Etiquette is the label we give to behaviours and rules that are not part of our culture – fine-dining etiquette, meeting-the-royals etiquette, Japanese etiquette.
But to habitual fine-diners, to the royals, to the Japanese, these rules and behaviours are not etiquette – they are just the way things are, just the way things are done.
As such, it’s useful to recognise that we don’t need to understand or agree with them. We just adhere to them.
Of course, they do have a logic to them; sometimes that logic is obvious, sometimes it requires a closer look.
What is Aikido?
Aikido is a way of developing freedom within constraint (within, rather than from because we can’t escape the pressure until we’re dead).
On the mat, that constraint comes from the physical presence of our partner, the uke. Their physical pressure is the catalyst for the development of a free body (relaxed, mobile, responsive).
But Aikido is a mind and body art, so where is the constraint upon the mind?
Etiquette.
The body requires a uke, a mat, a class – a time and place. The mind, by contrast, is formless – beyond time and place. Etiquette demands an aware and attentive mind, i.e. don’t just bow as part of the class, but have a respectful attitude whenever you meet someone.
Before class
Our study begins long before the first exercise.
Arriving in time to prepare the dojo shifts punctuality from a private matter of convenience into an act of care; thus the practice begins by contribution, not mere attendance.
When you arrive just in time for class, you are leaving the preparation to others. Don’t make it a habit.
That same consideration shows in the way people enter the mat. Removing shoes, stepping onto the mat properly, and bowing before practice all mark a deliberate transition from daily life into a shared training environment. These are not theatrical gestures; they invite you to enter with the right frame of mind.
Sitting quietly ready for class starts encourages stillness, patience, and self-regulation, so the lesson starts with attention rather than chatter. In that sense, Aikido requires quiet attention as much as dynamic movement.
During class
We bow to the dojo, the teacher, and our training partners because Aikido is relational, not individual. We are not there to study alone; we are there to train with others – we can only improve with the support of others.
Bowing to your partner frames that person as a collaborator, not an opponent. Even when training is physically demanding, the relationship remains one of mutual development. The bow at the end of the exchange makes that equally clear: thank you for helping me learn.
Quietness also matters. Speaking only when necessary emphasises embodied learning rather than chatter (we have a tea-break for that). Too much talking disrupts the quality of attention that the study depends on.
It is customary to ask permission when leaving or re-entering the mat during class. It’s a reminder that your actions are part of a shared rhythm, not purely personal decisions (and allows the teacher to know where everyone is, for safety’s sake).
Teaching on the mat
There is only one teacher on the mat.
Everyone has opinions, and everyone notices things differently. In class, set those observations aside and train with full attention.
During an exercise, neither partner should be dividing attention between their own practice and critiquing their partner. Put your discernment into improving the quality of your own role.
There is only one teacher on the mat.
Each lesson has a teacher whose responsibility is to guide the class. Their role is to shape the session, choose the exercise, and offer the perspective of someone standing outside it.
When you are inside the exercise, your view is necessarily partial. Trust the structure of the class, follow the instruction given, and let the practice work on you.
There is only one teacher on the mat.
Develop your One Point to be your inner teacher. Experience what you experience; feel what you feel; learn to distinguish thinking from direct perception. Listen carefully, and respect that inner process.
And allow others the same space to do their own work.
What does teaching look like?
- Verbal feedback during the exercise.
- Physical hints, such as stiffening when they go the wrong way or easing when they go the right way.
- Direct corrections, such as: “you did this; do this instead.”
- Helpful prompts, such as: “now relax.”
- Positive comments, such as: “good, that’s right.”
After class
The end of the lesson is not the end of the practice.
The final bow closes the lesson with gratitude and awareness that our study is shared and that we are part of something bigger.
Putting the mats away, cleaning up the tea things, and restoring the room are all part of the practice. Training depends on a space maintained by collective effort – this is as true in our permanent headquarters as in a local village hall.
When you rush off immediately after class, you are leaving that work to others. Don’t make it a habit.
Rather than treating the dojo as a place that others are responsible for, everyone is encouraged to clean the space ready for the next activity. That attitude is quietly powerful: it emphasises contribution and stewardship instead of consumption.
Beyond the dojo
Etiquette does not stay in the dojo. It trains habits that matter elsewhere: arriving prepared, being considerate of other people’s time, leaving shared spaces in good order, and giving others our calm attention. In that sense, etiquette is not just about correct dojo behaviour; it is a way of refining conduct.
This is why the small actions are important. They shape the kind of person who can participate well in a shared practice, and they do so quietly, through repetition. Over time, the outer forms of etiquette train our inner state.
Closing thought
Your understanding of etiquette is based on your awareness and attention. It reveals your depth of engagement with the study.
Other students ignoring etiquette doesn’t mean it’s not important. It is.
Or that it’s optional. It isn’t.
On and off the mat, it is about becoming the kind of person who makes practice positive for others.