If skill in fiction must always follow a real-world causal chain, then rain-dodging, bullet-timing, and dozens of other “skill feats” fall apart the same way concept cutting does, because none of them map cleanly onto biomechanics or physics. What makes them “skill” isn’t real causality but narrative causality: the author establishes a path of refinement (focus, perception, precision, discipline) and uses it to justify feats beyond the physical. If rain-dodging is valid skill because the story frames it as such, then concept cutting is no different, it’s just skill expressed at a metaphysical level rather than a physical one.
Great response, but incorrect. I will ignore the fact that you put rain-dodging next to bullet-timing and pretend like they are even remotely compareable in first place? Like humans can, given enough speed, do bullet-timing. Humans have literally on camera cut apart small projectiles traveling at high speed at them. Which is a good showcase of basic causal chain, but I digress. The mistake youre making is that you equate all fictional skill feats and think that the standards im arguing under would disqualify them, but that is simply not the case.
Lets illustrate this by dissecting both problem feats. Lets start with rain dodging, to see why this is a logical impossibility and not just a physicall impossibility. What does it entail to dodge rain? Let me preface this by me assuming the highest interpretation of the feat; Character A is currently in the middle of a rainstorm, no dry patch near him and he still remains perfectly dry, specificly through the art of physically dodging every individual raindrop. What would required for this to be possible? The ability to fit within the milimeter big area between individual rain drops. That is impossible. Not because humans can't do that, but because nothing the size of a human can do that period. Its not even a question of "skill", speed, intelligence or strength. Its just not doable. But fiction can make this doable, and in this case it was made doable. But as stated, no amount of physical stats can make this doable, including skill. This can't be demonstrated more easily than on the example of speed. Even if you were to move at lightspeed, it would still not be possible. And what do we call things that are not doable period, but still happen? Hax. This entire bogus applies to the specific idea of "Standing in the middle of a rainstorm, remaining there and still remain dry". If Character A were to, for example, create dry space by activly dispersing the rain through attacking, that would be perfectly doable (Not for real humans mind you). And there is where the idea of a causal chain comes in and why fixating on real life is incorrect, no one did it, but also misses the point.
Because if given keen enough senses, just enough speed to process what your senses see, just enough physical speed to act on your thoughts and a precise enough handling of your weapon to disperse the rain drops before they reach you, you can perform the feat. The causal chain from "Humans can, if they concentrate hard enough and train at their peak physicality long, catch things that are really really fast" to what I just described is simply enough "stats" (To simplify) in those specific categories. And I can claim this quite confidently because I know that feat is physically doable. I have a basis in real life from which i can move up to the fictional nonsense. There exist a path where I can, without reaching and bending, can move up. The contested feat would not even exist on the same plane as Skill as a whole, let alone be reachable from my starting point of real life.
Now lets come to concept cutting. I think cutting in general is a really good example of the causal chain. What is the real life limit of human cutting ability? Things harder than thick leather. Steel is out question. But in fiction, mountains get sliced like butter, let alone steel. But Those 2 still fall within the causal chain of increased cutting feats. Most importantly, those things can be physically harmed. Second, they can be interacted with with a sword. Thats all you need as a baseline assumption, because now you can move up from cutting leather to steel and higher and higher. A Cut is made out of bodily structure, precision and a fine enough blade. All 3 aspects can be scaled up near infinitly. If I have a fine enough edge that is also more durable than the material im cutting, have enough hand eye coordination to keep the blade impossible precise and enough structure to generate the kinetic energy necessary, you could cut steel. You could scale this up, and fiction HAS scaled this up plenty of time, until you reach the logical limit, which is probably going to be planck length or some shit like that i dont know, im not a scientist. Again, is this possible for humans? No, not really. But I can quantify what would be necessary for a human to perform such feats. I can't do that for concept cutting. Like, how much precision does your character need to cut concepts? How much force? How thin does your blade need to be?
Causally possible doesnt mean anything fictional has to go. Causally possible means that you could mechanically trace the ways in which the feat would work and quantify it.
Hope that helps
However if you disagree with all fictional skill feats that seem Implausible then
If you limit “skill” strictly to biomechanics and physics, then of course concept cutting isn’t skill — but that definition excludes almost every fictional martial feat ever written. Fiction doesn’t need to obey real causality; it only needs an internally consistent causal chain, and authors routinely establish that things like “dodging rain” or “cutting concepts” are trainable, repeatable, or differentiated by mastery. That’s exactly how “skill” functions in narrative: it’s the measure by which characters are separated in ability. So saying “none of them are skill” doesn’t resolve the issue, it just creates a definition of skill so narrow that it can’t be applied to fiction at all.
I have no idea why i split the reply like this so uh, see the big wall of text.