(Approx 2 minute 45 second read)

In my recent article I wrote about using Japanese terms to describe techniques, which in certain situations can be limiting. One such example I gave was nukite.
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A couple of the comments stated you wouldn’t use that technique in a real fight. Of course they are right, when taught and used as a straight finger strike perhaps to the solar plexus. And this was the point of my article, viewing the surface of the movement, not its depth.
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Many practitioners are taught that nukite is simply a straight fingertip strike aimed at the body. But this is a common misunderstanding. The human hand, narrow and delicate, is not structurally suited to reliably strike dense targets like the solar plexus without risking injury, even with conditioning.
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Anatomical realism matters. The solar plexus is protected by bone and muscle; it’s not the open, fragile target it’s sometimes presented as in modern teaching. Striking dense areas with a narrow fingertip risks the striker far more than the person being struck. That realism changes how we should think about the movements in the first place.
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Looking at kata, there is little to support the idea that a middle-level hand position was always meant to be a pinpoint strike to a single anatomical spot. It makes more sense to read the chudan line as a height reference: a general midline rather than a prescription for a precise bullseye.
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A function of nukite, often missed, lies in its adaptability and leverage, not in delivering brute force. Its narrow shape allows the practitioner to ‘get through’ small openings, such as under an arm, between the guard of an opponent, or through spaces between limbs and the body, making it ideal for initiating throws or controlling an opponent’s movement.
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For me, practicality is where the difference shows up. When the original intent or application isn’t passed on, people keep the shape but lose the function, and then guesswork fills the gap. But when you approach things with principles in mind, you see how a movement can adapt.
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A narrow hand can slip under an arm to reach behind and off-balance, it can act as a guide to the head or shoulders, and it can create leverage for a throw or joint control. That isn’t multiple random “applications”; it’s adaptation from a single movement principle.
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Imagine pushing through, getting past the body, like a punch should penetrate. It functions as a bridge, a movement that connects principles and techniques. It’s less about the named technique itself and more about how the body moves and applies force in context. Used this way, it can guide the opponent, create openings, and set up throws or joint manipulations. The movement is the priority, and the “technique” is simply a reference point.
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For example, I often teach my students to use nukite this way to slip a narrow hand under an opponent’s arm to reach behind, and initiate a throw, or slip through a high guard to reach behind the neck, again perhaps to initiate a throw or control the head. The profile and narrowness of the hand allow them to manipulate the opponent’s balance without relying on brute force. The movement becomes a tool for control, not a static strike.
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For me, this highlights a broader lesson: techniques are movements first. Names are helpful, but they should never limit how the movement is applied in real situations. Focusing on the principles, adaptation, and context, this ensures that techniques remain practical when you need them, rather than being memorized gestures with no functional value.
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In short, nukite is not about absolute precision, perhaps trying to hit a moving target with your fingertips, but that of leverage, and adaptability. A different idea altogether.
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Written by Adam Carter – Shuri Dojo
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Photo Credit: With thanks to Sal Belahi of the Kobudokan Dojo