By accident, I came across this book while exploring social media. With a title that includes “You’re Doing It Wrong!” was bound to promote a reaction. It did, and I wanted to find out what Prince Gharios had to say about the current state of aikido and how to pull the art from the brink of endangerment. While many aikidoka, both current and former, have issued their opinions on what is truly ailing aikido, Prince Gharios echoes many of the same talking points, perhaps emphasizing that these problems are even more magnified in a post-covid world. What already makes this work different is that Prince Gharios takes the time to offer multiple avenues to attempt to fix – or mitigate – the faults within the art. What follows is essentially a response to the problems he uncovers and the solutions he brings to the table.
One thing to note before continuing, Prince Gharios’ background is in Ki Society, Aikikai, and Tenshin Aikido, with Steven Seagal being the foundational pillar of influence on Prince Gharios’ aikido training and martial inquiry. With this upbringing in mind, the way he phrases these aikido dilemmas seem to be focused more on mainstream aikido than what would be considered “fringe” aikido, much akin to the now-returned Lenny Sly of Rogue Warriors TV, regardless, there is still merit, however, in the proceeding topics Prince Gharios discusses.
Topically, Prince Gharios separates his book into three themes: diagnosis, symptoms, and solutions. The diagnosis opens with the outline of aikido’s crisis, or the fact that it was in a state of crisis in 2020, before the onset of the Covid-19 Pandemic. Now living in a post-pandemic world, such events have amplified this crisis into a catastrophe, as he points out. Prince Gharios describes the situation with the closing of schools worldwide, the art’s aging population without drawing younger members, and its refusal to modernize in the face of other martial arts and combat sports.
Prince Gharios then categorizes his symptoms into three main themes: training, philosophical and spiritual, and political.
Training
The training theme consumes most of the chapters in his book, ranging from compliant uke, watered down teachings, and choreographed movements to unrealistic ukemi, fantasy-based randori, and practicing theater. It seems daunting to address all of these aspects, however, many of them overlap with one another. For one, Prince Gharios places the catalyst for these training issues in the postwar years with the Aikikai in making aikido something that was not like the original – something that was divorced from Morihei Ueshiba’s aikido. This aikido appealed to the masses, not the few, and lacked a heightened sense of martialness and spiritualness.
From this change in focus, uke became more compliant, where the uke takes their ukemi before the balance has been broken. With training becoming safer, uke attacks became slower, leading to what Prince Gharios dubs a “Fantasy Randori,” where an unscripted freestyle practice has to remain visually appealing, no matter how chaotic it becomes. All of these modifications led to what is currently plaguing aikido, Prince Gharios feels. Aikidoka now practice theater because safety is a huge issue and any deviation from the curriculum is looked down upon. Aikido started selling
serenity, not survival.
Philosophical and Spiritual Teachings
To Prince Gharios, the philosophical and spiritual teachings of aikido are hollow, as most practitioners do not fully understand how they interact with the physical and martial practice. As a result, such excerpts are excuses for poor techniques and untested dogma. Such common usage creates training that is a ritual without reason, essentially repeating the training of previous teacher’s movement for movement without understanding them fully. Or movement for movement’s sake. Moreover, appealing to the founder, i.e., “The founder did this in his lifetime, therefore we must continue to do this,” is a face of intellectual laziness. Prince Gharios argues that Morihei was never consistent, asking if the founder would cease his own training if something new came along in the martial arts world.
Politics
The final symptom that Prince Gharios covers is the politics within aikido, mainly the internal politics within any given organization or within the larger art itself. Here, Prince Gharios asserts that using tradition as an explanation to why certain actions are done leads to stagnation in which the curriculum is a set piece that cannot be altered or built upon. In a way, students would be training for a test rather than training for themselves or for the knowledge they want to acquire. Such attitudes prime practitioners into choreographed training. Prince Gharios links this stagnation to instructors awarding rank based on time spent in the art and loyalty to a teacher or organization, which trickles down to students. Jumble all of these aspects together and one has the source for the internal fighting within organizations and between different styles, causing a disunified art and animosity between practitioners who do not know each other.
Catalyst
These symptoms and problems did not appear out of thin air, rather, they have been a culmination of years trying to ensure the art was viable for the general public. Because of this, Prince Gharios explains, aikido was unprepared for what he calls the tipping point for the rise and reign of mixed martial arts. He describes mixed martial arts as “the pinnacle of timing, pressure, adaptation, and resilience.” Aikido cannot stack up against the mixed martial arts movement because it has not created an incentive to ensure that the techniques and principles work. For this reason, aikido fails to evolve and address the growing needs within the martial arts community.
Solutions
In the face of this tipping point and the detailed symptoms above, Prince Gharios presents his proposed treatments in an effort to reclaim the “trueness of aikido.” Firstly, he suggests reintroducing atemi into daily training, though he does not differentiate between hitting uke with atemi or stopping before nage hits uke. On the subject of strikes, Prince Gharios wants progressive and realistic attacks from uke. That means uke is a part of the training and is constantly aware of what they need to do to fulfill their role in the training hall. Moreover, regarding uke, they should take ukemi only when necessary or when their balance is broken. That being said, Prince Gharios asserts that there needs to be progressive resistance within uke, so that uke may resist nage at the proper times to incrementally challenge nage.
Randori plays a crucial role in Prince Gharios’ treatment. To him, the unpredictability and the unscripted nature of randori teaches nage many things about themselves under pressure and the level of their skills. This randori environment is supposed to refine the practitioner and teach calmness in the midst of chaos. Much of this aspect Prince Gharios takes from his observations of mixed martial arts, where he stresses that mixed martial arts represent a new way to approach training; that is, to train with intensity, embrace unpredictability, value simplicity under pressure, and respect timing more than tradition.
