Could Gamification Solve the Problem of People Quitting Jiu Jitsu?

The jiu jitsu world suffers from a serious problem - the vast majority of the people who start the sport quit rather early. It's been said that 90% of all people who start will fail to earn their blue belt, and only about 1% of those folks will stick with the sport long enough to earn a black belt. If those numbers are even close to accurate, that's pretty sad. 

While there are a multitude of legitimate reasons people quit training (kids, work, injuries, etc.), sometimes it just comes down to the simple fact that training jiu jitsu, over time, is really hard. And sometimes the cost of training becomes greater than the rewards we get from training.So really, the attrition issue in jiu jitsu ultimately comes down to an issue of motivation. 

What We Know About Motivation

Generally speaking, motivation comes in two flavors - intrinsic and extrinsic. Extrinsic motivation occurs when we're motivated by something outside us, like someone gives us candy, a paycheck,  or a belt promotion. Intrinsic motivation occurs when we're motivated by something inside us, like the desire to improve, satisfying our curiosity, or playing. 

With extrinsic motivation we do the activity because we either get something good or we avoid something bad. With intrinsic motivation we do the activity for the sake of doing the activity.

In the world of jiu jitsu, most people are motivated by extrinsic motivators, like the aforementioned belt promotions, the medals we win at the local tournament, the envy we receive from others when we wear our fancy gi to class, the feelings of superiority when we tap someone out in class, or the praise we receive from our coaches. 

The problem with extrinsic motivators is sustainability. Interest and motivation always wanes overtime when we're motivated by extrinsic motivators. This is why job satisfaction typically decreases with time - we're doing the job for the paycheck, which is an extrinsic motivator. In jiu jitsu, if you're doing the sport primarily for the extrinsic rewards, you're going to burn out and likely quit.

Conversely, intrinsic motivators do not decrease over time. You can continue an activity for years and years and your interest remains relatively constant. If you're doing jiu jitsu for the intrinsic rewards, you're likely going to continue the sport for the long haul. Indeed, just talk to most black belts. You'll find they didn't stick with the sport for the belt. Or the medals. Or to be perceived as a "badass." Or the accolades. No. They stuck with it because they have a primal love of the actual art. They love jiu jitsu. 

Or, more precisely, their love of jiu jitsu has been stronger than the many costs that arise from training this art of a decade or more.  

Unfortunately, we can't just tell people to love jiu jitsu. Sure, most people who start and don't quit after three classes probably seem to love the sport, but they're in the "honeymoon" phase. Much like two people who fall madly in love for the first few months of dating, they're really just riding a high caused by a cocktail of brain chemicals. I'm not talking about that kind of love. I'm talking about the kind of love that you find endlessly engaging. It's the kind of love that makes you a better person. It's the kind of love that makes us feel comfortable and gives us a sense of belonging and purpose. 

That kind of love doesn't just happen. And it certainly doesn't happen because we utilize best-practices in our teaching of the sport. Given the minuscule percentage of the population that sticks with this sport, it's safe to say those who do stick around survived in spite of the way we teach the sport, not because we're doing something special in our gyms.

Gamification ~ Intrinsic Motivation

The human brain is an amazing organ. There are a myriad of simple "hacks" we can do to dramatically improve our performance. One such hack is known as gamification. Gamification takes any routine, mundane activity and improves it by introducing some element of game mechanics. We basically take boring shit and make it fun by turning it into a game. It's shockingly effective. 

I was first introduced to this idea as a psychology undergrad at my alma mater - Northern Michigan University (Go 'Cats!) I was a T.A. for an intro to psych class, and was hanging out in our T.A. office with a fellow psych student. I think her name was Beth. Anyway, we were sharing stories about our mutual hatred of cleaning despite having a low tolerance for clutter. Beth explained how she made cleaning tolerable by making it into a game. She set a timer for fifteen minutes and would attempt to clean the entire house in that time. She claimed it made cleaning a blast!

I was skeptical, but tried it anyway. I'll be damned it it didn't work! The cleaning wasn't exactly thorough, but it was good enough. More importantly, the timer trick made cleaning... kinda fun.

I've been using this gamification for strength and conditioning workouts for some time. I've even started a group that meets here in Western Colorado (the Western Slope Hobby Joggas) that use this concept. We do tough workouts every Sunday morning at 10am, and implement an element of gamification in each one. The "game" part of the workout helps obscure the fact that we're busting our assess, which helps keep the participants motivated.

[Sidebar - if you like harder workouts, are in the Western Slope area, and hate training in gyms, check out our Hobby Jogga group. It's fun! And free.]

This same idea can be implemented into jiu jitsu training. I've previously written about the importance of "play" in jiu jitsu, and I've also shared a few of the games I like to play in training based on setting limitations. But why stop here? Why not make the entire training experience a game? In the next section, I'll share a framework for an idea I've been working on for a few months.

The Big Idea

We start by defining a time period over which the game will take place. I'll use sixteen weeks for this example. This will give the game long enough to fully develop without dragging on so interest wanes. At the end of this four month cycle, we'll declare a winning team. 

The next step is setting the teams. In this hypothetical scenario, we'll make three teams of ten. Each team will elect a "captain" who is responsible for leading the team. 

Finally, we set up a competitive aspect to the game where each of the three teams is competing. We'll make the scoring simple - teams will earn points for specific tasks. The tasks are set up to reinforce the behaviors that will lead to everyone improving their jiu jitsu games or positively contributing to the gym culture, so points could be earned by doing the following:

• Each team member who comes to class earns two points.
• Each team member who  comes to an open mat earns one point.
• Competing in a tournament earns five points.
• Cleaning the mats before class earns one point.
• Researching and teaching a technique in class earns three points. 

And so on.

The actual points can be awarded for anything that we want to improve. We could also use the system by reducing points for undesirable behavior, but I generally like to keep things positive. Your mileage may vary. 

Other activities can be added to the game. Make a weekly competition. Each team selects two people, and they roll with someone from the other teams in a competitive match. The winning team earns five points towards their team score. This would give students some of the benefits of competing without the commitment required to compete.

Or maybe give each team a task. Let's say this week's technique is an Americana from side control. Introduce the technique on Monday, then have each team research and develop the most effective Americana defense they can. On Saturday, have each team demonstrate what they developed and have the highest belts act as judges. The most innovative (or whatever quality your gym values) earns five points towards their team score.

At the end of the sixteen weeks, hold a banquet and give the winning team a trivial prize. Maybe put their names on a plaque and hand it in the gym. 

