We’re continuing this series on the myths surrounding shibari. In this installment, we’re tackling the meaning and use of Japanese terms like shibari and kinbaku, among others.
A Muddle of Terminology
We’re dealing with Japanese terminology filtered through English-speaking lenses, which often reaches us distorted, like a game of telephone.
This middleman effect creates a slew of terms that end up being used not for what they truly are or mean, but as altered versions—sometimes tweaked on purpose.
I’m talking about the deliberate mix-up between shibari, kinbaku, and bondage, with other terms occasionally thrown in opportunistically, hoping to strike a chord and boost sales.
To get a clearer picture, it’s worth remembering that Japanese is a deeply contextual language: what’s happening, who’s involved, the setting, and how the action unfolds are all key to giving a word or phrase its meaning.
To make things trickier, the “Japanese scene” has its own slang, which varies by region and is constantly evolving.
So, plucking words out of context and treating them as fixed, concrete concepts might work for classical Greek or Latin in scientific texts, but it falls apart in everyday language.
It’s amusing to note that in Japan, shibari is often just called bondage, while in the West, we call bondageshibari—probably because it sounds more exotic and sophisticated.
The truth is straightforward: shibari and kinbaku are Japanese words that, in many contexts, are used interchangeably to refer to the Japanese style of bondage.
- Shibari (verb) simply means “to tie” or “to bind” things together.
- Kinbaku (noun) refers to “tying” or “binding” something more intensely.
In the slang of the scene, shibari is the catch-all term, while kinbaku hints at a practice with a deeper emotional charge—a difference more of nuance than of substance.
It makes sense to conceptually separate shibari and kinbaku from Western bondage, since the latter covers a wide range of practices like restraints with chains, latex encasement, or sensory deprivation.
So, while all shibari is bondage, not all bondage is shibari.
Rigid vs. Open Definitions
Here’s where things get slippery: the realm of identity-based sexualities, where people often build their sense of self around their practices.
The trouble starts when shibari is approached through an identity lens: people try to draw hard lines around what is or isn’t shibari, falling into traps like, “Shibari has to be the way I say, or it’s not.”
This mindset not only impoverishes the practice but, in the worst cases, can lead to abuse.
On the flip side, you’ve got folks who want to call anything done with ropes “shibari”—including stuff like macramé.
Our Approach
At our school, we go for operational definitions: clear, precise descriptions of the concept, with criteria that aim to include as many valid cases as possible while reasonably ruling out what clearly doesn’t fit, steering clear of personal tastes or whims.
Our definition of shibari includes:
- Its roots in traditional gremiun (and, to a lesser extent, martial arts).
- The harmonious and natural use of the body, prioritizing ergonomics.
- The incorporation of geometries in visual compositions and rope patterns.
- The use of ropes (another myth in itself).
- Its Japanese origin, at least historically.
Of course, other schools or individuals might have different definitions and apply shibari or kinbaku to practices that differ significantly from ours.
You’ll come across purist takes, dogmatic ones, commercial spins, or just personal perspectives. And that’s fine.
The issue crops up when someone new to shibari runs into conflicting definitions and ends up confused.
But honestly, it’s not much different from trying to pick a new appliance and wading through online reviews: contradictory opinions, clashing criteria, and, in the end, the need to make your own call.
Nothing new under the sun.