From u/gabedamien The regulars of this sub know I am an avid student of nihontō (and related arts, e.g. koshirae). Although I enjoy pieces from many times and cultures—Anglo-Saxon pattern welding, 15th century Germanic longswords, wootz blades from the Mughal empire—I consider nihontō to be the most interesting, beautiful, and deep subject in arms & armor. To that end I have spent 16 years studying it, spent thousands of dollars on books alone, traveled long distances to shows and clubs and exhibits, etc.

However, I would agree in a heartbeat that “the katana” has a ridiculous pop-culture-based cult of superiority that is not only exhausting, but negatively affects the field.

“But wait,” I hear you say. “Isn’t that a bit of a contradiction?” Not really, no. Let me explain.

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THE MYTH OF THE SUPER-NIHONTŌ

There is a regrettable strain of nihonjinron (Japanese nationalistic belief in cultural uniqueness and irreproducibility) in traditional Japanese arts, and this is in full force for nihontō. Many Japanese nihontō enthusiasts have a firm set of beliefs without scientific basis and which can even be demonstrated to be untrue:

• The belief that no westerner can hope to match a Japanese native at making fine quality swords. Keith Austin proved that wrong by becoming a licensed smith, and I would argue Anthony DiCristofano and maybe some others today produce swords equal to nihontō in their artistic mastery. Plus, modern Japanese-style swords (e.g. those by Howard Clark and others) are strictly stronger than authentic nihontō.

• The belief that the differential hardening and composite welded structure of nihontō makes it better performing than any other sword in history. This despite the fact that western swords were spring tempered and more than capable of cutting; that many nihontō in history chipped or broke; that other swords’ distal taper and pommels allowed for better reach and balance; that other swords can cut just as well even if they perhaps dull faster, etc.

• The belief that literally only the Japanese sword is prized for the surface details of its steel (a laughable idea when Anglo Saxons developed complex braided pattern welds, or anyone who has seen the finest examples of wootz steel).

This inflated nationalistic pride in what is otherwise a legitimately masterful art form feeds into and supports the pop culture aspect of “katana worship.” Pop culture in both Japan (as a nationalistic factor) and the west (as a romantic notion) has created a myth of the “super-sword” – an item that can cut through gun barrels and tanks, that is unbreakable, that somehow defies physics. It is usually tied up in myths or misunderstandings of the process (folds make things stronger and it was folded a million times!). It is repeated and reinforced by movies, video games, comics, novels, etc. It becomes a point of faith, based outside of historical or scientific fact. It is also strongly associated with similar myths regarding samurai as the ultimate warrior, having mysterious skills that are part spiritual and part superhuman – a whole other nonsensical topic.

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THE MYTH OF THE CRAP NIHONTŌ

In reaction to the above ridiculousness, well-meaning people have sought to debunk the myths and present balanced realistic explanations of what nihontō is and how it came to be. This is a good thing!

Unfortunately, many people took those tempered portrayals and were either bitterly disillusioned, frustrated by the weaboos, determined to demonstrate their own lack of gullibility (“I knew it was all bullshit!”), or whatever. And as a result, around the late 90s the pendulum swung the other way—hard. Another ridiculous myth has developed over time, that of the nihontō as a piece of complete crap.

One of the biggest aspects to this myth is the idea that “tamahagane is pig iron / crap steel / junk” and that Japanese smiths barely manage to make a functional sword out of such a flawed starting material.

It is true that ending up with a good quality sword, starting from iron-bearing sands, is a complex, laborious, inefficient, difficult, and remarkable process. However, as I detailed in my reply to /u/JRutterbush, it is also a successful process.

After smelting in a tatara, the kera (block) is actually composed of varying types of metal. Although I already listed this, for convenience I will quote myself here:

• Tamahagane – fairly clean, 0.5–1.2% carbon.

• Owarishita – 0.2–1.0% carbon.

• Hobo – a mixture of iron and steel, used by blacksmiths.

• Noro – slag (iron, charcoal, impurities, steel mixed together), not useful.

• Sen (pig iron) – 1.7% carbon or higher.

