But for Stephen K. Hayes, founder of To-Shin Do, conflict avoidance, compassionately taking care of others and the pursuit of truth is the essence of martial arts.Hayes, described by Black Belt magazine as one of the 10 most influential living martial artists in the world today, was trained in Japan by 34th generation headmaster of the Togakure ninja tradition in the 1970s. After 30 years of training, he was awarded the judan (tenth degree black belt) from his teacher. 

In 1986 he met His Holiness the Dalai Lama of Tibet, and through the 1990s he traveled with the Dalai Lama as personal security escort during many of the Nobel Peace Prize laureate’s North American visits. 

In the mid-1990s, Hayes along with his Japanese wife Rumiko, founded the practice of To-Shin Do as a modern self-protection, self perfection martial art based on his experience of the Japanese ninja martial arts and the Asian Buddhist spiritual traditions.
Dedicated to promoting the benefits of martial arts training for self-development, Hayes travels the world as teacher, seminar leader, writer, and lecturer, inspiring others by translating his extensive background in martial arts and meditation into practical lessons for handling the pressures, uncertainties, and stresses of life. Hayes’ personal school – SKH Quest To-Shin Do Central Training Headquarters – is located in Dayton, Ohio.

Hayes has also worked as an actor, most notably in the TV miniseries Shogun, and is the author of more than 15 books. Here, he talks with Nexus publisher Ravi Dykema about spiritual intelligence, global peace, and the personal pursuit of a deeper truth.

RD: How did you first become involved in martial arts?

SH: As a little kid, I remember seeing some examples of martial arts on television shows; I was riveted. But in the cities of my childhood--Wilmington, Delaware, and Dayton, Ohio—there were no opportunities to study martial arts. But when I went to Miami University in Oxford, Ohio, I started studying karate from Navy officers who were assigned to my university during the Vietnam war. I was considered to be pretty whacky. I wasn’t in the Navy, and I did one of the best selling jobs of my life in persuading these Navy guys to allow this bearded guy in the ‘60s to come in and train with them.

It was important to me. I was this little kid who grew up with a sense of wanting there to be peace. Other little kids my age would resort to humiliation or hitting or shoving to get their way or to get attention; there was a lot of bullying, and I would always be the one to try to make peace.

I remember wanting some kind of efficient method, some technology, for making peace and resolving conflict, when others wanted violence and revenge. It took me years to finally get into the technology of martial arts, of karate.

After my training with the Navy guys I was trained by accomplished, sport-karate champions. Maybe because of the people I was around I began to notice a change in myself. I was moving away from the idea of being the protector, and had started to move toward the idea that maybe people needed to be straightened out, or punished.

That motivated me to seek a different kind of teacher, which led me to Japan in the mid-‘70s.

RD: Do you remember the first conflict in which you thought something like “That would have turned out differently if I hadn’t studied martial arts?”

SH: I remember the first time I realized I had the capability of knocking somebody down, leaving them with no idea what had hit them. It was almost comical. I was maybe three years into my studies, still in college. I was out on a Friday night in a college town, just having a good time. Some friends and I were sitting at a table, and this guy wanted to sit on the end of the table and watch the band. It wasn’t about having the best seat to see the band; he was knocking drinks over, posing, making remarks to the girls we were with—kind of a typical, almost primitive animal biology kind of a thing.

It became clear that this guy was looking for somebody who might be a good victim. This kind of a bully isn’t looking for a fight; he’s looking for an opportunity to administer some form of superiority. It’s more common in bars, or where alcohol is involved, but sometimes you meet verbal or psychological bullies in an office or work environment.

RD: How did you respond?

SH: We didn’t respond. I just grinned at this guy and looked over at the guys at my table; the girls were kind of rolling their eyes and looking away. After a while, this guy felt silly, so he called us some kind of a name and strutted away. Here’s the point: this guy was not a college guy; he was somebody who resented the college people who were there. I knew if I had tried to stand up and engage with him, he and his buddies would have started a fist fight.

I knew if it came down to that, I would have him on his rear end very quickly. Because I knew that, I didn’t feel threatened. If I hadn’t felt so confident, I might have engaged: “You can’t talk to us that way” or “Hey, look, pal, I’m not looking for any trouble” or some statement that indicates to a bully that I’m a good victim.

