Status Anxiety: Karate lessons

Last Saturday, I took my six-year-old son and seven-year-old daughter to the gym at a local school so they could take a karate ‘exam’. If they passed, they would be eligible for a white belt with red stripes — the first rung of the ladder in the Shukokai Karate Association.

I have to confess to a certain scepticism about the usefulness of this ‘martial art’. I initially thought it might provide Sasha and Ludo with a way of fending off potential muggers, but I now realise it’s the karate instructors themselves who are doing the mugging. Apart from the cost of the weekly lessons (£10.90), there’s the kit (£26), the ‘master classes’ (£26) and the accessories (£££s). As if that isn’t enough, before you can take the exam you need to pay for a minimum of ten lessons (£109) and purchase an annual karate licence (£36). Oh, and the exam itself costs £26. There are 14 belts in total, so to reach the highest level — black belt with four red tabs — you need to shell out £364 in exam costs alone.

‘It’s a complete rip-off,’ I told Sasha when she was pleading with me to let her take the test.

‘Oh come on, Dad. We’ll look like idiots if we don’t have our red-and-white belts.’

‘On the contrary, the red-and-white belt is a sign that you’re an idiot for being suckered into this ridiculous Ponzi scheme.’

I lost the argument, obviously, but I wasn’t happy about it. On the way in to the gym I asked one of the officials if any child ever failed this ‘exam’. ‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘They all pass, even the littlest ones.’ She said this in a reassuring tone, as if I was concerned that my own jelly-limbed little brats might not be up to scratch.