Of course the instructor said that taekwondo is superior. He was trying to sell you something (i.e., his class). But if two masters of different martial arts decide to fight, the result will not be determined by which art each one practices. The result will be determined by a combination of who has practiced more and luck. (Luck cannot be eliminated from a fight. It can only be mitigated. This is true no matter how much and what kind of training someone has.)
There’s an unfortunate tendency among certain people in the martial arts community to obsess over which style is better (@jerv makes a very important point on this matter when he notes that the concept of “triumph” has no real place in serious martial arts). Ultimately, this insistence on ranking different arts often reveals a fundamental ignorance about other styles—one that is typically based more on rumor and stereotypes than facts. But in the end, different styles are just that: different. That doesn’t mean that one is better. In fact, many of them teach roughly the same things, but in a different order and putting emphasis on different elements.
A stock example here is that karate starts with straight line movement and eventually teaches you circles, whereas kung fu starts with circular movements and eventually teaches you straight lines. The example is an oversimplification, but it gets at the basic point (which is that they both get you to a similar place by way of different paths). Not all martial arts focus on the same things, of course, and not all will lead you to roughly the same place via different roads. But even then there tends to be significant overlap in both goals and technique.
Another important factor here is that there’s only so much you can know about a school by the way it names its style. There are (at least) two reasons for this. The first is that most martial arts have “sport” versions and “practical” versions. Sport versions tend to be “purer” because they are designed to help you compete against people using the same techniques. Practical versions tend to be a bit more hybridized because they are designed to help you compete against people using different techniques.
The second is that a particular style’s historical name might not match up with modern labels. In the past, there was a lot of trading of techniques. But those who would impose a categorization schema upon all martial arts have difficulty accounting for this fact. Case in point: I study three martial arts (karate, kendo, and Jeet Kune Do). But the style of karate I study is a “practical” version of Korean origin. It includes a lot of striking techniques (as a modern martial arts taxonomist would expect), but it also involves a lot of locks and throws.
In fact, if a modern martial arts taxonomist were to look at it, they would probably call it Tang Soo Do. And in fact, the style was once called Tang Soo Do. But the Japanese pronunciation of the characters for “Tang Soo Do” is ”karate-do.” And in places like the US, it was once common for the word “karate” to be applied to any martial art that involved striking techniques. So when our style moved to the US, the master who came here (speaking five languages, but English being the last and weakest of them) just went with it when people told him the English word for what he was practicing was “karate.”
Incidentally, this has led to disagreements with a friend of mine who does judo. He likes to say that he can beat any karate technique—because he thinks karate is only striking. When I started doing karate, he challenged me to some light sparring. The moment he got a grab on me he said “the problem with your martial art is that it has no response to this simple move.” So I threw him. This led to him protesting that I had cheated because “that move wasn’t real karate.” Well, too bad. It’s part of the karate I learned.
A similar thing is true about the style of kendo I practice. It is not sport kendo. In fact, it would be better described as kenjutsu. But again, when the style moved to the US, local conditions led to it being referred to as “kendo” (mostly because no one in the area back then knew what kenjutsu was, but had a vague idea of what kendo was). These sorts of historical facts muddy up any attempt to make blanket statements about what a particular style is or does based solely on its name.
So in short, I would recommend you dispense with all notions of one style being better than another. Instead, focus on the specific school in front of you. Does it seem legitimate? Does it seem interesting (i.e., does it offer what you’re looking for with regard to what it teaches and how it is taught)? Those are the things that matter.
@CWOTUS There are several martial arts based on the notion of “fights don’t follow rules.” I practice three of them. So while your comments apply to some martial arts, they are equally misrepresentations of others. In fact, everything you have attributed to “self-defense classes” has been taught in my martial arts class (and quite early). As one master instructor of mine is fond of saying: “The first rule of martial arts is don’t be there. The rest of what we learn concerns what to do when you fail to follow this rule.” And yes, we learn quite a bit about avoidance. In fact, almost all of the “practical self-defense” classes taught in this city are taught by one of our instructors. (And the one that isn’t makes the absurd promise that it can teach you how to defend yourself from guns, knives, and grabs all in one three-hour session.)
@jerv Notice that @Seek never said that all TKD dojos are McDojos. She said that most McDojos are TKD dojos.