Rethinking “Bad Technique” Through a Modern Coaching Lens
In a recent episode of My Tennis Coaching Podcast, your go-to resource for all things tennis coaching. I, was addressing a long-standing myth in tennis: that beginners have “bad technique.”
After 24 years and over 36,000 lessons delivered, I’ve seen thousands of beginners—both juniors and adults—take their first swing at tennis. The assumption? That awkward, stiff movements mean they need technique correction. But what if that’s completely the wrong approach?
Let’s unpack this misconception using principles from Ecological Dynamics, Ecological Psychology, and the Constraints-Led Approach (CLA).
Do Beginners Really Have Bad Technique?
When a beginner walks onto court, their movements often appear robotic or uncoordinated. No hip rotation, no shoulder-to-shoulder flow, no ground force transfer—none of the hallmarks you’d expect from watching Wimbledon. So, coaches often jump in to “correct” technique.
But here’s the reality: what you’re seeing isn’t poor technique. It’s the natural self-organization of a system trying to solve a new problem. And this concept was made famous by Russian scientist Nikolai Bernstein in the 1930s.
Enter: Bernstein and the Degrees of Freedom Problem
Bernstein posed a crucial question: “How does the human body control all the possible movements of its many joints and muscles to perform a skillful action?”
Through his now-famous blacksmith experiment, he discovered:
- Novice performers show more consistency (repetition) in their movements.
- Experts show more variability, adjusting their actions to context.
This blew apart the assumption that expertise = repetition. In fact, the human system thrives on adaptable variability.
Why Do Beginners Move Stiffly?
The body has too many degrees of freedom—joints, muscles, tendons, and neural pathways. When faced with a new task (like serving), the system “freezes” certain degrees to simplify control.
That stiffness? It’s the system intelligently reducing complexity. As players explore and gain experience, they releasedegrees of freedom. Movement becomes more fluid—not because they were taught to swing like Federer, but because their body found functional solutions.
The Coach’s Role: Not to Control, But to Design
Traditional coaching often interrupts this natural learning:
- “Put your foot here.”
- “Toss the ball like this.”
- “Use a continental grip.”
These corrections add complexity and can hinder learning. Instead, ecological coaching asks:
- Can we set a task that invites the right action?
- Can we design an environment that guides exploration?
For example:
If a player decelerates their serve out of fear, I don’t instruct them to swing faster. I enlarge the service box to encourage acceleration. The task releases their swing—without technical commands.
Movement vs. Technique: Why the Language Matters
People often accuse ecological coaches of ignoring technique. Not true. We constantly observe and adjust movement. The difference is, we don’t impose an ideal form—we facilitate adaptation.
I’m still using biomechanics. I’m still avoiding injury risks. But instead of telling players how to move, I shape the environment so the body finds effective movement on its own.
Repetition Without Repetition
Many coaches still believe in the myth of repetition. But repeating the exact same serve increases injury risk and reduces adaptability. Players need repetition without repetition—functional variability across different contexts.
Each serve is unique. You can never hit the same serve twice.
This variability makes players more adaptable under pressure.
So What About Beginners?
When you see a clunky beginner:
- It’s not failure.
- It’s not bad technique.
- It’s a system solving a problem with the tools it has.
Your job isn’t to impose a model. It’s to guide attention, design meaningful constraints, and let the solution emerge.
Final Thought: Respect the System
If you’re still teaching beginners by rigid technical models, it might be time to rethink your approach. Ecological coaching honors the way humans actually learn and move.
It’s not about style. It’s about function. It’s not about copying. It’s about discovering. It’s not about the coach. It’s about the player.
Let the system explore. Let coordination emerge. Because often, what looks like bad technique is just the beginning of skilled movement waiting to unfold.