The controversial businessman who claimed 3,000 hours of “thinking about BJJ” now offers advice on skill development – but his latest comments raise more questions than answers.
Derek Moneyberg is back with more ‘insights’ into his grappling journey. This time, he’s reflecting on skill development and the humbling reality of his first year on the mats. But given his history of questionable claims, the BJJ community should take his latest pronouncements with a massive grain of salt.
In his most recent video, Moneyberg paints himself as just another beginner who endured the traditional gauntlet:
“I got beat up by smaller guys for the whole first year.”
He describes getting submitted repeatedly by opponents of all sizes, including a memorable tap to Michelle Waterson, a 130-pound woman who caught him in a modified omoplata.
“When somebody comes over and messes you up eight times the same way, you’re like, ‘All right, how do I fix that?'”
Moneyberg explains, positioning himself as someone who approached defeats analytically, treating each submission as a learning opportunity rather than a personal failure.
His three-year progression follows a predictable narrative arc:
“For the first year it’s just humiliating. And then for the second year it still sucks but it’s less humiliating. And then in your third year then I started feeling pretty good.”
On the surface, this sounds like every BJJ practitioner’s experience – the universal story of showing up, getting destroyed, making incremental improvements and slowly developing competence. It’s relatable It’s exactly what you’d want to hear from someone reflecting on their journey.
There’s just one problem: this is the same guy who previously claimed he should get credit for 3,000 hours of “thinking about jiu-jitsu” when he wasn’t training.
Moneyberg first drew widespread criticism when he defended his 3.5-year black belt promotion by arguing that mental processing time should count toward martial arts development.
“I spent more than 3,000 hours when I wasn’t training—thinking about it and making the adjustments in my head, watching tape,”
he told Jake Shields on a podcast.
“And a lot of it is thinking about it. People don’t understand, like, processing through your head.”
This wasn’t presented as supplementary training – it was offered as justification for a promotion timeline that the BJJ community found absurd. When critics pointed to traditional timelines, Moneyberg‘s response was combative:
“So when some other person says, like, ‘You know, it took me 13 years,’ like, you know, ‘That’s not legit,’ like—no, a**hole, it took you 13 years. Doesn’t mean it’ll take me 13 years.”
His coach, Jake Shields, attempted to validate this approach by describing five-hour private sessions where Moneyberg would “stare off into space” while “mapping the stuff out in his head.” Shields claimed that Moneyberg‘s “brain worked different” and that he could see him “compounding stuff” during these extended mental processing sessions.
The BJJ community responded with overwhelming skepticism. ADCC veteran Vinny Magalhaes delivered perhaps the most pointed critique, suggesting financial incentives influenced the promotion:
“The hardest thing about promotions like this? It’s not just about being or getting elevated–it’s the entire bloodline,”
he wrote, with commentary about loyalty to “someone’s Zelle account.”
This context makes Moneyberg‘s latest reflections on skill development deeply problematic. Yes, his description of the first year sounds accurate. Yes, his three-year progression framework mirrors what many practitioners experience at least in part. Yes, the advice to treat defeats as learning opportunities is sound.
But it’s coming from someone who has demonstrated a pattern of inflating his achievements, making implausible claims about his abilities and dismissing legitimate criticism with hostility.
When Moneyberg says he “got beat up by smaller guys for the whole first year,” he’s telling a story every grappler recognizes. When he describes a systematic approach to addressing weaknesses, he’s articulating reasonable training methodology. When he outlines the emotional arc from humiliation to competence, he’s capturing something real about BJJ development. Yet it counters Jake Shields’ claims that Moneyberg refused to train with regular blue and purple belts and instead stuck to privates.
The problem isn’t that these observations are wrong – it’s that they’re undermined by everything else he’s said. How seriously can we take skill development advice from someone who thinks sitting around thinking about jiu-jitsu for 3,000 hours justifies an accelerated black belt?
Traditional BJJ timelines exist for a reason. They reflect not arbitrary gatekeeping but the accumulated wisdom of generations of practitioners about how long it actually takes to develop legitimate black belt-level skills. When someone circumvents those timelines and then offers advice about “the journey,” it rings hollow regardless of how relatable the individual observations might be.
