The Importance of Being Uke

WPlank, July 2017; updated May 2025

Serving as uke is an essential part of training in any martial art. In many martial arts, especially Aikido, the role of uke—the person who receives the technique—is often overlooked in favor of the more glamorous role of tori, who executes the technique. This article emphasizes the importance of intentional, realistic attacks from uke to maintain the integrity of training, ensure effective technique development, and uphold the principles of the art.

For those who practice arts that do not use Japanese terminology, the word “uke” is from the Japanese verb, “ukeru,” which simply means “to receive.” The uke, in the context of these arts, is typically responsible for initiating the attack. The person executing the defense is referred to as “tori,” from the Japanese verb “toru,” or to seize or “take hold of.”

Over the years, I’ve noticed a tendency in training to put a great deal of emphasis on the action of the tori. Students are often tested on their ability to execute specific defenses to specific attacks, but what they do when serving as uke is given little attention. Or worse, uke are over-cooperative, reducing aiki practice to little more than a choreagraphed dance. Further, we’ll occasionally encounter aiki schools where students learn to defend against absurd attacks: poorly-thrown punches, grabs with no purpose, or instances where uke appears to be running at tori for no apparent reason (like an arcade game in the early 90’s). To address this in Ki Budo Ryu Aikido, Soke Gary taught aggressive techniques such as strikes, kicks, and chokes to help train uke to deliver meaningful attacks to tori. This can be often missed in Aikido, and this is a principle to which we must constantly return to ensure a certain quality.

Most martial artists understand the need to balance training that simulates a genuine threat while not exposing students to unnecessary danger.  We create parameters based on assumptions of what we believe could happen, and the source of these scenarios could vary dramatically. This is something we must continually evaluate to keep our arts relevant. However, as our colleague DJN Kurt frequently reminds us, we are practicing an art, and this could include aspects that are nods to a tradition or specific historical context that may not seem applicable today.

That said, we must be vigilant in our training to avoid development around poor attacks. If an element in our art includes attacks that are reminiscent of 12th century military training, it’s helpful to know, to whatever degree possible, where/when/why those were developed. The people who put these arts together weren’t fools, so there is almost always a discernable purpose behind most of what we do, even in the classical arts. Nevertheless, respect for our predecessors doesn’t call for blind conformity, so we should taking nothing in our training for granted.  Besides, if you ever were attacked by someone on horseback with a spear, you’ll be glad to know which parts of your training will be applicable to that situation.

In Aikido, there are a few types of ineffective attacks that we particularly want to avoid. Key among them are strikes that are considerably off-target (i.e. a punch that are aimed away from tori’s face), instances when uke falls past tori when tori hasn’t actually done anything (my personal favorite), or poorly-executed techniques where uke is not off-balance (kuzushi) but falls anyway. In the beginning, this can happen as new students learn to target their attacks and take a fall. However, this is a habit we want to break as early as possible, and we have a responsibility to one another to call it out when we notice it. In KBR, we expect that if tori doesn’t achieve kuzushi, uke won’t fall. We don’t hand each other anything.

Related to this are attacks that are delivered with little or no commitment. We have to avoid the temptation to slip into the demo mentality where we go through the motions of an attack without any attention to what we are doing. The simplest remedy for this is to remind uke of the purpose of the attack. Shomen-Uchi, for example, which is a basic overhead strike, can more accurately thought of as an attack likely to come from a weapon in the hand as opposed to the ol’ James Bond Judo chop. This conversation alone can add meaning to an attack that might have otherwise been little more than an empty gesture, thereby resulting in better intent on the part of the uke and contributing to superior technique.

When we do encounter poor attacks, we’ve noted three common reasons:

1.       Uke doesn’t understand the attack: We mentioned this before but it bears repeating. Taking a moment to ensure uke understands the purpose and proper execution of an attack is essential. For example, if training at that particular moment calls for a hand on the shoulder, kata tori, it would probably be helpful to point out to uke that this typically, though not always, leads to a strike with the other hand. Since KBR teaches by principles, we don’t need to stress over every nuance of every attack, but sometimes this conversation can help our uke bring more focus and intent into their attacks.

2.       Fear of hurting tori: Most of us are reasonable people who don’t go around punching our friends in the face. While this is an attitude that we’d generally encourage, we need to remember that, as uke, we have a responsibility to each other to deliver sound, meaningful attacks that are at a speed and severity appropriate to tori’s level of experience. In KBR, we’ve considered headgear for tori when testing at higher levels so uke can make contact.

3.       Fear of being thrown/taking the fall: This one is self-explanatory, but it bears mentioning. There are those who are simply afraid to take a fall. For most folk training in an aiki system, we don’t encounter this very often since we typically have such an emphasis on ukemi, but we should pay special attention when training with new students or with folk from other schools. Uke who are afraid to fall should be paired with experienced partners who will recognize their limitations and not put them at unnecessary risk. Like Soke Jerry always said, it’s the white belts that’ll kill ya. If that’s true, let’s not pair white belts with each other unless they demonstrate a legitimate comfort with the fall that’s required.

The other side of this is training with those uke who are TOO good. They are so committed to the fall, they’ll feign a light punch then heave themselves into an enthusiastic roll dive before tori has had the chance to do anything. Again, this is often due to one of the reasons noted above. I’ve even heard of schools where students were critisized when serving as uke because they wouldn’t fall when a senior student or instructor was working on a technique. This leads to poor technique that compounds upon itself.  Regardless, we should take our role as uke seriously and avoid the temptation to focus strictly on acting as tori. Serving as uke is an opportunity not only for our own growth as martial artists but the growth of others, and we should give special attention when functioning in this capacity. This is our responsibility as practitioners.