After one cycle, the teams could be disbanded and reformed randomly or deliberately (to assure they're fair) and the cycle could be repeated. If ideas like cooperative interdependence are incorporated in this system, this could provide an opportunity for strong bonding among teammates. The teams themselves could be used to advance some of the more difficult goals we try to teach in our classes. 

For example, the same teams could be used for cycle after cycle. Each team would be given a particular identity based on a prevailing "style." The members of the team would incorporate that "style" into their game as long as they were part of that team. Let's say we have Rhinos, Cougars, and Vipers. 

The Rhinos are known for their relentless smashing pressure game. They're calm, persistent, and grinding. Their methodical approach is meant to mitigate faster, more athletic opponents.

The Cougars are smooth, sneaky, and deadly-playful. They use lots of movement and misdirection to constantly play with their opponent's balance and body position. Like a cat batting around a mouse, they continually set clever traps to lazily "toy" with their opponents.

The Vipers are aggressive and deadly. They combine relentless focused attacks with evasiveness and speed. Their frenetic, offensive approach assures matches end quickly and decisively.

Over the span of several cycles, our students will be exposed to three radically different styles of jiu jitsu, which normally only happens if they switch gyms. For most, this would be a powerful learning opportunity. Minimally, it would be fun to "try on" different jiu jitsu personalities to get a slightly different perspective on the art. 

Conclusion

These are just a few ways jiu jitsu training could be gamified. The attrition issue is a real problem in this sport,and the solution could be as simple as making training more fun. One of the best ways to do this is by embracing intrinsic motivation and turning training into a game.

What do you think? Could this idea work? Would you like to see your gym try something like this? Leave a comment!

~Jason

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The Eight Points of Attack: A Conceptual Framework for Jiu Jitsu

A few years back, I had a bit of a crisis in jiu jitsu. I had recently earned my purple belt, and was immersed in learning as much as I possibly could. At the time, that meant learning as many techniques, variations of techniques, and chains of techniques I possibly could. Unfortunately, my brain simply couldn't handle the information overload. My coaches, who were far more experienced than me, could provide what seemed like an infinite level of knowledge, but I could only retain a tiny portion. 

I was feeling pretty good about my game, but I realized I was nearing a big 'ole wall in my development. And not just one of those so-called "walls" marathoners talk about (which isn't a wall so much as the first in a repeating cycle of highs and lows.) This was an actual semi-hard (heh.) limit on my ability to learn, which would invariably limit my ability to progress. I was still learning jiu jitsu like a white or low-level, and it was becoming more and more obvious in how I rolled. 

I needed a different way to think about jiu jitsu.

In psychology terms, I needed a new schema, or way to organize the information was learning. So I "forgot" everything I knew about jiu jitsu and pondered the very nature of the art. It's basically two bodies moving in space with the goal of either breaking a joint or strangulating your opponent. Nothing more. Nothing less. That's when I had my "AH-HA" moment - while there's near-infinite variations and nuances, all legal submissions are really just attacks on eight different points on the human body. Well, a set of arteries in our necks, one big joint (the spine),  and six pairs of smaller  joints. The eight points, then, are:

1. Two carotid arteries in our neck
2. Shoulder joints
3. Elbow joints
4. Wrist joints
5. Hip joints
6. Knee joints
7. Ankle joints
8. The spine

The carotids are simple enough; they carry blood to the brain. Constrict both enough and your opponent loses consciousness. All the other joints fall into a few simplified categories:

• Ball and socket joints (hips and shoulders)
• Hinge joints (elbows, knees, and ankles)
• Condyloid joints (wrists)
• Pivot joints (where our head attaches to our spine)
• Facet joints (the spine itself)

Yeah, yeah, anatomy and physiology folks will note this is *really* simplified, but we don't need "study for the MCATs" level of specificity here. We're only interested in what it takes to *break* these joints. 

Every submission we learn in jiu jitsu (and almost all possible submissions) act on these eight areas. Slicers, asphyxiation (smothering), and pressure point-based submissions are most of the exceptions, and most are rare. 

So I started playing around with this concept. Instead of going for a traditional straight arm bar, I would experiment with attacking the elbow joint (a hinge) from different positions and angles. After playing around with this idea for about a year, my previous schema of jiu jitsu being a giant collection of techniques faded. This old schema was replaced by a much broader-but-simpler schema based on understanding the planes and ranges of motion of these seven joints, along with an understanding of how the carotid arteries work. 

Prior to doing this, my thought process was sort of like a "choose your own adventure" story based on cause and effect. I would initiate a movement, the opponent would respond, then I would access my mental cache of collected techniques, choose the appropriate response, they would respond, and so on. This method was very effective against people who weren't very good OR people who I had trained with a lot (because their game was adequately predictable so I could anticipate their responses.) 

The problem? This is a very slow mental process. With enough repetitions, I would marginally increase the speed of the responses as muscle memory develops, but it still felt like I was a train confined to the rails of the techniques I had previously learned. It was extremely difficult to improvise, create, or even respond to novel situations. I could have continued to advance in the sport, but my development had already slowed to a rather pathetic crawl. And it was getting even slower with time. 

The new "eight points of attack" caused me to regress for a few months mostly because I stopped going to regular classes and learning new techniques. Instead, I just did open mats and rolled. And rolled. And rolled some more. The strategy was pretty basic - get to an advantageous position, secure said position, then attack whatever joint (or carotids) I could from that position using basic physiological principles.

The results have been rather dramatic. While I'm not going to be winning any world championships, my jiu jitsu is objectively better. More importantly (to me, anyway) - this changed how I learn jiu jitsu. Previously, I would memorize techniques in ever-greater detail. And I remembered all the details as discrete points. For example, I had somewhere around thirty details related to a basic triangle. Whenever I would hit one in training, some parts of the triangle were automatic (built through repetition and subsequent muscle memory.) Otherwise, I would run down the list of the points I could remember in order to more effectively execute the submission. 

Now I would simply start with an understanding that I needed to compress both carotid arteries, and I could dynamically make adjustments with little conscious thought. This simplified system was faster and more effective. 

The HUGE benefit, though, came when I started going back to regular classes and learning technique. Instead of memorizing anything and everything my coaches explained, I could focus on the underlying concepts and how it applied to the eight points of attack. Instead of learning a new arm bar to be added to the heap of techniques already in my head, I was learning new, creative ways to exploit that hinge joint of the elbow. It's a subtle but important difference. 

In future posts, I'll discuss these eight points of attack and the mechanisms that make each of the attacks "effective." In other words, HOW do we attack each of these points? I'll also talk about how I started to apply this simplified schema to every aspect of my game, including takedowns, sweeps, escapes, defense, pacing, etc.

Stay tuned!

