{"id":2824,"date":"2026-02-20T20:06:26","date_gmt":"2026-02-20T11:06:26","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/budobooks.jp\/?p=2824"},"modified":"2026-02-20T20:06:28","modified_gmt":"2026-02-20T11:06:28","slug":"budo-beat-55-the-perpetual-observance-of-etiquette","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/budobooks.jp\/?p=2824","title":{"rendered":"Budo Beat 55: The Perpetual Observance of Etiquette"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

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The \u201cBudo Beat\u201d Blog features a collection of short reflections, musings, and anecdotes on a wide range of budo topics by Professor\u00a0Alex Bennett<\/a>, a seasoned budo scholar and practitioner. Dive into digestible and diverse discussions on all things budo\u2014from the philosophy and history to the practice and culture that shape the martial Way.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The following is a translation of No. 9 of my 25-article series titled \u201cThe Philosophy of Zanshin\u201d (\u6b8b\u5fc3\u306e\u54f2\u5b66) published in Japanese in the Nippon Budokan\u2019s monthly magazine,\u00a0Gekkan Budo<\/a>\u00a0(\u201cBudo Monthly\u201d, September 2023, pp. 32-38). It\u2019s a rough translation, but I hope it offers some insight. You can read the previous articles in this particular series at the following links:<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

No 1. The Philosophy of Zanshin \u2013 \u201cThe Essence of Budo\u201d<\/a><\/strong><\/h6>\n\n\n\n
No 2. The Philosophy of Zanshin \u2013 \u201cThe History of Zanshin (Part 1)\u201d<\/a><\/strong><\/h6>\n\n\n\n
No. 3. The Philosophy of Zanshin \u2013 \u201cThe History of Zanshin\u201d (Part 2)<\/a><\/strong><\/h6>\n\n\n\n
No. 4. The Philosophy of Zanshin \u2013 \u201cThe History of Zanshin\u201d (Part 3)<\/a><\/strong><\/h6>\n\n\n\n
No. 5. The Philosophy of Zanshin \u2013 \u201cThe History of Zanshin\u201d (Part 4)<\/a><\/strong><\/h6>\n\n\n
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Zanshin and Keiko (Part 1) – The Perpetual Observance of Etiquette<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Introduction<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

In recent years, supporters of the Japanese national football team have created what international media have called a \u201cnew tradition\u201d, one that has drawn considerable global attention. After watching their team play, they collect rubbish, sort it carefully, place it into bags, and leave the stadium stands remarkably clean.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This custom has been widely praised around the world as a model of sportsmanship and respect toward the host nation. It not only maintains the cleanliness of the stadium, but also conveys a message of humility and gratitude to local communities and event organisers. Their actions demonstrate deeply rooted cultural values that transcend sport itself: a sense of responsibility and consideration for shared spaces.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In July to August 2023, the FIFA Women\u2019s World Cup was held in my home country of New Zealand and in Australia. As expected, this \u201cnew\u201d Japanese tradition continued there as well, and local newspapers were quick to highlight the exemplary manners of Japanese supporters. When asked, \u201cWhy do Japanese fans clean up after themselves?\u201d one Japanese replied: \u201cWe were taught that it\u2019s only natural to leave a place cleaner than it was before we arrived. And that we should always express our gratitude.\u201d Japanese players, too, have been praised for carefully cleaning their dressing rooms and leaving letters of thanks for local staff.<\/p>\n\n\n

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This scene offers a compelling non-budo illustration of zanshin<\/em> (continued vigilance) and rei<\/em> (respect and manners) expressed in everyday life. Even after the match has concluded, whether in victory or defeat, composure is maintained and respect continues to be shown. The attitude does not end with the final whistle; it lingers on regardless of whether the media is watching or not. In an era marked by relentless and rapid change, many inherited values are questioned, and not all deserve preservation simply by virtue of age. Yet what this example suggests is that certain dispositions\u2014gratitude, restraint, consideration for others\u2014remain deeply relevant. Within budo training (keiko<\/em>), these very qualities are consciously cultivated and transmitted. But they do not float abstractly under the label of \u201ctradition\u201d. They are embedded in the concrete routines of daily practice \u2014 in how we enter the dojo, how we face one another, how we begin and end a session. To understand how rei<\/em> functions in budo, we must therefore look first at the nature of keiko<\/em> itself, for it is within the structure of training that the spirit of respect takes form.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Over the past decade or so, I\u2019ve increasingly noticed posters in sports venues carrying the motto \u6765\u305f\u6642\u3088\u308a\u3082\u30ad\u30ec\u30a4\u306b<\/strong> \u2014 \u201cLeave it cleaner than when you arrived.\u201d The very fact that it needs to be stated suggests that this is not always automatically the case. Even so, in Japan it remains a genuine point of pride to tidy the space after use, whether it is a dojo, a gymnasium, or a stadium.<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

