What Martial Arts Can Teach Us About Conflict Resolution
When most of us encounter a conflict, we either avoid it or escalate it. Neither approach is very productive. The former will probably result in a reputation as a pushover, while the latter tends to magnify tensions, potentially creating more conflict down the line.
What if there were another way? In Japanese martial arts, the concept of kuzushi, or disrupting the root or balance of the opponent, is well known. If you watch a match between two masters, you’ll see how effortless it looks when someone gets thrown. It doesn’t seem like anything dramatic has happened, and suddenly, they’re down.
For these masters, the secret to victory is understanding what unbalances their opponents, and the only way to gain this understanding is by staying connected to them. They move with their opponents and are able to sense where they are moving -- sometimes even before the opponents themselves do. Having established a close connection, they can change their actions at precisely the right moment, in exactly the right way, to throw them off balance.
Fixing a Tent, by Focusing on a Story
The approach described above isn’t only for martial arts masters. It can be useful in a host of situations. Some years ago, I led a backpacking trip in rural Tibet. With a group of twenty people, I traveled to a renowned monastery located in one of the most isolated places in the world, roughly five days drive from the nearest city. We were fortunate enough to have a crew of sherpas with us who assisted in various things, such as setting up tents.
Our party varied in hiking and climbing experience. Many were practiced outdoors people, but two of our backpackers, a couple from the East coast, were fairly new to backpacking and camping, and they were very uncomfortable in rural settings. It seemed to me they complained about every little thing—when people are uncomfortable, they may focus on the smallest things to release their anxious energy. They were especially upset when their tent zipper got stuck. The crew had pulled their tent a little too tight when setting it up, causing the zipper to stick—no big deal—but these two kept worrying about their “broken” zipper. When I looked at it, I didn’t see anything broken; it was just tight. I tried explaining that to them, but they couldn’t see anything but a broken zipper.
One morning, in an effort to shift their story, I pointed out a tiny village in the far distance, consisting of twelve small wooden houses on a hill. I told the couple that a tent repair person lived there, and that we would take their tent to them to be fixed once and for all. Without the couple knowing, I asked our sherpas to take down the tent, leave it flat, then simply put it back up when we were out of sight.
That was exactly what they did. When we returned, the couple tried out their tent and were amazed that the zipper “worked.” It wasn’t broken after all! I was glad the small amount of effort we put forth made them feel more comfortable and the trip was much more pleasant after the tent “repair.”
What lessons can we learn from this situation? It was clear to me that the couple weren’t open to altering their story. In their minds, the tent zipper was broken, and no amount of persuasion could convince them otherwise. I could have confronted them directly and perhaps escalated the conflict into something truly unpleasant, which everyone on the trip would have had to live with—there was no escaping from one another in the midst of rural Tibet. Instead, I chose to address their frustrations as effectively as possible within the confines of their story.
Although little could actually be done to “fix” their situation, the small amount of effort we made to shift the situation for them made a noticeable difference in their experience throughout the rest of the trip—and to ours.
Move with, Not Against
The key distinction here is that the way to find a real resolution to conflict is to move with others, not against them. It’s tempting to attack first, rather than connect. We may try to overpower the person, or situation, with our sheer strength, verbal or physical. But if we connect deeply, possibilities open up, and the tide can begin to shift.
Nonetheless, it should be noted that even if it’s possible to help someone shift in the moment, it’s difficult to influence someone else’s story permanently—ultimately, this process needs to happen on their end. While I don’t necessarily believe this couple see the world in a more positive light after our trip, the strategy was useful in the short term.
By allowing their story to permeate my map of reality and responding to it in the most resourceful way I could, I was able both to “defeat” the problem and provide a more positive environment for everyone on the trip.
The next time you find yourself tempted to attack someone else’s, stop and first ask yourself what story is driving their behavior. Understand the world from their perspective and you’ll be far better placed both to help them and to influence them.