~Jason

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Learning Jiu Jitsu Games: Embracing Limitations

If you've done jiu jitsu for more than a month or three, you've probably experienced a minor injury. You know, the kind of injury that is annoying and inconvenient, but doesn't necessarily prevent you from training. Maybe you tapped a little too late to that arm bar and popped your elbow. Or maybe you got a finger caught in your training partner's gi. Or perhaps you tweaked your neck on that poorly-executed power double.

Regardless, these kinds of injuries can be a blessing in disguise. Why? Because they force you to train in a new way. Specifically, they cause you to limit the use of the injured body part. More specifically, these injuries require you to compensate in some way, which causes you to adopt different techniques, use different concepts, and employ different strategies. As a result,your game improves.

The good news - you don't have to get hurt to capitalize on this concept!

Back when we trained in San Diego, one of our favorite drills was a "no hands" guard passing drill introduced by one of our gym's black belts, Dave Hisquierdo. The person on the bottom would tuck their hands into their belt and use only their feet and legs to prevent their opponent from passing their guard.

As you'd expect, the top person won pretty much every time. However, the drill would create a fairly dramatic improvement in guard retention ability. You got real good at using your feet and legs to prevent opponents from passing your guard.

WHY this works is fairly obvious - the fewer tools we have at your disposal, the more skillful we need to be for those tools to be effective. As such, systematically "handicapping" ourselves in different ways forces us to develop skills we wouldn't normally develop. Ergo we see dramatic improvements in our game.

So what else can we do besides "no hands guard passing"?

My Games

Whenever I teach classes, I try to add an element of deprivation to most classes. While I usually use the various games randomly, they can be logically combined with related techniques or concepts to improve learning. Here are a few of my favorite games:

• Rolling Blindfolded - We rely on our sense of sight more than any other sense, and this includes when we're rolling. For a sport so dependent on tactiles sensations, balance, pressure, pain, and body position, sight still wins out. When we remove the ability to see, we MUST rely on feel to know where our opponent is and what they're doing. Jiu jitsu, really, is nothing more than learning to precisely apply techniques to resisting opponents automatically. A major part of this learning process in learning to recognize and react to extremely subtle movements from your opponent. Rolling blindfolded helps facilitate that process.
• Wearing Socks on Your Hands - We don't realize how important opposable thumbs are until we don't have them. Grips are a major part of this sport, especially in the gi. Even in no gi, though, our thumbs are useful for locking our hands in various grips. By wearing socks on our hands, we force ourselves to play jiu jitsu without the ability to grip, which means we have to rely on other body parts (and techniques) to control our opponent. Or escape our opponent's control. We can also get a similar effect by wearing 16 ounce boxing gloves when rolling. 
• Tying Your Legs Together - This one's a bit absurd, but still fun. I use a nylon web belt with two d-rings, and just wrap it around my lower shins. This prevents us from separating our legs, which forces us to basically roll as if we were mermaids. Guard, guard passing, mount, and back mount are nearly impossible. This forces us to develop our upper body game in a weird, interesting way. 
• Playing Keep-Away - This is a little more dynamic version of this concept. One person has an item (I prefer a soft foam ball) they must hold, and their goal is to keep it away from their opponent by any means necessary. This shift in perspective from submitting and defending submissions is subtle, but the change forces us to use techniques in a new way.
• Limiting Submission Options - This is a good habit to get into on a regular basis, but also works splendidly as a special game. The idea is to "ban" particular classes of submissions, like chokes, armlocks, or leg locks. This limitation forces a bit more creativity by forcing you to get a little more creative. For an added boost, explicitly tell your training partner which submissions you're banning so they can focus on defending the submissions you have available. 
• Limiting Positional Options - This works the same as the above game, only you're eliminating positions instead of submissions. This is handy when you begin to fall in love with one particular position to the exclusion of others. For me, this is back mount. In every roll, I will always take the back (assuming I CAN take the back against particular opponents.) The strategy is simple - pass guard to side control, pass to mount, attack one arm to wear it out, take the back, trap the opposite arm with my legs (so my opponent is forced to defend with the weakened, tired arm), then choke them out. By banning the back, it forces me to develop entirely different strategies, which helps me develop a more robust game.
• Really Long Rolls - Admittedly, part of my love of really long rolls comes from my ultrarunner past. There's something magical about forcing yourself to the point of absolute exhaustion, then having to muster the will to push past the exhaustion. But it also makes for a good method of speeding your learning of jiu jitsu. Any match over twenty minutes will usually do the trick, but flirting with an hour or more will take you into the really interesting territory. When you're extremely tired, technique suffers, it's hard to concentrate, and small errors in your game get amplified. Experiencing this regularly will cause your game to develop quickly. 
• Rolling on Hard Floors - We spend virtually all of our time training on mats, to the point where we forget the world is not soft and squishy. Froman entirely utilitarian standpoint, doing an occasional roll on hard floors can be a good reminder of the self-defense application of jiu jitsu. But it can also be a handy training game. Rolling occurs in a three-dimensional space where one "side" of that space is predictably soft and forgiving. When that surface becomes less forgiving, it forces us to alter our technique a bit for both ourselves and our training partner's safety. 

These are just a few of the games I like to play when training. There are countless more possibilities; your only limit is your imagination. Got ideas for other limitation-based games? Share them in the comments section or in the El Diablo Facebook Group!

~Jason

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What Does a Black Belt in Jiu Jitsu Really Mean?

Yesterday, I came across this excellent article by BJJ black belt Emily Kwok. It was timely given my last post about enjoying the lower belt experience. If you've read through any of my other writings on the topic (or discussed belt rank with me in person), you know I have mixed feelings about the whole belt rank system. While there are logical utilitarian uses for the system, it creates a host of problems.

One such problem is the disagreement on the meaning of a black belt. As Kwon discussed, what exactly should a black belt mean?

Does it mean the black belt is a good, moral person?

Does it mean they're a role model?

Does it mean they're a leader?

Does it mean they're a mystical badass with some kind of weird superpowers like walking on water or being able to shake exactly two Tylenol out of the bottle every time?

Or are they just jiu jitsu practitioners who, as the saying goes, are just white belts who never bothered giving up?

The longer I do this sport, the more convinced I am the latter explanation is far more accurate than we assume. In every conceivable way. While a back belt can be a good person, role model, leader, or a mystical badass who can breathe soup, they likely possessed those traits prior to stepping on the mat. Jiu jitsu isn't some magical fountain that causes people to grow a sense of morality. It's just a system of fighting based on rolling around on the ground in sweaty pajamas while simulating breaking limbs and murder with a little pomp and circumstance added for flair. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Sure, jiu jitsu can teach some life skills that could feasibly make you a better person (like humility or respect), but one has to be open to learning these lessons. And these lessons can be learned through all kinds of endeavors; jiu jitsu isn't special in this regard. 