What is Keiko?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before examining rei<\/em> more closely, we must first pause and consider the broader framework within which it operates. In the \u201cBudo Charter\u201d, rei<\/em> does not appear as an isolated virtue but within the explanation of keiko<\/em> itself. In other words, etiquette is not an optional accessory to training; it is embedded in the very definition of what training means.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Article 2 of the \u201cBudo Charter\u201d states the following about keiko<\/em> (training): \u201cWhen training in budo, practitioners must always act with respect and courtesy, adhere to the prescribed fundamentals of the art, and resist the temptation to pursue mere technical skill rather than strive towards the perfect unity of mind, body and technique.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In this formulation, respect and courtesy are presented not as external formalities, but as integral to the process of training itself. Etymology of the word keiko<\/em> can be found in classical Chinese texts such as the Sh\u00e0ngsh\u016b<\/em>\u2019s Y\u00e1odi\u01cen Shujing<\/em> (Book of Documents), particularly in the \u201cCanon of Yao\u201d. In Japan, the term first appears in the preface written by \u014c-no-Yasumaro to the Kojiki<\/em>. There we find the phrase: \u201cBy examining antiquity,[1]<\/a> what has fallen into decline in custom and moral example is set right. By illuminating the present (sh\u014dkon<\/em>), nothing is left undone in sustaining the classical teachings when they stand on the brink of extinction.\u201d In other words, it means to reflect upon the past in order to clarify the present. By studying history, we come to understand how the present state of affairs has been reached through the passage of time, and by extension of that, how we can move into the future.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Keiko Sh\u014dkon (\u7a3d\u53e4\u7167\u4eca) \u2014 \u201cto reflect on the old in order to illuminate the present.\u201d Today we commonly use <\/em>keiko (\u7a3d\u53e4) simply to mean \u201cpractice\u201d or \u201ctraining.\u201d Yet its original sense is much deeper: to study and examine the past so that its insight might clarify the present. In budo, every session of keiko is not just repetition of technique, but an engagement with accumulated tradition meant to shed light on how we move, think, and live now.<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