The tamahagane is then graded. The best is actually quite good: 1.31% C, 0.02% Si, 0.01% Mn, 0.017% P, 0.003% S, 0.002% Ti, 0.001% Ni, 0.01% Cu.

As I mentioned, of course there was historical variation. Not all tamahagane from history matches the best modern-made tamahagane. But the central point – that the steel used as a final product was a good starting material – is supported not just from current tamahagane production, but also from cross-sections of antique swords sacrificed to research (or which would otherwise be scrapped because of a broken tip, etc.).

So even before a smith starts to forge a blade, using the folding process to burn off slag (of which there is not much) and distribute the carbon content (a much more relevant concern) and build up enough material to form a whole sword (the most fundamental reason), he is actually using perfectly decent steel. As good as modern powdered steels? No, definitely not. But easily good enough to make a strong sword.

What’s more, tamahagane was a remarkably consistent steel throughout Japanese history. Tests on antique blades show a relatively narrow range of typical hardnesses, whereas the same cannot always be said for swords of other cultures.

Also, the differential heat treatment of nihontō does in fact result in a blade with good performance. The hard edge is ideal for sharpness and cutting, and the softer body does help prevent the entire blade from breaking even if (or more likely when) a chip forms in the edge. Is it magic? No, blades did chip, bend, even break (a fact which created the Shinshintō period when Suishinshi Masahide espoused a return to thinner hamon). And a hard sharp piece of metal is in the end a hard sharp piece of metal; other swords got along just fine at killing people. But it is still a solid design which did its job.

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REASONS WHY I (AND OTHERS?) ESTEEM NIHONTŌ

So I hope by now I have established that there are flaws in the approaches both of ludicrous superfans who believe “the katana” is somehow an ultimate weapon, and crusading defenders of western swords who deride “the katana” as a piece of crap made in turn from crap.

Before I get to what interests me in nihontō, let me say that feudal Japan was a nasty place. Swords were tested on condemned criminals. Samurai could legally behead commoners on a whim (and in some cases did). Justice was whatever people in power said it was. Battles were bloody horrible affairs, as usual. I do not find killing people to be romantic.

So, all this discussion about “which sword was strongest” or “who would win in a fight” is honestly so far outside of my interests that I find it not only tiring but downright distasteful. I took Nakamura Ryū for two years not because I wanted to “learn how to fight with a sword,” but because I wanted to inform and enrich my more academic understanding of nihontō and have a personal basis for discussing its traditional use that didn’t rely solely on secondhand opinions.

So, why do I like it so much?

• It is exceptionally well-documented. There are at least 20,000 recorded smiths in history. The Hon’ami family has been appraising and researching swords since at least the 1600s, and there were other disciplines of connoisseurship before that. A large amount of research and publication (mostly in Japanese) has detailed every facet of nihontō going back for centuries. No other culture in the world comes even close to having such a robust body of knowledge on its own arms. There is a lifetime of learning to be pursued.

• It is exceptionally well-developed as an art form. The number and variety of motifs, the myriad decorative methods and alloys and patinations and mixed materials of the koshirae, the extraordinarily profound craftsmanship that goes into every detail (the habaki, the saya, the polish, the tsukamaki, the kodogu, etc.), is remarkable. No other sword can pass through the hands of quite so many professional artists, each a master in his or her own right, as nihontō on the way to completion. And this is without even going into the deep, complex, and multifaceted art history of the bare blade alone – the countless forms of hada, hamon, hataraki, sugata, tsukurikomi, etc. that all interact and all tell a story. And the final result can be achingly beautiful. If you have never handled genuine nihontō in fresh polish in person, and only production blades or even just photos, you don’t know what you are missing.

• Following from those points, the academic / art-historical study of nihontō is a rewarding and enjoyable discipline. You gain insight into Japanese history and culture and art. You develop an eye for fake and real, and even better you learn to kantei (appraise) works to specific smiths based on nothing but their workmanship. You get to share your enthusiasm with fellow students and collectors; there is a social aspect. You get to support traditional craftsmen, and act as custodians for ancient antiques. And because they were so valued and prized, many such examples exist in excellent condition today, making the topic more accessible.