You’ve seen “that guy,” right? The guy who has every latest gadget and geegaw. The one who has a thick wallet (yet quickly thinning ...) and shiny new bits and pieces on his weapons, lots and lots of innovative, concealable weapons.
And his collection of knives ... whoa!
There are a couple of issues going on here, and while I don’t mean to criticize unfairly, there are some observations that should be made. The first is that merely owning a defensive tool doesn’t protect you; you have to put in the requisite time to be able to get the tool into use (your draw) and then use it to its full capability.
That’s where the military term “operator” came from; it means simply that the Marine or soldier operates his equipment — and exceptionally well.
When it comes to combatives, there’s no replacement for training and time spent learning about what you have in your hand, how best to employ it, how to get it out in a hurry when you’re under duress, how to keep it in your possession when someone clearly would rather you didn’t have it and how to incorporate it into the way you fight.
All too often, people will suddenly realize how vulnerable they are and attempt to resolve that trepidation with a purchase.
It just doesn’t work that way — with even the most obvious tools. A great example of this is aerosol irritants such as oleoresin capsicum, or “pepper spray.” When we purchase OC for resale, we purchase the same number of active and inert units.
The reason should be obvious: We want to train people to use the device they’ll rely on to protect themselves in a moment of terror.
And it has to be the right kind of training. In this example, a traditional program might focus on the chemical composition of the compound, what the spray pattern is, how to use it safely, how to decontaminate people and other important but perhaps not critically important elements.
Yes, it is critical for law-enforcement users to understand positional asphyxia and decontamination, but for all users, getting the spray into action during a violent struggle, retaining the weapon once it’s drawn, being able to keep the strong hand from being averted and having options should the spray fail are absolutely necessary. That means training — hard training and lots of it.
What it doesn’t mean is that merely buying a can of pepper spray and carrying it with you is enough.
The same is true with virtually any self-defense tool: a knife, a handgun, a bludgeon, a pain-compliance device or any gimmicky, probably less-than-effective widget you can find.
I get it. The mental math some people undertake to try to figure out a solution to their vulnerabilities often boils down to “If I buy this, I’ll be safer.” If that was true, the solution would be simple: Spend some money, carry the device, and be instantly safer and able to protect yourself.
No investment in time or pain would be necessary. There would be no frustration from having to learn new ways to move your body and no disappointment from being initially unable to move quickly, intensely and effectively.
Trouble is, it’s not true. There isn’t an equipment panacea. Yet many people spend far more money trying to find the magic “thing” than getting quality training in a multitude of disciplines. That I don’t get.
Another pitfall that afflicts gear nerds is owning “hangar queens.” A military term that originates from the air wing, hangar queen refers to the one plane or helicopter the squadron has that’s perfect. It’s perfect because it never leaves the hangar.
No one’s allowed to fly it. It’s a perfectly functioning aircraft, but it will never see duty because it’s more important that it’s kept in pristine condition. God forbid it should get some actual use!
I’ve known a lot of people who have hangar-queen knives, hangar-queen handguns and hangar-queen rifles. They’re perfect – free of nicks, scratches, dents, dings and wear marks. They’re weapons that never see hard use because their appreciation isn’t utilitarian; it’s aesthetic.
Honestly, that’s just ridiculous.
Our weapons aren’t meant to be admired or “loved.” They’re just another form of shovel, a tool we put to use for a particular purpose. To train correctly, we have to use the tools we carry. In short, don’t trailer your bike to Sturgis. Ride it there!
The next time you feel the urge to buy “the next best thing” for your self-defense arsenal, take a breath. Think about the money you’ve spent on stuff versus the money you’ve spent on training to use the stuff you already have – not the least of which is unarmed combat.
The naked-man concept (having no weapons at all and needing to rely on just yourself) is as valid today as it’s ever been.
Weapons should be viewed as devices that enhance the skills you personally possess for self-protection. Start there.
Similarly, before you hang one more thing off that M4, remember that it’s about the training, not the trinkets. Although there are myriad accessories you can opt for that might make your carbine better in some way, you still have to operate it.
Aspire to be the man with one gun – or one anything. Why? As the adage goes, “Beware the man with only one gun. He probably knows how to use it.”