Gi vs No-Gi: You're Asking the Wrong Question

Leon Davis is a four-time No-Gi World Champion — three in his division, one in the absolute. A black belt under Roan "Jucao" Carneiro, Pete Jeffrey, April Parks, and me. Four different professors and teams, but we're all a part of the same team: Team Leon. Just as he's a part of all of our teams.

In 2024, he ran an IBJJF No-Gi Grand Slam: Brasileiro Champion, European National Champion, PAN Champion, World Champion.

Leon prefers no-gi. Competes no-gi. Trains almost exclusively no-gi.

When he needs additional skill development, what will he do? Train everything that works to help him win.

When he coaches his own students? He coaches wrestling, no-gi, AND gi. All of it. Because he sees what they need. He sees the gaps that gi training fills — the grip awareness, the patience, the positional discipline that no-gi speed can mask. Wrestling fills other gaps — the entries, the pressure, the chain of go-go-go that gi pace can hide. And no-gi? That's where he pressure-tests what they've learned. Faster transitions. Less to grab. Real-time reads.

Leon, like Jackie, like Nick, like me — and everyone I work with: whether it's gi, no-gi, self-defense, MMA, we don't fundamentally change what we do. We add or subtract things to amplify our influence. The components stay. The application scales.

Leon didn't choose a side. He chose to understand both. And that's the whole point.

The Short Answer: Train Both

Gi vs no-gi is the wrong question. The right question is whether you understand the principles that make both work. The components of jiu-jitsu—guarding (flexing and extending), self-framing, self-gripping, framing against your partner, gripping against your partner, plus your feet, ankles, and legs—don't change based on what you're wearing. What changes is the friction, the handles, and the pace. A mixed-method approach that trains both styles produces the most complete practitioner.

What Actually Changes

Here's what actually changes. It's a shorter list than most people expect.

That's it. Five things shift. Everything else stays.

What Doesn't Change

This is the list that matters.

The components of jiu-jitsu are the same in both. And not just both—they're the same across ALL disciplines. Gi, no-gi, self-defense, MMA, striking, everything.

• Guarding — flexing and extending your body to create and manage distance
• Self-framing — using your own structure to protect yourself
• Self-gripping — controlling your own body position
• Framing against your partner — creating barriers between you and them
• Gripping against your partner — controlling their position and movement

Your body has two responsibilities. Upper and lower.

Lower body — feet, ankles, knees, hips — frames. Grips. Creates angles.

Upper body — hands, wrists, elbows, shoulders — frames. Grips. Creates angles.

Same job. Different end of the body. They're not separate systems. They're one system expressed twice.

Every frame, every grip, every angle—it's all influence. Influence on yourself. Influence on your training partner. That's it. Two responsibility zones. One purpose.

These components don't change based on outfit. They don't change based on ruleset. They don't change based on whether someone is wearing a jacket or throwing punches. The principles I wrote about in Jiu-Jitsu Is Easy—the Three Things, "Am I safe?", the positional hierarchy—work identically across all of them. Playing guard on top works the same whether there's a collar to grab or not. Compact beats extended either way.

This is the diagnostic foundation. This is how Leon sees what his students need. This is how I see what any practitioner needs, regardless of what style they train. The components are the lens.

The underlying questions don't change either:

• "Am I safe?"
• "What three things can happen from here?"
• "Does this work for me, right now, against this resistance?"

Same question? Same question.

Too Much of Any Ingredient

Here's what most people miss, and it applies to both styles equally: too much of any single component is detrimental.

Think of gripping like investing. Every grip is a commitment—it costs you a hand. Commit two hands to grips without your legs doing productive work? That's overleveraged. You're in debt. The balance sheet has to work.

In the gi, people learn grips early. Collar grip, sleeve grip, pants grip. And they grip everything. The problem? The grip you think controls them actually controls you too. When you lock onto a collar grip, yes—you've got them. But you've also committed an entire hand to that grip. Your hand is tight, which means your legs need to be doing something productive (see hands tight, legs long). If both your hands are gripping and your legs aren't compensating? You're controlling them, but you're also stuck.

I can only control myself. I can only influence you.

A grip? That's influence—it affects them. But it also affects you. The control goes both ways.

This is why I teach the least amount of gi grips first. Not because grips don't matter—they matter enormously. But because if you build your game on grips before you understand framing, distance, and the components underneath, you're building on sand.

In no-gi, the opposite problem shows up. People grip—wrists, necks, underhooks—but most of them grip the same way gi people do when they're NOT aware of the nuances. Which direction is your hand facing? How many fingers are actually engaged? Why does thumb-up feel different from thumb-down? The grip science is its own study.

This is where gi training pays huge dividends for no-gi. Learning gi gripping—what to do AND what NOT to do—teaches you the mechanics underneath. You learn what a purposeful grip feels like. You learn what a wasted grip costs you. Take that awareness into no-gi and suddenly your wrist control, your underhooks, your body locks all get sharper. Not because no-gi gripping is different. Because you finally understand gripping itself.

