
Not just techniques get put on pedestals; equipment does too. There
are the 1911 people, the Glock folks, the "any caliber as long as
it begins with '4' " crowd, and so on. I suppose one could accuse
me of doing the same thing with wheelguns (retro pedestal?), but
I'm on record as saying - more than once - that the revolver isn't
the perfect tool for everyone and every purpose.
For example, a number of years ago I was engaged in an activity of
some risk. For that, I forsook my beloved revolver for a Glock and
all the high capacity magazines I could fit under a suit coat. I
believe in picking the right tool for the job; it just so happens
that, for some jobs, the revolver is at least one of the right
tools.
You're
reading... The Revolver Liberation
Alliance! The blog about revolvers,
training, self-defense, and shooting in general (along with an
occasional surprise!)