Corrective Without the Complex — Pilates as Corrective Exercise
I often find myself falling down social media rabbit holes. Sometimes, I surface with something worthwhile, but more often than not, it’s the usual bickering, pissing contests, and bold claims dressed up as insight. Underneath the surface, what’s left is the mad dash for relevance, money, and followers. And, while there’s plenty of encouraging fitness pro chatter about overcoming imposter syndrome, I can’t help but think the industry might also benefit from a little more humility.
Take, for example, a recent post I saw claiming there is no such thing as corrective exercise. The argument states that calling something “corrective” implies a person is broken or that there’s a “right” and “wrong” way to move, and thusly, that this binary framing is harmful or outdated.
Now, I don’t typically put much stock into what I read online and more specifically, social media, but this one stuck with me, maybe because I’ve referred to the Pilates method as corrective for years. Or, maybe because it’s another example of a false argument built on a partial definition. I call bullshit.
You can’t take a sliver of a definition and pretend it’s the whole truth.
The post in question reduced the concept of “corrective exercise” to telling people what they’re doing wrong. But if you actually take the time to understand what the term means in context, you’ll find something more layered. The nuance this social media account claimed is missing is already there. Corrective doesn’t mean pointing fingers. It means supporting improvement. Facilitating progress. Helping a person restore functionality, balance, and connection through thoughtful movement over time.
Which brings me to Pilates, and specifically, the way I was taught by Jay Grimes and the way I continue to teach today.
Jay used to say that constantly picking at someone isn’t teaching: it’s annoying. It interrupts learning. He taught us to minimize instruction, and instead provide guidance a student could actually use. Knowing when someone is ready to progress—and when they’re not—is part of what separates good teaching from noisy instruction.
And in that sense, Pilates is corrective, but not in the shallow, reductive way that post insinuates.
The Pilates Method was designed to correct your movement.
Not by “fixing” isolated flaws. But by bringing the body into balance over time through consistent, whole-body work.
One of my most trusted mentors, Sandy Shimoda, puts it this way:
“Rather than endeavoring to correct every part of your movement superficially, you allow the regular repetition of Joe’s exercise to correct your functioning over time.”
In other words, the correction comes not from nitpicking or personal judgment, but from the method itself. When practiced with commitment and clarity, Contrology teaches the body to move in a new way. It’s not about your teacher telling you what’s broken. It’s about your body learning how to move better.
And yes, words matter.
I’m a Pilates teacher, yes. But I’m also someone who deals in words for a living. So, when someone chooses to dismantle a concept by oversimplifying the definition, ignoring the rhetorical situation, and cherry-picking the weakest form of the idea to make it easier to attack, I take notice.
For clarity’s sake: if the definition of corrective is “to improve something or make it right” then that’s exactly what the Pilates method sets out to do. Joe Pilates himself believed his system would improve your health, your posture, your strength, and your vitality. He promised transformation, not perfection.
Transformation is a form of correction. It is most certainly intended to improve something or make it right. Otherwise, why do it at all?
So no, I won’t be retiring the term “corrective exercise” anytime soon. Because when taught with skill, respect for the lineage, and clarity of purpose, Pilates absolutely earns that name.