Attitude Change, 2010 Edition.


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!

-=[ Grant ]=-
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School spirit.


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 with
AFGWWWTRA. 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.

I'll have more to say when I finish the book.

-=[ Grant ]=-
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Monday meanderings.


GETTING THE MESSAGE: I've been harping on the failures of "Rule #1" for some time now, and it seems that the attitude is catching on. Slowly, but at least progress is being made.

IT ISN'T JUST ME: I've recently expounded on the issue of dogmatic teaching in the self defense world, and I'm not alone in my criticism. Check out this post from Roger Phillips over at warriortalk.com, then read the entire 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! From Dustin's Gun Blog I learned of a new iPhone/iPod Touch app called Legal 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 out at $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!)

-=[ Grant ]=-
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Thoughts on self defense training, Part 8: building blocks.


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.)

Ironic, isn't it?

-=[ Grant ]=-
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Thoughts on self defense training, Part 7: teaching styles.


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.

-=[ Grant ]=-
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Wednesday wanderings.


Lots of linking to avoid thinking on my own!

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Xavier recently posted a letter from - 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.

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When you've finished reading Xavier, pop over to Breda's place and read
this related article she 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.)

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Rob Pincus is one of the more thoughtful trainers working today. He's got a great post up on the Breach-Bang-Clear blog about
putting techniques on pedestals. Highly recommended read.

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Speaking of Rob, I discovered that he has a
blog of his own. Good stuff.

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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.

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Rejoice! Tam has finally posted a
new article over at The Arms Room. (I was beginning to think she'd given up writing about guns...)

-=[ Grant ]=-
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