Disoriented: Turned Around in Martial Arts
A behavior you see most often in the early stages of martial arts striking that can still occur at the professional level is turning your back on your opponent or spinning around. Never turning your back to an opponent is often taught as the first and most important rule of striking. Some coaches will tell you this rule on your first day and get on you whenever you break this rule. Yet even without being told, people intuitively understand the vulnerability of exposing their backs in various situations outside of martial arts. So not turning our backs is a given.
I never pre-emptively tell people not to turn their backs or get on them that turning their back is a cardinal sin because it doesn't stop people from doing it. Turning their back and ultimately turning around is not an information problem or a memory problem. People don't turn around because they want to or forget not to—they do it because they lose sight of their opponent and get disoriented. Disoriented means not knowing where you are, but it also means confusion. When people are confused, they make rash decisions.
In our previous discussion on how our vision profoundly affects our movement, I said that the eyes will seek their target. In trying to find the target, sometimes practitioners will turn their back or spin around. It's not done consciously, so you can't even decide not to do it. It's an automatic response in the absence of skillfulness (or a panic response, which is still unconscious). It only becomes turning or spinning around because the opponent wasn't where the practitioner thought they'd be.
If the opponent was there, there would be no turn. It just means the practitioner went the wrong way, and since we rarely move backward in our regular life, it's more natural for people to keep going the way they were going in search of their target than to go back or reset. In fact, going backward feels like you're exposing your back, which is part of why people go the other way (and end up actually exposing their back). Resetting or reloading a movement is not a natural response but a learned one. Therefore, saying, "Don't turn your back," is often pointless because they weren't trying to turn their back on their opponent but face them. The problem isn't forgetting a cardinal rule; it's a wayfinding problem. They know the rule, they just don't know which way is what. What they need is to be taught how to find their way.
Rather than simply relying on instruction (telling them not to do it), I prefer to let practitioners experience firsthand the disorientation and confusion of losing their opponent and having made that situation worse. Rather than abstract, irrelevant, and forgotten instruction, by allowing practitioners to navigate this challenging situation early on in a safe environment, what could have been a traumatic lesson becomes an embodied learning experience that fosters a deeper understanding of orientation and wayfinding that avoids habituating panicked responses. Rather than instruction, they learn through guided discovery.
All of our behaviors and consequences during striking (and all of martial arts) are determined by perception, yet we don't prioritize perception.
In combat, your opponent is your North Star. You lose your opponent, you not only lose your reference point but also where you are. The term "orientation" is fitting because it means your relative position, while "disoriented" captures the sense of being adrift without a reference point. Therefore, it's natural for people to turn around when disoriented—it's an attempt at wayfinding. When you lack confidence in your ability to find your way, there can be panic, escalation, and a hasty attempt at finding an immediate solution (finding your way).
Instances of when disorientation might occur are after a punch, kick, or block where the practitioner over-rotates and loses sight of their opponent. For example, they may unintentionally rotate their head and gaze along with their technique or avert their eyes while ducking or blocking.
I can often induce a reflexive response to spin by side stepping into a beginner opponent's blind spot after an over-rotation. Turning your back, turning around, and spinning are reflexes. It's no different from the grappling reflex for beginners to push their opponent away, thereby extending their own arm for an armbar. Time-space is an essential concept in Liberation Martial Arts (LMA), and just as it's reflex to orient, it's also reflex to create space.
By over-rotating, you are losing your reference point (your Way) by a matter of degrees. Rather than continuing to turn that dial in the wrong direction and continuing your rotation, that reflex must be replaced by a new habit: turning the dial back to the reference point. I call this reloading. Once we know what skill is lacking, it's easy to design a game to acquire that skill. (E.g., have a partner rush you after a technique and try to face them before they can touch you).
As previously mentioned, perception extends beyond vision alone. Even when you lose sight of your opponent, after some (wayfinding) experience, you can predict, anticipate, remember, or feel where your opponent is, so you're always oriented to them, whether your gaze is constantly fixed on them or not. (You don't need to always see the North Star to know where you are.)
The issue of losing gaze and turning around was recently discussed among LMA practitioners, and it gained further attention during the Norma Dumont versus Chelsea Chandler fight in UFC on ESPN: Holm vs. Bueno Silva.
Chandler, already positioned sideways, leaned back to evade a punch but progressively turned and moved away from strikes, making it easier for Dumont to land shots and for Chandler to lose her ability to counter effectively. To make matters (and her disorientation) worse, Chandler even closed her eyes during the exchange.
When Chandler could no longer see Dumont, she turned her back and reflexively attempted to create space (she ran).
It was only when Chandler reached the fence that she could turn back around. Since she knew the cage was behind her, she could now orient to Dumont. By grabbing Dumont, Chandler not only defended herself from strikes but also gained absolute certainty of Dumont's location—even with her eyes closed.
Why do we seek physical connection when we haven't seen someone in a long time? Because it embodies where they are. Embracing is finding—it gives us security and orientation. Grasping Dumont let Chandler know where her North Star was, buying her valuable time to de-escalate the fight away from a stoppage. Chandler managed to fight to a decision.
Fighting is a game of perception and space, and rash behaviors, even among professionals, can arise when either element is distorted.
✊✊✊
(I write daily about martial arts and other topics from a liberatory perspective. If you like my work, upgrade your subscription. You can also support me on Patreon or make a one-time donation on Ko-fi. Find Southpaw at its website. Get the swag on Spring. Also check out Liberation Martial Arts Online.)