My dad is stronger than your dad.

I was hanging around after my Kung Fu class earlier today, when, unsurprisingly, the topic of which martial art is better than the other came up. Frankly, I can't count how many times I have heard and/or participated in this particular argusation and I have come to realize that it is as unwinnable as it is entertaining.

The plot tends to go something like this: “My martial art,” whatever that may be, “is better than your martial art.”

Among martial artists, or martial art enthusiasts, this is about the most incendiary comment that exists. Like napalm on Wheaties, It explodes, usually into a million hypothetical scenarios ranging in tone from academic to something you might hear on a playground full of four year olds. The whole thing is preposterous, so obviously its the perfect subject for a blog!

For some reason, today the debate got me thinking. What exactly is the answer to this persistent question, or is there even one to be found? And if indeed there is a solution, what experiment could possibly be used to substantiate it?

Let us consider some possibilities. The popular method of evaluation tends to be an all out brawl between two well established practitioners, preferably to the death, because, lets face it, there is a lot of testosterone to be satiated. This can fit the category of some sort of single elimination tournament. Alternatively, a round robin might be suggested – but that demands that people live, so lets just imagine that they are resurrected without being significantly worse for wear for each consecutive match. Or how 'bout just dumping the master of every martial art in a ring and seeing who lives? No matter, objections abound regardless of the format.

First, not all martial artists are made equal; some are naturally taller, faster, stronger, hairier, more aggressive, have better reflexes, or better eyesight – to name only a few. Some are in the prime of their years, others are older, some have been training for longer than others. Some might have even trained in more than one art (God forbid!). Then, there are random influences; some fighters might arrive to their bout fatigued from a long flight from some secluded backwater village who knows where, or have developed an awful case of dysentery from the local cuisine... you get the point. If you wish to accurately compare two martial arts, you need remove the issue of the practitioner.

So let us settle this with a very practical fix: Take one baby, preferably Chuck Norris, and clone him a bunch. Send each baby to learn a different art for, oh lets say 30 years, then have a melee. Alas, this, I'm sorry to say, still isn't good enough.

The second big issue is the problem of the arts themselves. Martial arts are like living organisms, they evolve over time, or as is commonly said in the business, over generations. The techniques of a particular inventor of a style are transferred to a group of students, and tend to be changed in the process. The students will then imperfectly recall their training, as well as modifying techniques based on their body types and personal/outside experience. Eventually, a tiny minority will become 'senior students' and will pass on their own brand art to students of their own. Sometimes schools meet and, through the cooperation of several practitioners, their arts go through a transformation into a new, distinct style. Additionally, there are often several teachers within a particular style that practice differently from one another. All of these factors makes pinning down a particular brand of martial art especially difficult, and I have not come up with a passable workaround.

Another problem is stylistic advantages: All other things being equal, some martial arts may be especially effective against a small group of styles, while having weaknesses against others. While not being entirely certain, this is probably true. If so, it means that no one art can ever truly be supreme, though it might have the highest rate of success. Statistics and probability don't solve this conundrum entirely, though it wouldn't hurt to have an enormous pool of data, indicating the probable outcome of a fight between the Chuck Norris who trained Shaolin White Crane and the Chuck Norris raised on American Boxing.

In short, there can be no satisfactory answer... right?

Perhaps this will help. In the conversation happening today, the students were being careless. As is not normally the case, my Sifu (read teacher) was within ear shot of the debate. He interjected, giving his opinion on the subject that I found particularly wise.

He said there is no such thing as an art that is fundamentally bad. There are bad teachers and bad students, but every style has something unique and powerful to offer. The quality of a student is determined by his or her own abilities and dedication to learn, the ability and level of understanding of the teacher, and the relationship between master and pupil. There is no one style that will be best for everyone, certain arts are meant for people of a particular body type or personal affinity. Finally, it is good to learn more than a single art, in fact, that is how many great styles originated; it is both foolish and limiting to be closed mined in these matters.

Certainly this will not be good enough for some people, as it implies a degree of maturity and patience which is unpleasant to many. For me, it is a more fulfilling answer than any number of Chuck Norris clones could provide.