Conversely, Prince Gharios suggests focusing on the inner aspects of aikido by reintroducing breathwork, practicing silence before and after (meditation), reflection, reconnecting with weapons, and teaching ki through structure and timing
Lastly, on a broader point with politics, he recommends encouraging open dialogue between different organizations and styles, promoting cross training in different martial arts, and creating safe spaces to accomplish both. Moreover, teachers and organizations should reward innovation, normalize humility in themselves, and admit that they do not have all the answers. These pieces of advice, to Prince Gharios’ point, is to ensure a more honest environment where egos are not ruling the decision-making process.
Conclusion
As it stands today, aikido finds itself at a crossroads, unsure or unwilling to take meaningful steps towards reform from within its ranks. While in an effort to return to pre-pandemic norms, many have chosen to remain silent and have quietly swept the creeping issues under the carpet to carry on with training and move forward. However, such avoidance can blind practitioners to the realities of the multitude of difficulties the art now faces. Yet, with all its critics and assumed shortcomings, aikido can still hold great value to both martial artists and the average person seeking a path; such truths found in a personal journey of realization do not need validation from a combat effectiveness perspective, these relate more to an inner awareness and finding purpose. But in order to maintain and entice a newer and younger generation to find their way to the art of aikido, a degree of effectiveness must be demonstrated on some level or, at the very least, agreed upon by the larger aikido community in an effort to compete with other forms. A sense of modernization would need to occur to perhaps ensure that aikido does not wither away and disappear.
Against this backdrop, Prince Gharios provides a possible voice for ideas and thoughts that perhaps many aikidoka have uttered in hushed tones behind closed doors. Within that voice, Prince Gharios also offers several examples of what he believes a modern aikido approach should resemble including his ideas implemented into regular classes. After getting past the title, many aikidoka might consider taking a look and be open to finding something positive within the pages of Prince Gharios’ book simply for the sake of the future of aikido.
Martial Arts of Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow 
While Prince Gharios raises several insightful points about Aikido’s direction, his proposed solutions overlook a deeper reality: it isn’t only Aikido that has been in decline, but traditional martial arts as a whole. For several decades now, most of these arts – Karate, Judo, Taekwondo, and yes, Aikido – have survived primarily as children’s after-school programs. Their adult populations have steadily dwindled. The days when a dojo was a community hub for adult seekers, fighters, and philosophers are mostly gone.
Some suggest that Aikido should revive itself by becoming more self-defense oriented by making the art “practical” again. But that solution doesn’t reflect today’s reality. The adult self-defense market has largely moved on. Modern adults who want self-protection skills tend to choose non-martial-art programs, short courses, e.g., Krav Maga, or focused self-defense courses, that are stripped of uniforms, belts, and rituals. These programs promise immediate, transferable results without the long, hierarchical commitment traditional martial arts require.Even if Aikido transformed itself into a more combative system, it would still be competing in a marketplace that no longer values that model. Becoming a “different kind of self-defense art” doesn’t solve the problem; it only changes the wrapping.
If Aikido is to remain relevant, it must differentiate itself, not imitate others. Its renewal will not come from fighting harder or training rougher, but from embracing its true spiritual core: the one its founder glimpsed but never fully realized. Aikido’s deepest roots lie not in jujutsu or swordsmanship, but in the spiritual vision of Onisaburo Deguchi of the Oomoto-kyō movement. Deguchi believed that martial practice could serve as a path to spiritual transformation and universal harmony. Morihei Ueshiba, profoundly influenced by Deguchi, weas unable to shape Aikido as a physical expression of that ideal. Yet somewhere along the way, the art became trapped between its martial form and its spiritual promise — never fully one or the other.
Aikido’s relevance in the 21st Century depends on completing that unfinished work. The art should no longer try to “prove” itself in combat, but instead embody spirituality through movement: a living practice of connection, both physical and transcendent. This does not mean Aikido must become religious, or remain confined to Japanese symbolism. Spirituality today can be universal, experiential, and inclusive.
Aikido’s rebirth, therefore, lies not in trying to compete with other martial arts, but in becoming a living spiritual art: one that helps practitioners reconnect with themselves, find harmony with others and their environment, and experience something greater than themselves through physical practice that is both disciplined and transformative.
On the mat, every movement becomes more than a technique; it is a meditation in motion, a way of aligning body, mind, and spirit. The blending, the timing, the subtle exchange of balance and intent: all serve as gateways to deeper awareness. Through repetitive practice, practitioners begin to feel the rhythm of their own energy and that of their partner, discovering presence and connection in each encounter.
In this sense, Aikido’s physical training transcends mere mechanics or self-defense drills. It becomes a form of embodied spirituality: a means to cultivate sensitivity, empathy, and peace through movement. Each throw, each fall, each act of centering becomes a dialogue between the inner and outer worlds, between the individual and the universal. Through this kind of practice, Aikido can once again become what Deguchi envisioned – a means of awakening the self – if it accepts that this, not fighting, is its truest purpose.
Aikido’s challenge is not about restoring fighting credibility. It is about rediscovering meaning. The future of Aikido will belong not to those who repackage it as self-defense, but to those who dare to reimagine it as a spiritual art for modern times: an embodied path toward inner peace, harmony, and transcendence. Only by embracing that vision can Aikido once again become a living, evolving expression of the harmony it teaches and thus, appeal to a new audience.
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