What the authors have done in this book is simply to give you a taste. Don’t try to memorize the differences in application between a technique used on an enemy and a drunk. Try to understand the differences and then take a hard look at your own training. Knowing that there is a difference between submitting an opponent and disabling an enemy is not the same as practicing the difference, nor is it a guarantee that you can switch to the appropriate mindset at the right time.
If you are preserving a quick-killing soldier’s art from the old days, what must be modified to handle someone you don’t wish to hurt? What must you learn to bring it in line with a legal environment the founders never imagined?
Studying one thing is not, and never can be, studying everything.
Train hard. Pay attention. Ask questions. Do your best to always be clear about what you are really doing and why.
Rory Miller is the author of Meditations on Violence, Violence: A Writer’s Guide, Facing Violence, and Force Decisions, among others, and co-author (with Lawrence Kane) of Scaling Force. His writings have also been featured in Loren Christensen’s Fighter’s Fact Book 2, Kane/Wilder’s The Little Black Book of Violence, and The Way to Black Belt. He has been studying martial arts since 1981. Though he started in competitive martial sports, earning college varsities in judo and fencing, he found his martial “home” in the early Tokugawa-era battlefield system of Sosuishi-ryu kumi uchi (jujutsu).
A veteran corrections officer and Corrections Emergency Response Team (CERT) leader, Rory has hands-on experience in hundreds of violent altercations. He has designed and taught courses for law enforcement agencies including confrontational simulations, uncontrolled environments, crisis communications with the mentally ill, CERT operations and planning, defensive tactics, and use of force policy. His training also includes witness protection, close-quarters handgun, Americans for Effective Law Enforcement (AELE) discipline and internal investigations, hostage negotiations, and survival and integrated use of force.
He recently spent a year in Iraq helping the government there develop its prison management system. Rory currently teaches seminars on violence internationally, and in partnership with Marc MacYoung has developed Conflict Communications, a definitive resource for understanding and controlling conflict. Rory’s website is www.chirontraining.com. He lives near Portland, Oregon.
Foreword—by Marc MacYoung
The last time I found myself looking down the barrel of a cop’s gun, I was kneeling on some guy’s head.
In the officer’s defense, it was the middle night in a bad part of town, we were out on the sidewalk and there were two of us on top of this guy. So his pointing a pistol at us was an understandable reaction.
The nice policemen suggested that I and my partner might want to stop what we were doing and allow the other gentleman to get up. I held up my hands and said, “I will comply! But this guy is on the fight and, if we let him go, there’s a good chance he’ll attack us again.”
Still, the officer was adamant about us letting the li’l feller go. While we were discussing his release, two more police cars arrived. We stepped back and the guy popped up like a jack-in-the-box from hell. We were quickly separated into two groups by the officers and questioned. As should be the case, we were facing the officer interviewing us with our backs to the other individual involved.
We told our story: who we were, where we worked, that this intoxicated individual had attacked two customers attempting to enter the business. We’d come to their assistance. He had a death grip on one of the customer’s shirt and I’d used a knife to cut it, so they could jump in their car and leave the scrap of cloth that was still lying on the sidewalk). We’d waited until they had left, then we let him up. When we did so, he’d attacked us. Once again we’d put him down in a controlled manner and were trying to talk him down when the officer had arrived.
The officer looked at me and asked, “Did you hit him?”
“No sir. I did a prescribed takedown to control him without injury. We never struck him, just controlled him so he couldn’t hurt us or the others.”
About then the other party decided to offer a suggestion to a female police officer. Not only was the suggestion not polite, but it was loud too. As a final point, he called her a name. Women generally do not like being referred to as that particular part of their anatomy.
The officer in front of us blinked when he heard this. He quietly said, “You two can go.” We politely thanked the officer and returned to the business. We looked over to see our old friend now had new friends—who were also kneeling on his head.
This story exemplifies many different and important points about a violent encounter. First of all, odds are good you will be dealing with the police.
Second, there was a potentially deadly weapon present. It wasn’t used on anyone. It was used to cut cloth to let someone escape and then it was put away. Could I have slashed his arm? Yes. And I would have gone to prison for assault with a deadly weapon because it wasn’t necessary.
Third, this situation wasn’t self-defense. Nor was it a “fight” to win, dominate, or prove whose pee-pee was bigger, teach someone a lesson, or punish him. None of the normal definitions people commonly banter around in the martial arts applied to this situation.
Fourth, it was a use-of-force situation with a clearly defined goal, tactics, and integrated with verbal communication. “We don’t want to hurt you. If you calm down, we’ll let you up.”
Fifth, not only would punching the guy have been inappropriate, but it would have gotten us arrested. That question about whether or not we had hit him was a trap to get us to admit excessive force. But that’s not as important as knowing that use of force is a “Goldilocks and the Three Bears” issue. This one is too little. This one is too much. This one is just right.
Sixth, our calm, professional, and cooperative demeanor—as we articulated the facts of the situation—is what kept us from getting arrested. This, even though the situation had started with us looking down the barrel of a pistol. Had we jumped up and down, howled, screamed, made accusations, and insulted the other guy, we would have ended up, like him, down on the ground with someone kneeling on our heads.
Dirty Ground won’t teach you how to deal with the police. What it will do is help you understand use of force choices and pick a response that is both better for the task at hand and more defensible. That’s a pretty important thing to know. It’s also a gaping hole in most martial arts AND so-called “self-defense” training.
Simply stated, despite fantasies about muggers and drugged up bikers jumping you, most violence happens between people who know each other. Yes, it could be a fight or it could just as likely be something else. What? Having to drag a drunken friend who’s out of line from a party, or your mother comes to you at a family reunion and says, “Your uncle Albert is drunk again; you’re a martial artist; go deal with him.” These are the everyday realities of how violence actually happens. Realities ignored by most training.
You can’t punch Drunken Uncle Albert without getting Aunt Betty mad at you. If you do, odds are good he’ll punch you back and you’ll be in a fight. This doesn’t look good either with your family members or the police when you try to convince them you weren’t fighting. Punching him also doesn’t win you points with your drunken friend when he sobers up.
Controlling someone without hurting him is exactly what grappling is best for. It is, by definition, a dominance and submission game without injury. You can defend your actions to the police a lot better by grappling with someone who is acting up a lot better than you can by punching him out.
This is why Dirty Ground is such an important book. It looks at the actual application of grappling in that context instead of the fantasy of “self-defense” or the restrictions