Warning: Moderate spoilers for Superman (2025). Read at your own risk

In the new Superman movie, Lex Luthor unleashes Ultraman—a clone of Superman—against the Man of Steel. The problem is, Ultraman isn’t capable of thinking for himself. Every move he makes comes directly from Luthor’s constant stream of instructions. When Krypto the Superdog destroys the devices Luthor is using to feed commands, Ultraman is exposed for what he is: a one-dimensional fighter who crumbles without someone pulling the strings.

It’s a fun bit of comic-book drama, but it’s also a perfect metaphor for fencing coaching. Too often, coaches fall into the trap of becoming Lex Luthor—shouting out commands, dictating every action, and reducing their students to reactive clones. Instead of building self-reliant athletes who can think, adapt, and problem-solve on the strip, they create Ultramen: predictable, rigid, and lost without outside direction.

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The Lex Luthor Coaching Trap

When a coach constantly yells instructions—“Advance-lunge! Parry-four riposte! Fleche!”—they’re training their fencer to listen, not to think and feel. In practice, this may create short-term results: the fencer executes cleanly, wins some bouts, and looks sharp under supervision. But the long-term cost is steep and they become marionette puppets who flop to the ground when you sever their strings.

In competition, there’s no headset linking coach and athlete. Once the referee says “fence,” the strip belongs to the fencer alone. If they’ve never been taught to make decisions independently, they’ll look just like Ultraman without Luthor—flat, confused, and unable to adapt when their scripted plan falls apart.

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Superman Thinks For Himself

Superman doesn’t need Lex Luthor whispering in his ear—he thrives because he can analyze, adjust, and rely on his own instincts in the chaos of battle (until he gets exposed to kryptonite which is the dumbest superhero weakness ever conjured in the history of comics). That’s exactly what fencing demands. The strongest fencers are tactical problem-solvers. They recognize patterns, anticipate actions, and improvise solutions on the fly based on independence and “feeling.”

A coach’s role isn’t to spoon-feed every tactic and move, but to prepare athletes to make those decisions themselves. The goal is not to produce technically flawless robots, but resilient thinkers who can read an opponent, adjust strategy mid-bout, and take ownership of their fencing.

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Coaching for Independence

So how do we keep our fencers from becoming Ultramen?

• Ask questions, don’t just give answers. After a point, instead of telling the fencer what went wrong, ask: “What did you see? What was your plan? How could you adjust next time?”
• Simulate chaos in practice. Run drills where the fencer doesn’t know what’s coming and has to adapt in real time. Make them uncomfortable; that’s where problem-solving skills grow.
• Limit sideline coaching. During practice bouts, resist the urge to call out constant commands. Let fencers learn to navigate situations without your voice in their ear. It’s okay to make simple commands like “distance!” or “move your feet!” or “two meter zone!” but if you’re on a constant diatribe from the moment the ref calls “fence!” you’re doing it wrong.

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From Ultramen to Supermen

Every coach wants their students to succeed, but the path to real success isn’t through control—it’s through trust. Trust your fencers to think, to experiment, and yes, to fail. Those failures teach lessons no shouted command ever could.

If we over-coach, we risk turning our athletes into Ultramen: clones who can only function when told what to do. But if we step back, guide wisely, and empower them to take ownership, we raise Supermen: athletes who can soar on their own.