The first Dan system, ranging from 1 to 10, was used by Jigoro Kano at the Kodokan since 1882; Legend has it that Jigoro Kano borrowed it from a Go school of the Edô period which itself was inspired by the hierarchical advancement levels of civil servants in ancient Chinese society. Jigoro Kano brought it with him when he entered as a teacher at the Dai Nippon Butokukai (Association of Martial Virtues of Greater Japan, a non-governmental organization created in 1895). The kyu system (1 to 6) has been used by the police (Keishicho) since 1886.
In 1917, the Kenjutsu within the Butokukai, under the direction of TAKANO Sasaburo, decided to adopt the Dan system but only up to the 5th Dan, and continuing with the shogos: Renshi, Kyoshi and Hanshi.
Since 1937, grades beyond the 5th Dan were introduced. The 10-Dan-system was officially established by ZNKR* in 1957.
In 2000, the Japanese federation decided to no longer award 9th and 10th Dan and so the highest Dan awarded would be the 8th.
What could be the point of ranking practitioners in this way?
Yes, if we look more closely, we can very easily make the analogy with the advancement grades in a military career. Could it be the martial side that requires it?
What is the purpose of this recognition of level?
Doesn't the level demonstrated during the grading examination fade over time?
Should we talk about level, or would it be more accurate to speak about advancement? ...ok, but advancement of what?
With this article, I do not claim to answer all these questions but to offer some insights so that everyone can form their own opinion.
The rank system can be seen as a military concept from another age, which was established by an old mode of society that is no longer in use. Knowing who is our superior and who is our subordinate would allow us to find our way as to our rank in society. It would be like an identity positioning in a way. For alignment in the dojo, the order of Dan being the rule, moving up in the line when we obtain the higher Dan can flatter the lowest instincts of the ego.
We all know a few practitioners, they are not many, who say they prefer not to, or no longer, pass grades. Once we have identified those who make this choice out of fear of failure, the others seem to have a real ideological determination on the subject. I encourage them to express themselves in one of the following issues of Ken Do Mag.
The relationship with oneself can blossom once all the petty thoughts that human nature is fond of have been evacuated: who has not, one day, ardently wished to succeed in their grade in order to join or surpass this or that, or as revenge on an element external to oneself?!
It is by humbly refocusing on our own advancement, progression, elevation (!) that we can find the true meaning of the grade system. The objectives of progress, of personal accomplishment through the practice of one or more Budo, are benchmarks, milestones that trace our route on the path of the sword.
Kendo, in the broad sense including in my opinion all the arts of the Japanese Sword, is designed to discipline the character of man through the implementation of the principles of the sword. And of course, this discipline of character, this elevation of the level of the human being that we are, is most often visible only because it is measured; it is therefore evaluated by means of the grading examination.
Of course, this is only made possible if the attribution of a grade has an intrinsic value and truly representative of the evolution of a practitioner.
I have already written and held discussions in recent years on the subject; I also contributed to the initiative of an annex to the EKF grade regulations validated in July 2024 at the EKF General Assembly in Milan.
The value of a grade comes solely from the way it is attributed. First of all, the jury must be made up of experts in the discipline, coming from diverse backgrounds both in their membership in Ryuha*, and having had different backgrounds, senseis and different visions of the discipline. Once such a jury is formed, when a candidate manages to gather on his name (his number) a majority, or even the unanimity of the members of the jury, the intrinsic value of the grade obtained becomes evident.
While trying to limit as much as possible the judgments by "default that something" in order to privilege the positive elements of the performance, a juror must judge the performance of the candidates in a holistic way, that is to say by considering all of what the candidate presents as a whole; and this whole provokes an emotion in favour or to the detriment of the attribution of the vote. Overall, it is a subjectivity, which is nevertheless in its own way reasoned and controlled, and thus (surprisingly) becomes the founding element of the judgement.
A message to the jurors: Judge in your soul and conscience! Do not try to find consensus, if your votes are identical to the final results, your contribution will have been mathematically non-existent in this examination.
Most often, your judgment will be clear: yes "O" or no "X". Sometimes, it may happen to you to be uncertain about a candidate. In this case, give your vote to this candidate because, if he has cast doubt on your expertise, he certainly has some value hidden within him. If you are the only one in this case, no consequences, but if he has convinced or shaken the certainties of enough other jurors, given the long experience and the plurality of the paths of each of the jurors, it is because this candidate deserves his grade.
And if as a jury, you still have only certainties, this is precisely where you should question yourself.
"We are only champions for a day, but a grade must be proved during each training session." (Martial wisdom)
By virtue of this principle, and a few others besides, preparing specifically for a grading examination is a concept that has always seemed strange to me. I do not understand the need to prepare in any way other than through the usual training, the continual progression linked to our journey on the way of the sword.
Does this mean that you have to prepare specifically because you are not at the right level and you want to make a "coup" during the exam by means of detailed cramming? And in this case, if by chance you get it, will you continue to deserve this grade as soon as the exam is over? I hear some of my Kendô friends put forward the following clichés: "You have to organize specific training courses to prepare for passing the high grades." Or again: "I don't have enough opportunity to do enough keiko with high-level fighters to progress."
As you can see, I do not share these points of view.
I hesitated for a long time to mention it as the subject is so personal, and besides, it is only my personal point of view that I express; However, perceiving around me various types of incomprehension of my approach, here I am. I used the word quest in reference to that of the Grail as the target can seem unattainable, if we take into account the required criteria (7th Dan for 10 years) to present oneself and if we realize the low percentage of success (6 received for 1000 candidates on average).
The temptation to imagine succeeding is great. I resist it because pretension is not a factor of success: the battle of Marathon is a good lesson given to the Persians. After my 5th attempt at the 8th Dan, last May, I realized that each attempt brought me many benefits: technical, mental, personal… As if each failure, but is it really one, made me climb an additional step. With all due respect to a few chronic Cartesians, presenting my 8th Dan is an integral part of my training as a Kenshi, a teacher, and a human in general.
To meditate on, and it is an endless learning process, the poetic advice that HIGASHI Yoshimi sensei, member of my jury for the month of May 2024, gave me is: "The technique is good, you just have to make your heart blossom even more widely". Quite a program!
We must consider a Shinsa more like an audition than an exam; an audition for a role: that of Xth Dan for life. The Shinsa is only an assessment of our progress. Showing who we are, to the best of your value, is the only goal to seek for a Shinsa. The jury does the rest.
The jury is a measuring tool, it must not modify the quality of the experience: in short, you must not do anything to please the jury.
Be convinced of your value, convince your partner of it and, if the value corresponds to the expected grade, the jury will be convinced.
*ZNKR: Zen Nihon Kendo Renmei, Japanese Kendo Federation. Also seen under the acronym AJKF: All Japan Kendo Federation.
*Ryuha: Old style sword school, a term mainly found in Iaido