RD: It seems our civilization is fascinated by the good guy/bad guy archetype, and the idea of evil that is avenged. These are the major themes of novels, films and TV shows. And this theme is being acted out on the world stage. There’s one giant guy who has weapons, skills and training, and a whole lot of much smaller guys who have fewer of all those tools. The big guy is saying “If we don’t like you; we will take you out.” Obviously, it’s much more complicated. And, yet, the basic concept is the same. It’s like the guy sitting on the end of the table, saying “You’ve got to let me sit here, because that will show you that I’m the cooler guy.” What do you think we need to do as a nation to get a different response from the rest of the world?

SH: Wow, this is interesting. It’s not something I usually address; I work more with the individual in their community.
I think there are several things to take into consideration. First, there’s only one big guy with the most thumping power. So, of course, that causes the little guys to have to counteract the advantages that the big guy has, because they’re never going to be able to meet the big guy on the battlefield as an equal. Us being big and gnarly and snarly almost guarantees they’re going to do something other than meet us on the battlefield, so we’d better be smart enough to recognize that.

This same scenario shows up in our martial arts practice, even in our daily lives. If the dominant order I find myself living in--as a person or a community or a nation or a culture--does not support or protect my interests, I will seek to become the dominant in whatever way I can. I think this is a basic nature of human beings.

RD: A survival instinct, perhaps. As a person in a primitive tribe, you’d seek any advantage you could.

SH: Exactly. Now, back to the analogy of the big guy. If there’s some guy strutting around with a body-builder physique, I may be looking at him thinking “Oh, jiminy, it would be hard to beat that guy in an alpha male contest.” But then I see my girlfriend looking at him, and I have a natural tendency to want to knock that big guy down. It’s just kind of the species thing.

In a primitive world, you shoot a guy like that. You can’t outwrestle him. You can’t outrun him. You can’t outfight him. As a culture, as a nation, I think maybe that’s where we’re at.

The sheer act of being strong and powerful creates resistance and animosity among other countries and cultures. Here’s something to think about: how could we tone down our presence without foolishly giving away whatever may work to protect us?
Here’s another consideration; this is a very dangerous slope, and I’m barely qualified to comment on it. Lord Acton, an English historian, said “Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” We’ve all heard that statement; but is it true? Or is it possible that we could have absolute power and absolute love at the same time?

Once upon a time in my home, I had absolute power over my children, and I absolutely loved them. Sometimes they cried. Sometimes they got mad at me. I hurt them; I had them experience stabs of metal in their skin as they were inoculated against polio, and set up boundaries they didn’t like. I think my absolute power over my children was absolute love.

Is it possible that the same thing could work on a larger level, that there could be a benevolent situation where somebody who knows a lot more and understands a lot more can take care of other people? It’s something to think about.

So if I’m the big guy with all the weapons and protective power and the ability to put an aircraft carrier into somebody else’s water, I can do one of a couple of things, and it’s up to me. Number one, I could send in food and water, and save the lives of thousands of people who are devastated in a tidal wave; American aircraft carriers did that. Or I can have airplanes take off from the carrier deck and bomb people.

RD: So you’re saying a powerful nation might consider wielding its force to help smaller nations in time of crises?

SH: Maybe, but you have to be very careful. If we show up with our aircraft carriers, and we’ve got generators to give them power and desalinization processes for their water, lots of food, and babies are living and people are eating, we’re going to look like gods, aren’t we?

That could also create resentment, though. Those cultures could feel invaded by our political system or religion, or feel inferior because they can’t provide for their young ones in the same way these god-like beings on the aircraft carrier can. The question becomes, how do we assist in a way that doesn’t threaten others? Another consideration: when we start “helping” by using any kind of aggression for what we perceive to be the benefit of a weaker nation or culture, or by promoting our ideology, it’s a slippery slope.

In martial arts training, we want to avoid the approach of aggressive intervention, of saying “I’m going to have to physically intervene to save somebody else from a bully.” Is there some dialogue we can use instead? Can we see things from this bully’s point of view? What would that look like?