The longer I do this sport (and the higher the rank I achieve), the more I realize belt rank really is nothing more than an indicator of an unwillingness to quit jiu jitsu. All the objective techniques, skills, and other "benefits" of higher ranks will eventually appear if you just keep training. While the path to mastery will take some people significantly longer than others, we'll all get there eventually if we stick with it. 

This is part of the reason I don't like using, nor do I recommend using "earn my black belt" as a motivator to keep training. Aside from external motivators being generally ineffective for long-term motivation, it's also just another somewhat arbitrary checkpoint among many arbitrary checkpoints checkpoints on the lifelong journey towards jiu jitsu mastery. There are far more effective goals we can set for ourselves (which will be a topic for another day.)

So how should we perceive any belt rank in general and black belts in particular?

Perceive them as individuals who have been training for however long their rank suggests. Nothing more; nothing less. 

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Don't be in a Hurry to Get Promoted: Enjoy Your Lower Belts

Yup. That's actually me. I like experimenting with stupid looks.

A few days ago, a few of us were sitting around "stretching" before training. A promising teenage white belt asked me if it was cool being a purple belt. I chuckled, then paused. The question was basically akin to one of my freshmen students (I teach high school) asking if it was cool being an adult.

Sure, kinda. I mean, it's sort of nice having that automatic recognition that comes with experience. And buying beer and lottery tickets. Strip clubs are fun. Or so I'm told. 

But it's never the neverending party you think it's going to be... mostly because both being a purple belt and being an adult also comes with a shit-ton of responsibility and expectations. I actually like both responsibility and higher expectations, but you lose a hell of a lot of freedom for that "privilege." 

Actually, being a purp is probably a lot more like being a college kid. While you do have more responsibility and higher expectations than earlier stages, it's also permissible to do a lot of experimentation. Expected, even. 

I distinctly remember being a white belt and looking up to the purps and almost being in awe, not unlike little kids looking up to the big kids. I couldn't wait to get there. So much so, I didn't really savor the white belt experience. 

Or the blue, for that matter. I wanted to get better as fast as I could. I was pacing myself as if I were running a 5k without realizing I was in a race across the continental US. 

Around mid-purp, I started paying more and more attention to higher belts. And I started noticing something I hadn't noticed before. They weren't always having as much fun as I was. Sometimes they looked... stressed. I'm no spring chicken; I've experienced enough life to understand they were dealing with something I had only briefly tasted as a jiu jitsu practitioner but experienced in spades as an adult - responsibility and expectations. 

They had to lead classes. Develop lessons. Manage egos at the gym. Having people depend on you. Worry about keeping student safe. Worry about making sure the gym was clean. Talk to upset parents. Wrangle hyper kids. Constantly fight off younger, more athletic lower belts eager to "tap a brown or black." They're expected to know anything and everything about the sport. Avoid having bad days on the mat. If you own a gym, there's all the headaches of running a business. And so on. 

Damn. 

I didn't see those angles in the earlier days. I just saw them effortlessly kicking ass in the sport I struggled to grasp. Like the high schooler who can't wait to be an adult to buy beer and start earning a paycheck, I failed to understand those relative perks came with a whole lotta shit. 

At some point, I'll get that promotion from a four stripe purp to brown, and I'll embrace the new responsibilities and expectations. But I've spent the last two years thoroughly enjoying the purp experience, and taking advantage of the twilight of my "college" years in this sport. I only wish I had done this with the two previous belts. Regret is kind of a shitty thing that way. 

So what did I tell the white belt?

I told him not to rush it. Savor the experience. Enjoy the obscurity while it lasts, because it ain't gonna last and you're gonna progress from it soon enough. 

~ Jason

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Jiu Jitsu and Play: What We Can Learn From Dogs

A few days ago, I filmed our dog "Thor" playing with a friend's puppy ("Drako".) There are all kind of important jiu jitsu lessons we can learn from this two minute clip, but the most important lesson wasn't fully captured in this brief snippet - The dogs did this for hours.

Why were they rolling around on the ground biting each other repeatedly? Quite simply, they were playing. Both being herding dogs, they were in their element rolling around on the ground nipping at each other. They only stopped because the puppy couldn't stay awake; he literally fell asleep playing.

What IS "play"?

Believe it or not, the science of "play" is fairly robust. "Play" is a pretty large, encompassing concept best defined by watching Dr. Stuart Brown's TED talk on the subject (watch it; it's eye-opening.) He's also the founder of the The National Institute for Play and the author of "Play: How it Shapes the Brain, Opens the Imagination, and Invigorates the Soul".

Pay attention to Brown's comments on "rough and tumble" play in the Ted vid. It'll go a long way towards explaining the application of play in the sport of bjj.

Back to BJJ

All too often, we take jiu jitsu too seriously. We focus on winning medals at tournaments, getting that next stripe on our belts, or finally tapping out our nemesis at our gym. Maybe we're focused on learning to protect ourselves or our family. Or maybe we're preparing for that mma fight in a few months. Or maybe we're just trying to lose those last fifteen pounds from too many Chalupas and discover those abs we haven't seen since tenth grade.

But how often do we just focus on playing?

Is "Play" the Answer to the Sport's Problems?

In the six or seven years I've been doing this sport (yeah, yeah, I know I'm just a "kid" in the sport), I've observed all kinds of serious issues, including:

• Student attrition - One of the biggest issues martial arts businesses and BJJ businesses in particular deal with is student attrition. It's well-known that almost everyone who starts drops out, most before reaching blue belt. Of those, few make it to purp. This forces businesses to adopt policies which basically account for a revolving door of students to pay the bills. You're going to lose "X" number of students per month, therefore you need to constantly generate leads and sell memberships to remain above water. As a high school teacher, I can attest how this undermines the goal of teaching jiu jitsu to your students that stick around. 
• Frustration - This is related to attrition, but jiu jitsu is an endlessly frustrating sport. Normally frustration is a good thing; it leads to personal growth. But if you become so frustrated you quit, that frustration becomes a serious issue.
• The silly "creonte" nonsense - In the BJJ world, leaving a gym for a different gym is paramount to chucking a bad full of puppies and kittens off a bridge. You're expected to be loyal to your "team" (or "family" or whatever other dumb guilt-inducing symbolism gym owners decide to utilize.) Even if your "team" doesn't meet your needs. Again, as a professional educator, I find this idea repulsive on many levels. If gym owners and coaches aren't meeting the needs of a particular student, the student SHOULD move on. Using coercion to keep your students is Bush League bullshit; anyone who does it should be deeply ashamed. 
• Territorial pissing contests - This is kinda related to the creonte stupidity. It's not uncommon for different gyms to develop toxic competitiveness where they sabotage each other. Competitiveness is fine; if done correctly, it makes all of us better while also bringing more people into the sport and advancing the actual art. But that rarely happens. 
• Rampant egos - For a sport where "check your ego at the door" is repeated by almost everyone, it surprised me to find so many emotional midgets in the sport (no offense to little people... I'm a conscientious objector to political correctness.) It's not uncommon to find people who throw a temper tantrum if they get tapped. Or ruminate on losing for weeks, months, or even years. As humbling as jiu jitsu is, the fact that this problem typically gets worse the higher our rank ***should*** be a good indicator that there's a systemic problem with jiu jitsu culture. 