According to the educational philosopher Nishihira Tadashi, \u201cFrom the medieval period onward, within the thought of the various artistic \u2018Ways\u2019, the meaning of \u2018polishing oneself through keiko\u2019<\/em> became stronger. However, the terminology was not fixed and was used interchangeably with terms such as \u2018self-cultivation\u2019 (sh\u016by\u014d<\/em>), \u2018ascetic training\u2019 (shugy\u014d<\/em>), and \u2018discipline\u2019 (sh\u016bren<\/em>)\u201d (Keiko no Shis\u014d<\/em>, 2019, p. 24).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In twelfth-century France, Bernard of Chartres, a leading figure of the School of Chartres who further developed Platonic thought, famously remarked that \u201cWe are like dwarfs perched on the shoulders of giants, so that we can see more than they, and things at a greater distance\u2014not by virtue of any sharpness of sight on our part, or any physical height, but because we are carried high and raised up by their giant stature.\u201d It is a sentiment that closely parallels the philosophy of keiko<\/em> in budo. The budoka inherits techniques, principles, and wisdom accumulated over centuries. To be involved in budo is to be entrusted with the legacy of a Way<\/em>. One is obliged to question, adapt, and utilise that accumulated wisdom and to serve as a bridge between predecessors and future generations. This is the oft-stated ideal of budo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Although both the words rensh\u016b<\/em> and keiko<\/em> are often translated as \u201cpractice\u201d, they differ in nuance and scope. Rensh\u016b<\/em> usually refers to focused repetition aimed at mastering a particular technique or physical skill. Keiko<\/em>, by contrast, carries a meaning that extends beyond technical training. It carries connotations of spiritual growth and self-cultivation. In other words, keiko<\/em> is not merely about conditioning the body; it is about cultivating one\u2019s character. That is the deeper significance of the \u201cWay\u201d (michi<\/em> or d\u014d<\/em>), the broader philosophical tradition in which budo is understood not merely as technique, but as a lifelong path of self-cultivation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And so, within the worlds of budo and the traditional performing arts, the word keiko<\/em> is regarded as almost sacred. If only I had a hundred-yen for each time I was told \u201cKeiko<\/em> is NOT the same as training or practice in the sense of sports.\u201d Outside Japan, it is often translated simply as \u201ctraining\u201d or \u201cpractice\u201d, yet the word keiko<\/em> itself is gradually becoming an international term, now commonly used within the global budo community.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Changing Manner of Manners in Budo<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Let me now turn to the question and place of \u201crei<\/em>\u201d in budo. Watching a modern budo competition or keiko<\/em> session carefully, the historical layering of etiquette formalities becomes visible in lived practice. In kendo, for example, the competitors step forward, bow to the sh\u014dmen<\/em>, turn to face one another and then perform a mutual bow, advance three steps and go into sonkyo<\/em>, lowering themselves in controlled symmetry before rising into kamae<\/em>. After the bout, regardless of the result, they return to sonkyo<\/em>, stand, bow once more, and withdraw without display. But, what appears seamless and ancient is, in fact, the product of careful standardisation shaped over time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The meaning and practice of \u201cforms of etiquette\u201d (reigi sah\u014d<\/em>) in budo did not emerge fully formed from some timeless past. It evolved in response to shifting cultural, social, and political conditions, particularly from the late Edo period (1603-1868) into the modern era. To be sure, the samurai class for much of its existence was famously attentive to matters of protocol. Schools such as Ogasawara-ry\u016b specialised in courtly etiquette, ceremonial procedure, and ritual propriety, codifying everything from modes of bowing to the correct handling of weapons in formal settings. Yet this does not mean that what we now recognise as \u201cbudo etiquette\u201d existed in a fixed, unified form.<\/p>\n\n\n

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In earlier times, rituals of etiquette in martial training was often local, domain-specific, and shaped by the customs of particular ry\u016bha<\/em> rather than nationally consistent. It commonly involved forms such as sonkyo<\/em>, a crouching bow with one knee and hand touching the ground. This gesture reflected established Japanese customs and embodied the hierarchical and ritual sensibilities of the period. Only in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, as budo was reorganised within modern educational and institutional frameworks, did etiquette become increasingly systematised. As Japan entered the Meiji era (1868-1912) and engaged more directly with the West, ideas about posture, discipline, and public comportment began to change.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

More upright modes of standing and bowing gradually entered martial practice, influenced in part by modern (=Western) military and police training systems that emphasised straight posture, uniformity, and disciplined bearing. The surge of nationalism following the Russo-Japanese War (1904-05) further accelerated this process. The government sought to cultivate discipline, loyalty, and moral rectitude through education and physical training. Debates over seemingly minor matters, such as whether female students should point their toes inward in the traditional manner or outward in accordance with Western physical training, reveal how deeply questions of identity and modernity were embedded in discussions of etiquette. Reih\u014d<\/em> (formalised codes of etiquette) became a site where tradition and modernisation were negotiated rather than simply preserved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The transformation of etiquette was not random but increasingly systematised, especially as budo was incorporated into school education. In 1911, the Ministry of Education published the \u201cSah\u014d Ky\u014dju Y\u014dk\u014d<\/em>\u201d (Guidelines for Teaching Etiquette), which standardised sitting and standing methods, including the prescribed sequence of lowering oneself from the left side and rising from the right in seated bowing (saza-uki<\/em>) \u2014 a procedure still observed in kendo and other budo today. These reforms shaped how generations of students learned to move, sit, stand, and bow in daily life, and they left a lasting imprint on budo etiquette as well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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