In the grand theater of martial arts, where fists serve as discourse and rank as currency, we find ourselves entangled in a fundamental contradiction—the question of mastery, legitimacy, and the social construct of rank itself. The matter at hand is not merely whether one may bear the title of 10th Dan in Isshinryu, but whether such a title represents the authentic continuation of martial tradition or the degenerative spectacle of ego and fraud.

One side argues that rank, particularly the 10th Dan, is a recognition of mastery, an accolade bestowed upon those who have not merely refined technique but have contributed to the living tradition of the art. The other side protests, declaring rank a hollow fabrication, a symptom of corruption, an indulgence for those who would rather crown themselves than embody the art in its truest form. This schism reflects a deeper struggle: the tension between structure and spontaneity, between tradition as an evolving force and tradition as a fossilized dogma.

The Myth of the Singular Master: A False Consciousness

It has been posited that “ONLY ONE” may bear the rank of 10th Dan, as if martial knowledge were the sacred property of a single sovereign, the divine right of a sole ruler. But this premise collapses under the weight of history. The very essence of martial arts is transmission, a process of communal refinement where no single hand can contain the totality of a system. If we accept the proposition that only one can hold mastery, we must conclude that all others are, by necessity, servants or pretenders—an absurdity when we consider that every master was once a student, and every student holds the potential of mastery.

Even in the annals of history, we find that martial traditions have always proliferated into multiple schools, each led by individuals whose contributions have augmented rather than diminished the original art. Isshinryu itself, after the passing of Tatsuo Shimabuku, saw the rise of various branches, each interpreting the founder’s teachings through its own dialectic. Are these not acts of continuity rather than corruption?

The Fallacy of Fraud: Rank and the Will to Power

To claim that high rank is inherently fraudulent is to make the classic error of conflating the concept with its worst practitioners. If fraud exists, it is not a consequence of rank itself, but of the individuals who seek titles without the corresponding substance. Yet, this critique is not exclusive to high-ranking practitioners—deception exists at all levels. Shall we then abandon all forms of recognition, lest a few corrupt the system? This logic is nihilistic in its most impotent form, an argument against structure itself, rather than against those who abuse it.

Here, we glimpse the shadow of ressentiment—a bitter rejection of rank, not out of purity, but out of an unwillingness to engage in the power struggle that all mastery demands. One who rejects rank as "ego-driven" often does so not from an enlightened transcendence but from a refusal to engage in the dialectic of recognition itself. In rejecting all rank, they paradoxically enthrone themselves as the arbiters of authenticity, the gatekeepers of purity. What, then, is more egotistical: the acceptance of rank as a system of recognition, or the rejection of all rank as a claim to personal superiority?

The Illusion of Purity and the Tyranny of Stagnation

To declare that "we wear only plain black belts" as a mark of authenticity is, at its core, another form of aristocratic distinction—a quiet boast that one's tradition is untainted by the supposed corruption of hierarchical rank. But this is a false asceticism, an attempt to suggest that purity lies in rejection rather than engagement. Such an approach is not the absence of ego, but the manifestation of ego in its most veiled form: the belief that one’s rejection of recognition is, a superior stance.

I scoff at such an attitude as the morality of the weak, an unwillingness to affirm the creative struggle of hierarchy. I critique it as an idealist delusion, a refusal to acknowledge the material reality that structure and recognition shape human endeavors.

A Conclusion in Combat: The Triumph of Reality Over Ideology

Rank is not the enemy of martial arts; stagnation is. If Isshinryu is to thrive, it must be driven by those who both master and evolve its teachings. Those who receive the title of 10th Dan do not seize it as a tyrant claims a throne but are raised to it by the necessity of continuity—by the labor of their contributions, the dialectic of their teachings, and the recognition of their peers.

If rank were meaningless, history would not remember the names of those who have shaped martial arts into the traditions we follow today. If rank were purely an ego-driven illusion, then we must ask: Why do we remember the founders? Why do we honor their ranks? Why do we seek lineage at all?

The truth is this: Rank is neither sacred nor fraudulent, it is merely a vessel. It is the individual who determines its worth.