The Solutions

So how can a focus on "play" fix these problems? Let's break down each one.

• Student attrition - Based on conversations I've had with people who have quit the sport, almost all of the reasons can be distilled down to the simple fact that their jiu jitsu experience simply wasn't all that enjoyable. They didn't look forward to training enough for bjj to be a priority over other activities. Or even just sitting on the couch watching Sanford and Son reruns. "Play" is magical because humans never get tired of it. In psychology terms, "play" is an incredibly powerful intrinsic motivator that does not decrease over time. If black belts are just white belts who never quit, it stands to reason our primary goal as teachers of the art should be to keep people motivated enough to not quit. So we focus on play.
• Frustration - When we're playing, the stress of performing morphs from "distress" (bad stress we do not like) to "eustress" (good stress we enjoy.) When we frame every training session as an opportunity to play, the frustration of not being able to hit that arm bar from guard goes from feeling pressure to avoid failing to an amusing game. That shift in perspective makes all the difference in killing the frustration inherent in the sport. And keeps people from  quitting.
• The silly "creonte" nonsense - Focusing on "play" eliminates this problem by eliminating the weird cultiness issues with using unsavory methods to retaining students. Whenever we play games, we want to play the games with others who also enjoy playing the game. If someone's not into the game, we're okay with them leaving to do something else they'd rather be doing. We're not going to get butthurt when they leave. Not only does this create a far more positive environment, but it also eliminates that weird bitterness when students switch gyms. 
• Territorial pissing contests - When we focus on playing, competitiveness takes on a different flavor. It's not nearly as serious; it becomes more colloquial. More laid-back. That, in turn, makes it more productive. If we're playing, we'll be more likely to share and learn from each other. Hold an open mat. Laugh. Joke. Grab a barley soda afterward. If we all did that, we'd eliminate the territorial pissing that's currently commonplace in the sport.  
• Rampant egos - This is a biggie, mostly because it's a strong personal pet peeve of mine. I cannot tolerate shitty losers. Or people who aren't willing to risk losing because their ego is too fragile. Or people who need the constant external validation of winning. In all cases, this is almost always the result of people tying their perception of their own self-worth to their performance on the mat. While it would seem logical to simply tell these people to chill, it's not that easy because this condition usually occurs as a function of deeply-seated insecurities that usually develop from childhood. "Play" fixes this problem by reframing the purpose of rolling from winning to having fun and learning. It's exceptionally hard (and conspicuously out of place) to throw a hissy-fit from getting tapped when everyone else is laughing and having a good time. 

How We Manifest "Play"

Shelly, my wife, fellow purp, and the individual responsible for getting me into this sport, was instrumental in planting the seeds of the epiphany that "play" could be transformative in this sport. Basically, we dick around A LOT both inside and outside the gym. We joke. We tease. We laugh. We act silly. We dress up in costumes sometimes. We playfully torture each other. Basically, we don't take ourselves seriously. This is especially true in our hobbies. 

Before we started this sport, we ran ultramarathons, which is a brutally-difficult, dangerous sport defined by abject pain, suffering, and agony. In short, it's pretty much always miserable. We tempered this unpleasantness with constant "play." This was us running a 50k in the Marin Headlands in the San Francisco Bay area. 

It wasn't a "costume" race. :-)

When we started bjj, it didn't take too long to bring that light-heartedness to the mats. Since that time, we've fully embraced our dumbassery. When we're not leading classes, we turn it down a few notches, but still joke around, shit-talk each other, give each other wet willies, and so on.

When we are leading classes, we ramp it up a bit with more jokes (often utilizing adult humor and a complete disregard for political correctness... which means we don't train with the easily-offended), the inclusion of games, "themed" classes, funny music, doing practical jokes (including Shelly's favorite joke when rolling with someone new, they go to knee-on-belly, and she loudly screams "OH MY GOD, MY BABY!"), teasing, and a whole lotta laughing. If we "win", we're humble. If we "lose", we thank and/or congratulate our partner. 

Note this is OUR version of play, which is kinda twisted and a little dark. But WE'RE kinda twisted and a little dark. And it's impossible to offend either of us. Your mileage may vary. More importantly, you have to find your own play style, which is discussed in Brown's book I linked at the beginning of this post.

But Doesn't This Foster Shitty Jiu Jitsu?

This is the most common question I receive when I talk about play and jiu jitsu. No, it doesn't. For all our dicking around, we are dead serious about our solemn responsibility as stewards of the art. As much as I hate fragile egos, I hate shitty jiu jitsu even more. This is why I always train with the best people I can (who can tolerate aforementioned adult-ish "play" style), I almost always pick the best opponent when rolling (iron sharpens iron... which turns out really is true metallurgically-speaking), and I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about the art. 

When rolling, I may be joking around, but I'm constantly working on improving technical knowledge and precision, pacing, breathing, macro- and micro-strategy, and so on. I'm constantly striving to become the best version of myself I can be, and doing everything I can to help my training partners become the best version of themselves they can be. 

There's an idiom in jiu jitsu that earning your purple belt pretty much guarantees you have the requisites of eventually earning your black belt (which is a stupid goal... that'll be a post for another day) unless you get severely injured or time constraints make training impossible. Basically, you've passed the slew of "tests" that cause others to quit. For me personally, "play" is a critically-important part of what has kept me on the mats, and will continue to keep me on the mats. And I suspect a focus on play will keep others in the sport, too.

Conclusion

So there you have it. Play could very well transform the sport and eliminate a lot of the silly problems that chronically plague bjj. As much as I would love to see other people adopting this approach, I suspect there are just too many stoic sticks in the mud to fully embrace the idea. Some of you, though, the folks who are perpetual kids at heart, really need to start learning the lesson from Thor and Drako. If you're one of those exceptions, though, touch base with me! The easiest way is to friend me on Facebook or join the El Diablo jiu jitsu FB group. 