Let’s say Kid A is a bully, and he’s trying to pick a fight with Kid B. I’m Kid C, and I see this going on. Well, Kid B is my friend. He’s getting picked on by bully Kid A and his friends there. Maybe I say “Whoa, come on you guys. We’re all going to get expelled, and we can’t afford to do that.” I’ve created a dialogue, rather than bullying back or taking the stance of “I’m Superman; I’m going to get in there and right all the wrongs and be the avenger.”

RD: And doesn’t some of this depend on your point of view? If you’re the one being helped by the avenging, the person helping would look more like a hero.

SH: Yes. Here’s an example: 200 years ago, we had American farmers sneaking around behind their barns with squirrel guns, shooting at the honorable red-coated British army. They were pretty aggressive, those farmers, and they doubtlessly broke a lot of the rules of honorable warfare. The way history went, though, they ended up regarded as the founding fathers of the cradle of American democracy. They were remembered as the good guys, the heroes. But if an English family got the body of their son or their father back in a coffin because he was killed in the colonies, Americans weren’t heroes; they were terrorists. So is there such a thing as a hero that all will honor, regardless of sides in the battle?

RD: What about our current political situations, ones in which we’re in foreign countries as either guards, peacekeepers or protectors?

SH: I think if we go into a country as big guys helping smaller powers, we need to understand their perception, and consider if there’s anything we can do to show respect for that country. I have a friend who’s working with the Marine Corps. He says when the Marines or any other divisions of the military are in a foreign land for the purpose of maintaining peace or “helping” in some way it’s important to extend respect. It’s important to coach soldiers and other military in the ways of local customs and traditions. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but subtle things make a difference; eye contact, or a gesture, or the way people walk by a certain building in a town, can imply a sense of superiority or contempt. We never want to be perceived as looking down on other cultures or religions; it’s not an appropriate use of our power, and we have to be mindful of showing respect.

RD: What does that look like in a martial arts school?

SH: First of all, you never, ever put down somebody else’s martial art. Let’s say somebody comes to me and says “I was studying tic-tac-toe, and we did these helicopter wheely kicks.” We don’t actually believe in that as an effective self-defense method, but we’re never going to say that. We’re going to say, “Oh, yeah, I saw some stuff that was amazing. One of those guys jumped off a chair and did this helicopter kick and broke an apple in the air. It was an amazing show!” It may not be a form of martial arts that I think is effective, but I’m not lying when I say it’s certainly impressive to watch wheely kicks. We always show great respect for other forms of martial arts.

This leads into the concept of self-knowledge and self-awareness, of mindfulness of our actions. Do we see how we are making an impact on other people? You can say, “I was just trying to help,” but you have to look at the outcome. Based on the results you’re getting, are you really helping? You can say, “Well, they should have appreciated me.” Great, but based on the results that you’re seeing, do they appreciate you? “Well they’re just too stupid to appreciate.” Well, okay, but would there have been a smarter way for you to deal with those people you call “stupid,” so they could understand why they might appreciate your actions?

RD: It sounds like you have a very spiritual approach to martial arts, benevolence and world peace.

SH: I do. Through my experience with His Holiness the Dalai Lama, and some of the other Buddhist teachers I’ve studied with, I’ve learned about what’s called spiritual intelligence. In any situation, it’s necessary to determine what is really true. Are we brave enough to let go of our emotional biases, our interpretations of our memories, our stories, and search for deepest truth? When we do this, we approach the real truth in a situation, and that can lead us to spiritual intelligence as opposed to spiritual rationalization or spiritual superstition.

Another important lesson is compassion. Suppose we have spiritual intelligence, but we decide not to interfere with others. We have all this technology, we have food and water and medical supplies that could help people in distress, but we just keep it ourselves. That’s kind of scary.

Our natural tendency, I think, is to share. We want to help others, we want to protect and save them. The key becomes how skillfully we do it. I can show up in a foreign country, humiliate the people there with all my knowledge and show contempt for their religion or way of life; or, I can show up and extend respect.

In our martial art, we give people physical lessons on how you work with resistance and conventional, aggressive thinking that produces conventionally aggressive movements. If you know this ahead of time, you’ll be able to put yourself in a position to take better control.

