This is probably the most referred-to term in the entire industry — and yet it’s the least defined. The phrase “remember your technique” is thrown around like scripture, but here’s the uncomfortable truth:
👉 There is no universal technique document.
👉 Most references are either outdated, inconsistent, or outright wrong.
👉 It's not based on physics, math or provability (this is 2025 for heavens sake)
What dancers revere as “technique” is often little more than the ghosts of two mid-20th-century publications — Alex Moore’s notes (what he thought he saw) and the ISTD book (what examiners needed to grade). Neither offers an actual framework for why the movement works, or how to execute it biomechanically.
Alex Moore (1930s–40s): Observed dancers and wrote down what he saw. Brilliant for its time, but purely descriptive. No physics, no biomechanics, no “how.”
ISTD Technique (from 1948 onward): A teaching and exam manual. Codified steps, alignments, footwork. But errors crept in, and many remain uncorrected. Worse, it froze dance into a bureaucratic standard.
“Technique” is often used as a cudgel: if you don’t comply, you’re “wrong” — even when the book itself is inaccurate.
Teachers use “remember your technique” as a get-out-of-jail-free card when they can’t explain the mechanics.
Actual biomechanics — forces, inertia, balance, torque — are missing from the official texts.
If technique means “the repeatable method by which dancers achieve consistent biomechanical results,” then the field has to evolve. That means:
If “technique” is so riddled with errors and half-truths, why hasn’t the industry corrected it? The uncomfortable answer is simple:
Updating the technique would mean admitting that past champions taught mistakes.
At $150 for a 45-minute lesson, nobody wants to say “sorry, I was wrong for 20 years.”
To admit error is to undercut one’s legacy — and most “names” would rather protect their brand than confront fix the truth.
Many celebrity teachers and coaches don’t actually know the biomechanics or science. Would you fly in a plane with a pilot who thinks the world is flat? So why would you pay for a class from someone who can't prove they know the foundations?
They can do it, but they can’t explain it — so they parrot “remember your technique” rather than risk revealing the gaps.
As long as “technique” remains an undefined sacred cow, lessons keep selling.
“Technique” is invoked like a religious rite: unquestionable, vague, and profitable.
Why risk killing the golden goose? If everyone agrees that nobody really knows, then everybody gets to keep charging. Who cares if the students suffer because there is nowhere for them to get better information (until now).
Different schools, studio chains, federations, and competition circuits can’t agree — partly because agreement would shift power and money.
So instead of one modern, science-based text, we get splinter groups clinging to 1948 doctrine.
👉 That makes “technique” less a foundation of ballroom and more a convenient fiction — one that props up egos, hides ignorance, and fuels an industry built on vagueness.
| Myth (Industry Line) | Reality (What’s Really Happening) | Why It Persists |
|---|---|---|
| “Technique is the foundation of all ballroom.” | There is no unified document that actually defines it. Alex Moore described what he saw dancers doing, and the ISTD book (1948) has barely been touched since. | Vague authority = infinite flexibility. Teachers can claim anything aligns with “technique.” |
| “Our technique is based on tradition and refinement.” | Tradition = errors fossilized into gospel. Many sections are outdated, biomechanically wrong, or contradictory. | Fixing it would mean admitting decades of mistakes — a career-killer. |
| “Champions prove the technique works.” | Champions win because they’re gifted movers who figured things out in spite of bad documentation. Most couldn’t write a biomechanical explanation if their trophy depended on it. | Hero worship. If the champ did it, it must be right — even if the explanation is nonsense. |
| “Technique unites the dance world.” | In reality, each federation interprets “technique” differently, with politics driving differences more than biomechanics. | Fragmentation keeps federations relevant. Disagreement = power and money. |
| “Technique is how we teach precision.” | Precision comes from biomechanics and physics, not mystical phrases like “keep your frame” or “remember your technique.” | The “cash cow effect”: as long as “technique” is vague, lessons and coachings keep selling. |
“Technique” is less a foundation of ballroom than a smokescreen of authority — one that hides ignorance, protects egos, and keeps the money flowing.