~ Jason

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Ways We Perceive Jiu Jitsu: Every Opponent is a Puzzle

I'm enamored with learning about and discussing how us jiu jitsu practitioners perceive jiu jitsu. Like, how do different people think about the art? Why this interest?

It's a natural intersect between two of my passions - psychology and da jitz. 

More practically, it helps me understand my opponents' thought processes, which helps me analyze their game, which helps me learn jiu jitsu a little more efficiently. Whenever I'm rolling with someone (especially new training partners), I ask myself questions like:

• Are they being aggressive and trying to impose their "A" game on me?
• Are they playing a more passive "counter-grappling" game and reacting to what I do?
• Are they experimenting with something new?
• Do they rely on a handful of well-practiced techniques, or do they have a huge repository of knowledge they can apply?
• Are they trying to bait me into various traps?
• And, of course, how do they think about jiu jitsu?

That last one leads to more questions:

• Do they perceive jiu jitsu as a collection of techniques?
• Do they perceive jiu jitsu as a collection of concepts?
• Are they rolling to play, learn, or win (which seems to be more common the higher rank I achieve)?
• Are they relying on a different grappling art (usually folk style or freestyle wrestling here in the U.S.)?
• Are they trying to analyze MY game?

And so on. 

The goal in all of this is pretty simple - I see each and every opponent as a puzzle, and my ultimate goal is to solve the puzzle. And solving the puzzle doesn't necessarily mean being able to reliably beat them (though that is often a side-effect.) The goal is to understand their game. I basically become a detective looking for clues in their actions. Or in how they talk about jiu jitsu. 

I'll typically pay attention to how they start. From the knees? Standing? From a dominant position? Inferior position? Do they seem to attack more to their left side (more common) or the right side (less common)? Do they favor chokes? Arm locks? Foot locks? What about pace? Are they spazzy? Lazy? Controlled? Or do they vary the pace? How is their positional control? Posture? All of these elements (and more) offer clues to their game. 

Once I understand their game, I can replicate their game. That process is a major way I learn new stuff and evolve my own game. Kind of a "learning via mimicry" idea.

I've tried perceiving the entire art as a puzzle, but the depth and breadth of the sport is simply too vast for this approach to be functionally useful, at least at my current level (purp.) So I downsize to the level of individual puzzles. It was far more manageable. 

Of course, this concept has its limitations, or at least in regards to fully understanding all my training partners. Pretty much anyone with more experience and/or technical knowledge than me is difficult-if-not-impossible to completely dissect. That doesn't mean trying to solve their puzzle is not without use; I just won't be able to completely solve the puzzle. Making an attempt still teaches me quite a bit. 

An ancillary benefit of this method of perceiving jiu jitsu is it removes the pressure of winning. We've all heard the phrase "you're either winning or learning." But how many people actually follow this idiom? The answer? Not many.

When we start perceiving our opponents as puzzles, it frees us to fully explore every element of their game, including how they finish submissions. That means you HAVE to put yourself in positions to lose in order to learn, even if you're getting tapped to lower belts. I like to think this is what the old timers meant when they said stuff like "check your ego at the door." Anecdotally, I've found people who refuse to get in bad positions universally plateau at some point and eventually quit the sport. You cannot learn if you are unwilling to lose.

This approach also compels us to try tackling the toughest puzzles we can, meaning we should always be choosing the best training partners we can find. Sometimes that means finding the best gym we can. Sometimes that means rolling with the best people in any given class (this is the reason the "don't ask higher belts to roll" tradition is utterly stupid.)

Ideally, this concept should be used as a supplement to typical training methods like learning actual technical skills, drilling, situational rolling, and so on. Also, the longer you train (and accumulate more knowledge), the more effective the concept becomes. This occurs simply because you have an ever-growing repository of knowledge to be able to recognize and understand what your opponent is doing. 

Give it a shot. If you like the concept, give me some feedback either in the comments section here on the blog or in the El Diablo BJJ Group on Facebook.

~ Jason

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Why Personality Assessment is Bullshit

In my last exceptionally long post about finding the right gym, I went through a very lengthy discussion on finding the ideal gym based upon personality types, including a long assessment of my own weird-ass personality. The point was to get you to start thinking about how you match up with the culture of the place you decide to train. 

Now I'm telling you personality tests are bullshit.

Welcome to El Diablo Jiu Jitsu! ;-)

Okay, maybe not "bullshit" per se, but personality tests can be be problematic. Why? They could limit your potential for growth. The problem comes from the certainty of tests and how we perceive them. Once we determine our "type", we may not try quite as hard to improve on elements of that personality type that may be construed as negative. 

Certainty is the enemy of growth. 

How does this work? Let's say you take the Neris Types Indicator test over at 16personalities.com, the test that was the basis of the prior post. And you get the INTP type (the type I get approximately a quarter to a third of the time depending on mood.) Part of this personality type is a disdain for rules and guidelines. You already have a tendency to ignore rules and such, and the personality type just reinforces your behaviors. Nevermind that you JUST answered questions in a way that resulted in you getting the INTP type results. For the next few weeks, months, or even forever, you now feel justified in bucking all rules and guidelines, even those which may cause harm to yourself or others. Boss doesn't let you eat at your desk? Screw him, I'm an INTP! Stop light turned red? Suck it, cops, this is just who I am! The sign says "Keep your hands off the dancers"? Ain't no bouncers gonna stop me! You get the idea.

Why does this happen?

Because the test told you this is your personality. 

We assume the results are innate and unchanging, so we don't bother working to improve or change them. This is how personality tests can be dangerous - they close us off to self-improvement.

This is exactly what has happened to me in the past. Despite being an outgoing, sometimes-over enthusiastic teacher who loves interacting with others, I'm somewhat of an introvert. I need regular periods of quiet and solitude, usually to recharge and do some deep thinking. Over the last few years, I've learned to regulate this quite well, to the point where only my good friends know I'm an introvert. 

This wasn't always the case. 

Back in my younger days, I read a book about introversion and extroversion. I immediately identified with the former. The book went on to describe the elements of introversion, which included shyness and social anxiety. After reading the book, I started noticing those traits in myself. Interacting with others seemed to make me kinda nervous, and I started having difficulty approaching strangers... especially women. Why? Because I was an introvert, and that's what introverts did. 

Thanks to that wonderful phenomenon we call hindsight, I now understand I was experiencing a self-fulfilling prophecy. After reading about the symptoms and behaviors of introverts, I became hypersensitive to my own behaviors in social situations. It's kinda like when someone asks you if you feel itchy, and all of a sudden all you can feel is itchiness. Our brains attune to the faint sensations we'd normally ignore. When I was approaching strangers, I suddenly noticed twinges of anxiety... which produced more anxiety. That anxiety then led to shyness, something I had rarely experienced before. I spent years experiencing this all because of that stupid book. 