And it’s fun; there’s a lot of laughter. So much of this training is very natural, but we’ve just forgotten it and made it more complicated than it is. We’ll tell students “Suppose there’s a hand on my neck and it’s squeezing the life out of my breathing tube.” We make it all sound really complicated, and then I demonstrate a move where if I just turn sideways, there’s no way even the strongest person can keep his hands on me. That’s all I have to do. When people see that, they burst out laughing, because it just looks so simple, it’s ridiculous. People think it has to be complicated; you’d have to hit your attacker, distract him, get him in a lock. Well, no, you just turn; it’s that easy.

Now I’m a little guy teaching martial arts, but if I were the President of the United States, I think it would be neat to at least look at that angle. How can we get back to more simplistic things?

Here’s an interesting thought: let’s say the president, with all the might and money of the position, was also spiritually intelligent; would the people allow that to happen?

RD: What do you call your attacker in your martial art practice? In this country, we call adversaries “the enemy,” a term which seems arbitrary and vague, since it’s used to refer to people who aren’t attacking us directly. Our “enemies” one day may be our allies the next. Do you use that term in your practice?

SH: I purposely avoid using the term “the enemy.” I sometimes use “the aggressor,” since it’s descriptive of an action, one who’s extending aggression. Other terms like “enemy” or “bad guy” are more descriptive of our perceived negative relationship with them, rather than their actions. What we call “the bad guy” might, in other scenarios be a hero--like the example I used earlier of American rebels who became the founding fathers.

What does the term “the enemy” really mean? I think in our cases, enemies are people who seem to oppose our best interests—from cutting off oil supplies or food, to actually killing us. The enemy becomes the one we are fighting. In martial arts, we are very careful about our use of the term “enemy.” The motivations behind our actions are what is key. For example, let’s say I see someone who appears to be aggressive, and he’s carrying a knife in his pocket. He’s talking to my friend in an animated way that appears to be getting hostile. Suddenly, he leaps up in a threatening and assertive way, and starts to reach for his pocket.

What am I to do? Well, it looks like he’s going to attack my friend with a knife, and I can’t have that. It’s happening quickly, too quickly to talk or negotiate, so I grab his arm to stop him. Who’s the aggressor now? From one point of view, the guy just stood up in a threatening way; he didn’t do any harm yet. I’m the one who grabbed his arm, maybe hard, maybe in an aggressive way, to stop what I thought would be a violent action. Does that make me the aggressor? Or does it make me a hero?

RD: But what about the guy with the pocket knife, the one who’s getting ready to be aggressive? Why would he take the risk of getting himself into a situation where he could be killed, too, or sent to jail for life for a murder? It seems to me that he may not have a lot to lose.

SH: That’s a great point, and I think it’s a key to understanding some of the actions going on in the world today. If someone doesn’t have anything going for him in his life, if all he experiences is frustration and anger and the perception that others who do not care about him have power over him, he may be willing to give up his life just to strike back at that perceived oppressor. He knows he cannot win, but in his trapped mind, he sees his own death as a way to make his oppressor suffer even a little bit as a form of victory to him. But if a man lives in a society where he has plenty of food and water, a loving family, a safe and comfortable home, adequate medical care, a job that’s meaningful so he feels like he’s contributing to society, he has a lot to lose. He has a lot of good things that could disappear if he were to risk doing dangerous things. I think it would be hard to convince a guy like that to get on an airplane and go somewhere far away from home to kill someone he doesn’t even know. There’s no reason for him to strap a bomb on his body and embark on a kamikaze mission, and plenty of reasons not to.

There’s an ancient Japanese invocation for world peace that we use in our To-Shin Do training halls: In ancient cryptic words, it states that if everybody were as comfortable, happy and fulfilled as possible, it would be hard to get those people to start a war. Part of our peacemaking tactic is to teach others how to find and sustain a fulfilling life. If we can bring the keys to generating personal peace and fulfillment to everybody, overseas and in our own country, we’ll create a more peaceful world. Some people are creating peace and fulfillment through health restoration, yoga, higher education, diplomacy. My way of encouraging peace in the world is through the martial arts. That’s my story, and I’m stickin’ to it.