(I'll go deep on grip science in a future article—sealed S-grip, latch grip, thumb direction, and why closed systems outperform open systems under load.)

Too much gi grip reliance makes you slow and predictable. Too much no-gi scrambling makes you sloppy and energy-wasteful. Don't beat yourself. The answer in both cases is the same: balance the assets.

Gi and No-Gi as Building Blocks

Here's another way to think about training:

Gi gives you the blocks. No-gi shows you what to build.

Training in the gi slows everything down. The friction creates drag. The grips create anchors. This is like adding weight in the gym—the resistance forces you to be more precise, more patient, more aware of where every grip goes and why. You learn the blocks.

Training no-gi strips the handles away. Now you have to build with what you've internalized. No collar to grab, no sleeve to anchor. Your framing has to work. Your hips have to be right. Your understanding has to be real, not dependent on fabric. You learn what to build.

Or think of it this way: gi is the weight room. No-gi is game day.

You don't just do game days. And you don't just lift weights. The combination produces the athlete.

Which Should You Start With?

Depends on why you're here.

If You're a Beginner or Training for Fun

Start wherever you'll actually show up. Consistency beats style selection every time. If the gi school is closer, go there. If the no-gi class fits your schedule, go there. You can always add the other format once training is a habit.

I've seen two paths to consistency, and both work:

Incremental: One less cheat day per week. One more class per month. Small adjustments that compound. Most people find their way here.

All-in: I woke up after high school graduation and was done. Track in the morning, weights in the afternoon, swimming at night. Immediately. No taper. No transition period.

Both paths lead to the same place. Pick yours and stay on it.

If You're Training for Self-Defense

Jiu-jitsu is an external amplifier of someone's internal persona. I give it to someone trying to defend themselves—it's good. I give it to a bad guy—that can make them more capable of being worse.

That's the burden. That's the responsibility.

For self-defense, you need both styles. Real confrontations involve clothing (gi principles) and bare skin (no-gi principles). The person grabbing your jacket is giving you gi handles. The moment they let go, you're in a no-gi exchange. You don't get to choose which one shows up.

Understanding the principles underneath both—Am I safe? What three things can happen?—is what actually prepares you. The style is secondary.

If You're Training for Competition

Here's where it gets nuanced. For world-class competitors, you need more SPP (specific physical preparation) than GPP (general physical preparation). If you compete no-gi, most of your training should be no-gi. If you compete in the gi, most of your training should be in the gi.

But here's the paradox: very specific GPP enhances champion-level skills. Gi training for a no-gi competitor IS specific GPP. It builds grip awareness, patience, and positional discipline that you can't get from no-gi alone. It forces you to deal with friction and control points that make your no-gi transitions sharper.

Leon figured this out. He's a four-time world champion who competes no-gi but coaches wrestling, no-gi, AND gi because he sees what each training method develops in his students—things they'd miss training any single style exclusively.

If You're Coaching

You need both. Period.

Your students will come to you with different goals—self-defense, competition, fitness, fun. If you only know one style, you're limited in what you can offer. And more importantly, you're limited in what you can see.

Leon coaches wrestling, no-gi, AND gi because he can see what students are missing in any single style. That diagnostic ability—seeing the gap between what someone does and what they need—comes from understanding the components underneath all of it. Not picking a style. Understanding the principles.

The Layers in Practice

Talk is easy. Here's what mixing actually looks like in my classes.

I layer training methods on purpose.

Gi with no-gi grips. Wear the gi, but only use no-gi gripping—wrists, underhooks, body locks. No collar, no sleeve, no pants. The gi is still there creating friction and drag, but you can't use it. This forces you to build your game on framing and body mechanics instead of handles.

You can run this as a stop drill: if someone makes a grip and holds it for three seconds or more, stop. Reset in place. Acknowledge it. Then continue. Or you can let it run all the way through and just be aware of when grips happen. Either way, the point is the same—when you go back to using gi grips after a round of this, every grip you take is a choice, not a habit.

One partner wears gi, one doesn't. This is asymmetry on purpose. The no-gi player actually has grips available that the gi player doesn't—because both are restricted to no-gi gripping only, but the no-gi player can freely grab wrists, collar ties, and underhooks, while the gi player has all that fabric creating friction and drag in tighter positions. The gi player has to deal with extra resistance in close quarters. The no-gi player has to deal with someone who's harder to move once they're connected.

Both people are solving a different problem in the same exchange. Both people learn something they can't learn when the conditions are even.

Gi top, no-gi bottom. Wear the gi jacket but no-gi pants, or vice versa. Now different parts of the body play by different rules in the same round. Your upper body has handles. Your lower body doesn't. This teaches you to feel where the friction is and where it isn't—in real time, on the same body.

Anchor and Influence. Both hands committed to the end of a lapel. That's where you start. At some point, one hand comes off—and it has to become something. A frame against yourself. A frame against your training partner. An open hand with no grip. Or a grip somewhere new. Meanwhile, the lower body moves independently or with the rest of the body.