Don't fall into this trap. 

Here at the El Diablo Jiu Jitsu project, I'll talk a lot about self-improvement. Both Shelly and I have been on a perpetual quest to fix our shit ever since we got together a decade and a half ago. And we've made incredible progress. Over that time, we've gained some incredible insight to human psychology in general and the factors that lead to positive, measurable change in particular. 

We're not self-help gurus. We're not life coaches. We're just normal folks who continually seek out the best methods to grow and learn. One such lesson- don't let personality tests pigeonhole you into believing you can't change. 

Now get out there and train!

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Finding the Right Gym: Personality Assessment

When you make the decision to join a jiu jitsu gym, finding the right fit is important. When Shelly and I began this silly adventure (as 37 year old former ultrarunner hippies), we inadvertently stumbled into the perfect gym for us - San Diego Fight Club in El Cajon, CA. By pure happenstance (I'll tell the story in a later post), we connected with Charlie Kohler (Nelson Monteiro black belt and former King of the Cage world champ, among other things.) 

It would be several years before we really understood just how lucky we were to find Charlie. Not only is he a god damned combat sport encyclopedia, but his personality matched ours to a T. Or is it "tee"? 

Anyway, Charlie was the perfect combination of sadistic (we like suffering and pain... see the "ultrarunner" comment above), analytical, and tough in the sense that he did not give us external validation when training jits, boxing, kickboxing, or mma. Neither Shelly nor I can tolerate empty affirmations; pats on the head make us uncomfortable. And he gave us the freedom to explore the sport on our own terms while still providing precise technical instruction and wisdom. We hated living in San Diego because we're country folk at heart, but we tolerated it for almost six years mostly because we loved Charlie (and our teammates.)

Anyway, during that time, we saw A LOT of people come and go. For some, jiu jitsu wasn't for them. For others, the gym culture wasn't the right fit. That resonated with me. As a public high school teacher, I fully understand the importance of finding a teacher that that fits YOUR personality. To that end, I'll share some of my collected wisdom on the matter (worth noting - I'm a psychology teacher with an academic background in experimental social psychology... this topic is a borderline obsession of mine.) To find a gym with the right fit, follow these steps. 

Step One: Understand yourself. Take this test. You'll get one of sixteen personality types based on the Myers-Briggs personality assessment. And yes, I fully understand the limitations of personality assessment, which includes a complete understanding of the Forer Effect. Still, I have been using this particular test in my classroom for years, and it's decent. And free. More importantly, it works for this particular purpose. 

Once you get your results, pay attention to the "Strengths and Weaknesses" section. And maybe the "Friendships" section. This will give you insight to what you need in regards to a gym environment. 

Step Two: Understand your coaches. This can be tricky if you don't actually know your coaches. In regards to the El Diablo Jits Project, we can tell you precisely who we are and what we're about. Or just get to know us. You'll know if we're a good fit pretty early on; we don't hide any part of our personality. Well, outside the bedroom, anyway. Mostly. 

If you're trying a gym other than El Diablo, just try it out for a month or three and pay close attention to the coaches and how they interact with students. And trust your intuition.

If you ARE interested in El Diablo, I'm going to go into considerable detail on myself because it's important my potential students really understand what I'm all about. If you only know me topically, I probably seem somewhat schizophrenic and definitely weird because I seem to be filled with a ton of contradictions. 

My Personality

I'm a mix of Debater and Logician. True to my experimental psychology background, life is one giant playful, adventurous experiment and I take an objective view on anything and everything. I love learning and love playing with and synthesizing new, unorthodox ideas. I blame my left-handedness. 

I thrive on creative problem-solving and am perpetually drawn to the unconventional (like this project.) I get annoyed with routine and tradition. I am constantly refining my underlying values and guiding principles, and go to great lengths to live precisely what I believe. Authenticity is incredibly important to me; I do not tolerate hypocrisy. As such, I tend to befriend people who are strong enough to point out my own hypocrisy; and I love them for that. 

I'm militantly open-minded and intellectually humble, but will argue incessantly and assertively not because I need to right, rather I need to fuel the internal debates in my head with new perspectives and ideas. I work off the assumption that I'm always wrong, so I'm on a perpetual journey to get closer and closer to the asymptote that is "the truth", but recognize it's a journey with no end.

I'm assertive, confident, and decisive. Irrationally, sometimes. I love to lead people and have zero tolerance for bad leadership or people who do not take responsibility for their actions. I hate childish melodrama or emotional outbursts; I consider both a serious character weakness. I can be extremely condescending to people who have strong opinions but can't back up said opinions with logic and reason. I do not tolerate drama queens, people who emotionally manipulate, or people who prey on the weak or gullible. I have a decidedly dark sense of humor and sarcasm is my second language.

I temper the abrasive parts of my personality with warmth, compassion, and humor, though I do not hand out any of those things to those who I feel are not deserving. I'm passionate about defending those who cannot defend themselves, but am disgusted by people who play the victim if they're otherwise capable to taking care of their own shit. 

I'm also humble on the mats and take jiu jitsu idioms like "check your ego at the door" and "there's winning and learning" incredibly seriously. I love getting my ass kicked on the mats not because I like to lose (I'm actually hyper-competitive but see the big picture), but rather because it affords me the best opportunity to learn. Iron sharpens iron, after all. I am, however, willing and able to dish out some "smashing pressure game" justice if needed, and I'll be giggling the whole time. 

I don't give a shit about belt rank, status symbols, fame, inducing envy in others, or receiving external affirmations. I'm not motivated by money, praise, winning medals, or otherwise trying to "prove" myself. I do what I do because it's intrinsically motivating. I do what I do for the journey, not to reach a destination. This is the reason I don't compete in bjj very often, but I DO have a strong desire to do one more mma fight before I'm sent out to pasture. Jiu jitsu competitions, to me, are just inconvenient, expensive training sessions. MMA, however, is a high like none I've ever experienced in my life. Despite being somewhat of a pacifist, I love recreational, consensual violence. 

I don't follow competitive jiu jitsu and am not impressed by name-dropping unless it's part of an intelligent conversation about something deeper. Celebrities, in my mind, are no different than you or I and deserve no special treatment or recognition. 

Shelly's a Campaigner and, to a lesser degree, also a Logician. I'll let her explain her own personality in a future post. 

Okay, so what's the next step after you get to know your coaches? 

