For a good long while, I’ve been stuck on a simple question: Why is it that sometimes, no matter how many times I correct someone’s kamae or footwork, it just doesn’t stick?
I’ve said it five different ways. And while they might be trying their darndest, the advice still doesn’t seem to land.
So what’s actually going on?
Well, a study out of Case Western Reserve University might shed some light on the problem and help us to make some important (neuro-science backed) changes to the status-quo of dojo instruction.
Here's the gist: Researchers put people into fMRI machines and observed what happened in their brains during different kinds of coaching conversations. Not what they said or felt, but what their brain actually did.
And what researchers found is pretty interesting:
“When coaching begins with a focus on problems, it triggers the brain’s defensive circuitry.”— Passarelli et al., 2023
In other words, when we lead with what’s wrong (i.e. “Your left hand’s dropping,” “You crossed your feet again,” “That was too close”) the brain doesn’t open up. It shuts down. It becomes less open to learning. Less responsive. Less likely to actually change.
Suddenly, all those moments where I’ve had to say the same thing three weeks in a row start to make more sense.
Its not because the advice was wrong (necessarily😉). But because of how I framed it.
The key message of research goes like this: people learn and grow best when feedback connects to their future identity, not just their present mistakes. When we lead with what’s wrong, the brain flinches. But when we lead with what’s possible, with what someone could grow into, the brain lights up. It shifts from protection mode to progress mode.
Interesting, right?
According to Angela Passarelli, one of the lead researchers, the trick is to start by anchoring feedback in something the learner genuinely cares about. Not just “fixing what’s wrong,” but coaching toward who they want to become. That’s when the brain shifts from defensive mode into openness, and when real change becomes possible.
So, with the research in mind, here’s what I’ve been leaning into lately:
Start with their why. Ask early: “What kind of kendo do you want to be known for?” or “What would make you proud of your kendo six months from now?”
Link feedback to identity. Don’t just say “your timing’s off.” Say: “If you want to be the kind of fighter who controls the match, this is where that starts.”
Spot their strengths. If you see a flash of something sharp, name it. Frame it as a building block, not just a bonus.
I don't consider these as 'coaching tricks'. More to the point, they’re mindset shifts: ways of helping someone see themselves, not just as they are now, but as who they’re becoming.
Which leads to the bigger question I keep circling back to when I'm on the floor, and about to launch into my 'usual' feedback trope: Am I coaching the version of the person in front of me right now, or the version they’re working toward?
Because it’s really easy to get stuck firefighting flaws. That’s how most of us were coached, right? Spot the issue, fix the issue, move on. But the more I think about it, the more I wonder: is that really the most powerful use of our/their time?
What if, instead, we helped people own their strengths? Not just pointing them out, but building them into signature traits. Helping them feel like this is what they bring to the floor. This is what makes their kendo theirs.
Importantly, though, this doesn’t mean ignoring flaws. It just means shifting focus toward growth, not just compliance. Coaching the whole person, not just correcting the moment.
With all this as a backdrop, I’ve been trying things a bit different recently.
When I am working with a group deep in grading prep, heading into a tough shiai, or just worn down from the usual training grind, I’ve found that piling on more drills doesn’t always help. What they actually need is a reset - something to bring them back to why they’re doing all this in the first place.
This isn’t a drill, exactly. It’s more like a short guided check-in. But it’s been surprisingly effective at helping people refocus and lift the intensity with purpose. Thought I’d share it here in case it helps in your dojo, too.
Here goes:
Purpose:
Help students tap into their deeper motivation and identity by visualising the kind of kendo they want to be known for, and letting that guide their focus, intensity, and resilience during training.
1) Set the Frame (1–2 minutes)
Say something like:
Give them 30–60 seconds to sit with it. No need to over-direct. Let the space do the work.
2) Anchor to Identity (30 sec)
Now bring it back to the moment:
3) Action (1 rep only)
Have them step in for a single cut, one-on-one, no instruction. Let them carry that mental state into the action.
4) Reflection (optional)
A great way to finish an activity like this is to ask:
You can keep it light, or dig deeper depending on your group and how they are responding to this approach.
Side note: This activity is akin to many tools inside Mastering Mental Skills for Kendo - a course I made for kendo coaches and athletes who want to train more than just technique. It includes heaps of practical routines, scripts, and reflection tools to help you build confidence, composure, and clarity, especially when training gets tough or purpose gets blurry.
If that’s something you or your students could use, you’ll find the more information here.
You can correct someone’s technique all day. But if they don’t feel like they’re becoming the someone they want to be through their efforts — not just performing better, but actually growing — the impact is likely to be short-lived.
“Coaching for compliance can produce short-term gains, but coaching for inspiration creates lasting change.” — Passarelli et al., 2023
And that, to me, is what we’re actually here for. Not just cleaner men-uchi, but stronger people. People who believe in where they’re heading, and feel like we believe in it, too.
Like I like to say: We don’t coach kendo. We coach people.
And people don’t grow just because we point out what’s wrong. They grow when their progress feels meaningful. When they can see who they’re becoming, and know they’re not doing it alone.
• Better coaching to promote a person’s growth: Case Western Reserve University