Once someone gets more aware of this drill, they start noticing where their hands need to be. Where their thumbs are pointing. Where their fingers are. Where their head is. Where their body needs to face. You can also run this with the belt instead of the lapel—same idea, different anchor point.

We'll cover this more in-depth in a future article.

Belt Collector. One person wears a gi but no belt. The other wears no-gi but ties a belt around their waist. The gi player's job: get the belt off the no-gi person and tie it on themselves. The no-gi player's job: keep the belt.

The grip rules are asymmetric on purpose. The no-gi player can use everything—no-gi grips, gi grips, lapel, frames, whatever they want. The gi player can only use belt grips, no-gi grips, and frames. No grabbing the gi player's own lapel or collar. The person with fewer options has to solve the harder problem.

Start simple: live roll, time-based, any position, no submissions. Just get the belt. This is pure problem-solving with constraints. The gi player has to create angles, manage distance, and find the belt while someone actively defends it. The no-gi player has to use every advantage they have—and they have many—to keep what's theirs.

Then layer.

Add submissions for the no-gi player only. Now the gi player has to solve two problems at once—get the belt AND stay safe. "Am I safe?" runs constantly while the hands hunt.

Narrow the positions. Start the gi player in bottom closed guard with the no-gi player on top. Now there's a specific problem: get the belt from underneath while someone has gravity and grip advantage.

Add time pressure. Sixty seconds to get the belt from a specific position. The clock creates urgency. Urgency reveals habits. Habits reveal gaps.

Open up the no-gi player's options fully: pass guard, take the back, submit. The gi player has to prevent ALL of that AND get the belt. They can play from any position—top, bottom, doesn't matter—but the belt is the objective, not the position.

Run it from the top. Gi player starts in half guard, knee on belly, mount, or back control. They can't get swept, can't get their back taken, can't get submitted. They have to maintain AND collect. Two objectives that compete for the same hands.

Here's the flip: let the gi player choose to give up top position. Now it's a trade—give up safety for access. Position before submission in reverse. The person who can read when to sacrifice position for the objective and when to hold is the person who understands the drill.

There's another layer here: whose belt? The no-gi player can wear their own belt—now the gi player is collecting someone else's rank, taking something that was never theirs. Or the no-gi player can wear the gi player's belt—and now it's a recovery mission, taking back what already belongs to them.

These two versions hit differently. Some people are more motivated chasing what they've never had. Others fight harder to reclaim what's already theirs.

And the belt's color adds another variable. A blue belt chasing a black belt's rank plays differently than a blue belt chasing another blue belt's—one is aspirational, the other is territorial. A blue belt reaching for a brown belt feels the pull of the next milestone. A white belt trying to collect a blue belt is grabbing at something they haven't earned yet, and that tension between where they are and where they want to be creates urgency you can't manufacture any other way.

You'll learn something about your practitioners by which version they prefer. There's research on this—the endowment effect, loss aversion, territorial behavior in competition, social comparison dynamics, the goal gradient effect where effort spikes as you approach a target—that supports what you'll see on the mat: ownership changes effort, and so does proximity to rank.

This is Control vs Influence made physical. The no-gi player controls the belt—it's on them, it's theirs to lose. The gi player can only influence the exchange. Every grip, every angle, every transition is influence. And the no-gi player's defense? That's control. They're controlling the belt by controlling the gi player's ability to access it. Both people are learning something about what they actually own and what they can only affect. (For another constraint-based approach to grip development, see The 5-Grip Challenge.)

Every layer changes the problem. Every problem reveals a gap. And every gap becomes a skill—if you're paying attention.

Does it work for me, right now, against this resistance? That question doesn't care what you're wearing. It cares whether you understand the components underneath.

Where You'll Land

If you train long enough and think about it honestly, you'll arrive at the same place most serious practitioners do:

A mixed-method model that's as agnostic as possible but as scalable as possible to where you want to be.

That's the destination. Train both. Understand the principles underneath both. Then scale toward your goals—more gi if you compete gi, more no-gi if you compete no-gi, both if you want the most complete game.

Don't pick a side. Understand both sides well enough that the question stops mattering.

Once you see that the components are the same—guarding, framing, gripping, feet and legs—and that only the friction, handles, and pace change, the gi vs no-gi debate dissolves. It was never about the uniform. It was always about the principles.

And once you see it, you can't unsee it.

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Stop debating outfits. Start understanding principles. The framework doesn't change—only the friction does.

Ready to stop debating outfits and see what the principles look like in practice? Book a private lesson.

If you want to understand the guard mechanics that work in gi and no-gi, start with Playing Guard on Top. And if you're choosing where to train in New Jersey, here's how to pick the right academy.

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George Samuelson is a second-degree black belt under Dante Rivera and Ricardo Almeida (lineage: Renzo Gracie). Known as "Dante Rivera's First Black Belt," he has coached IBJJF World medalists, UFC fighters, and practitioners at every level. He has promoted two black belts himself, including a world champion. George teaches at Ocean County BJJ in Forked River, NJ and Dante Rivera BJJ in Howell, NJ.