Step Three: Assess the match. Once you learn about yourself and you learn about your potential coaches, decide if the match is acceptable. After all, you're probably going to spend a lot of time, money, sweat, blood, and tears on this endeavor. The right match will be the difference between sticking with this sport for the rest of your life (pro tip: follow the advice of those who have come before us and don't make earning a black belt your goal), or dropping out at the first sign of adversity. 

If you're training at another gym, this will require a bit of intuition. Though you can use those personalities on the 16personalities website as a rough guide (you'll have to guess what their type is, but it's not too difficult.) Or just talk them into taking the test. 

If you're interested in El Diablo, I can make it easy. Like I said earlier, I've used this methodology in the classroom for years. I can teach any of the personality types, but some definitely resonate with my personality better than others. In regards to El Diablo, a better fit will definitely result in a far more positive experience. 

The Best Matches

This list goes in approximate order from best to worst fits.

• Debaters (ENTP): This is my type; this is also one of the two types that typically become my closest personal friends. Debaters intuitively "get" me (and I them), which frees up our time to spend doing the weird shit debaters like to do. 
• Campaigners (ENFP): This is Shelly's primary personality type. We've been together since the mid-aughts, which probably tells you all you need to know about my ability to work with this type. Campaigners are basically deep-thinking Debaters with more of a focus on the emotional than the logical, so we tend to compliment each other well while still intuitively understanding each other. This is the other type of personality that usually results in close personal friendships. 
• Commanders (ENTJ): We share a love of logical reasoning, and we also share a love of leading. As such, I love bouncing ideas off Commanders. I usually become pretty close friends with Commanders. 
• Architects (INTJ): Architects possess the intellectual curiosity and emotional resilience to thrive under me, but there's just enough of a difference to provide a great mutually-beneficial relationship.
• Logicians (INTP): Logicians *should* be higher on the list given I'm kinda an INTP some of the time, but we tend to argue a lot. While it's not upsetting to each other (we argue logic and don't take it personally), it can be annoying to bystanders. I try to surround myself with other Logicians, more than any other personality type, have the unique ability to call me out on ALL of my hypocrisy, especially that which I do not see. That's incredibly important to me, which is why I have so much respect for fellow Logicians.
• Virtuosos (ISTP): What I do in my head, Virtuosos do in real life. These guys are basically a practical manifestation of creative problem-solving, and we tend to develop mutually-satisfying relationships in anything in general and in jiu jitsu in particular. When teaming with Virtuosos, there's not much we can't accomplish.
• Entrepreneurs (ESTP): Entertainers work well with me because they love to play. Their lack of seriousness fits well, though they sometimes get bored with my incessant logical reasoning.

The "Meh" Matches

There's only two in this category; there's not much middle ground in this whole "personality" thing.

• Entertainers (ESFP): I love Entertainers; we share a sense of adventure and a bend towards uninhibited hedonism. Unfortunately, my sometimes unintentional criticism can be too harsh for them. This personality type can be wonderful if the Entertainer has developed somewhat thick skin.
• Protagonists (ENFJ): Like the Entertainers, the biggest issue with Protagonists tends to be their sensitivity. Likewise, if they have thicker skin, the relationship is usually solid. 

The Bad Matches

Still listed in order from best to absolute worst. If you fall into this category, pay very close attention to the areas of conflict. I don't change who I am to accommodate, so you'd have to decide how flexible you're willing to be. Or, minimally, be willing to directly address the issue with me. Direct, immediate communication initiated by the student is absolutely necessary for these types. 

• Advocates (INFJ): While I share a desire to change the world with Advocates, their sensitivity and perfectionist tendencies sometimes make it difficult to tolerate my ad hoc, freewheeling style. I usually either end up offending them or driving them crazy with my "good enough" approach to anything and everything. They can usually benefit from a more gentle, structured approach.
• Mediators (INFP): I love Mediators; they're almost always genuinely kind, compassionate people. And we share a love of trying to see the big picture. Unfortunately, their tendency to take things personally almost always results in hurt feelings that do not get resolved, which eventually leads to resentment. Mediators usually require a more gentle approach.
• Adventurers (ISFP): I love adventurers' tendency to screw with social norms; that shared love can result in great relationships. Their fluctuating self-esteem, coupled with inherent competitiveness, can result in a lot of misunderstandings, especially on the mat. And their typical high-strung nature doesn't always gel with my laid-back "chill" tendencies. They could benefit from a coach with more desire to prove themselves. 

The Matches I'll Likely Refuse to Work With

When it comes to compatibility, these personality types are the worst of the worst for me. It is difficult for me to teach these personality types, and it's difficult for them to learn from me. Conflicts and misunderstandings will be too frequent to establish any type of mutually-beneficial working relationship. Each one of these groups would definitely not enjoy the El Diablo culture and would be far better served training elsewhere, and I'd be happy to help them find that better fit. 

• Consuls (ESFJ): Consuls are great because they're basically social glue, which is an awesome trait. But it's the other stuff that's problematic. Consuls need too much external validation (if I sense you need praise, I will refuse to give it; I'm a dick that way), do not take criticism well, are too inflexible, and are too concerned with social status for me to work with in this capacity. Consuls could benefit from a coach who is more sensitive to their emotional needs.
• Logisticians (ISTJ): I have great respect for Logisticians, but my entire personality is based on going against convention. That's the precise opposite of logisticians. Basically, I drive them insane, and they usually blame themselves for this. This is a clear case of "It's me, not you that's the problem." Because of this, I avoid working with Logisticians. Logisticians would be better served in a far more traditional "academy." Look for the places where the coaches call themselves "professors" or "sensei."  
• Defender (ISFJ): I share Defenders' desire to protect the weak, but their tendency to internalize will always cause problems. My assertive, blunt personality will offend them on a regular basis, but the hurt feelings never get resolved. So they build until they explode. That's never pretty. Defenders will be be better served to seek out more sensitive coaches. 
• Executive (ESTJ): Being at the bottom of this list is about all you have to know about my ability to work with Executives. This personality type is so profoundly different than mine, there's no hope of producing a productive relationship. Executives would be better served finding coaches with far more structure and rigidity, perhaps those with a military background.

Conclusion

Finding an environment that matches your personality is important in jiu jitsu. Any ethical gym owner will make at least some attempt to recruit students who fit in well. Here at the El Diablo Jiu, this is a major priority for us, not only for the sake of our students, but also for the sake of Shelly and I. We care far more about creating the environment we know we need to thrive and succeed than padding our rosters and bank accounts. 

Will we lose potential students?

Sure. But guiding people to gyms that provide a better fit will serve the greater purpose of spreading this sport to the masses and improving the collective community. We take the abundance mentality seriously, and this is one such manifestation of the idea that really matters. 

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