The Chess Mind

In response to the suggestion of a couple of friends, in addition to some difficulties I seem to be having with comment account registrations, I'm at least provisionally allowing a comments free-for-all: anyone may comment!

I ask, however, for some basic courtesy: remain polite, keep the language clean and G-rated, as I want my site to be appropriate for readers of all ages and don't want parents to be taken aback by anything they see on my site.

Indeed, it's time for a (brief) rant. There are some major chess websites that occasionally publish somewhat risque material; my national chess magazine recently published a story with aspects that strike me as at least dubious in a magazine with a huge junior, even pre-teen readership, and a popular figure in American chess is about to publish a book rumored (by the author, a year ago, to me) to include details that are definitely inappropriate to younger audiences. (The author did say that the book was most definitely not aimed at that audience, but given this person's prominence and popularity, I really doubt it will avoid that young demographic.)

These aren't the only examples I could cite, but they are representative. Now, I'm not interested in living in some sort of Disney-inspired Father-Knows-Best theme park. I know that sort of material is out there - tons and tons of it - and I'm not recommending (or rejecting) website blockers, v-chips, censorship or anything else.

Rather, I would like to ask my colleagues to engage in a bit of self-censorship. I'm a chess fan, and when I turn to chess material, that's essentially what I'm after: chess material. It's interesting to know a little about major chess figures, but I don't want to know intimate details. It's not my business, it's not something I want to make (or have made) my business, and it really shouldn't be the business of young readers. If readers want to know about these players, let them ask them; if players want to reveal private details about their own lives, they can tell their friends.

It's time for a trip to the mailbag:

First, "Faust":

In this weeks column Nigel Short reveals in the telegraph that he and Kasparov had prearranged a game If true then Fischers assertion that Kasparov and Karpov prearanged games might not be as implausible as believed on prima facie [grounds.]

Short's column is occasioned by several recent, serious cases of cheating in chess (computer cheating in internet tournaments, the bogus and ironically named "Heroes of Chernobyl" tournament, and the long controversial but apparently never investigated Strumica 1995 event), in comparison to which his offense - pre-arranging a draw with Kasparov in a last round game - is a mere pecadillo.

I personally don't have any real problem with the standard last round quickie draw (whether pre-arranged or the product of a glance on move 10), as long as there aren't any bribes being offered, of course. It's the player's job to look after his or her own best interests, and if a draw fits the bill for both players, then expect handshakes.

Now to return to Faust's comment: is this really evidence for Fischer's claim? I don't see it. In the Kasparov-Short case, it was a draw, not a decisive result; the players were on good terms, not enemies (as everyone but Fischer and those who accept his assertions would admit of the two post-their first match at the latest); virtually nothing was at stake (Kasparov clinched first place with the draw, but given his superior rating and record vs. Short, and given especially Short's physical condition, his odds of achieving at least a draw were excellent), while in the K-K matches it was the world championship that was at stake - and at a time when the title was held in great esteem. Finally, Faust understates Fischer's allegation: not just some K-K games were allegedly pre-arranged, but all of them.


In a second letter, a friend wondered and speculated about what might be wrong with Vladimir Kramnik; understandably, in light of his terrible results this year. I won't address my friend's speculation, but I'll offer my own instead, based on Kramnik's own statements (it seems to me appropriate to take people at their word in the absence of compelling reason to the contrary) and my own experience.

First, Kramnik's explanation - or rather, explanations. At a press conference after either round 9 or round 10 (it's ambiguous in the report), Kramnik claimed to still be suffering from an illness contracted during the match with Leko. In Chess Today 1658, Golubev reports Kramnik's statement at the closing press that he should probably ask for assistance from an expert to help him restore his concentration and confidence.

I don't know about the illness, but in my tournament experience, I can recall a stretch that reminds me of Kramnik's plight. Over the course of three or four tournaments in early 2000, I managed to blunder something in almost every game!

Everything seemed normal: I was calculating deeply, felt fine, and life didn't seem any better or worse than usual. But somehow, no matter how I felt nor how much I saw, pawns and even pieces dropped, game after game after game. It was a helpless, exasperating feeling, but no matter what I tried during that period, the blunders kept on coming. The only thing that seemed to work was stopping tournament chess for a while, and when I came back, things were back to normal.

Whatever the case, I certainly hope for his full and speedy recovery from the crisis in form he has been suffering especially but not only this year. Kramnik's chess, when it's "on", is a beautiful thing, and of more instructional value to the amateur than that of most of his colleagues at the top of the food chain. He might not be the chess public's favorite player, but cultivating an appreciation for his play is all to that public's benefit!

In news item #1 (here), we have at least further anecdotal evidence to support the claim that kids' cognitive development is helped along by playing chess. (Hat tip: Ken Smith)

Of course, even the very smart have other problems: witness this news item about American GM and former world junior champion-turned-businessman Maxim Dlugy. (Hat tip: Brian Karen) Of course, he is innocent until proven guilty, and I hope that he is in fact innocent of the charges. [UPDATE: Dlugy was found innocent of all the charges - see the links below.]

Regardless of the outcome, we should still remember that someone's being intelligent doesn't imply that he or she is good or wise - a point especially worth remembering when we're funneling youngsters into the hyper-competitive chess world.

In my background piece to this tournament, I noted the cynical possibility that the anti-draw regulation wouldn't necessarily solve the problem underlying the occasional practice of quick, spineless draws. I pointed out that a similarly motivated rule (no draws before move 40, apart from special circumstances) governing NY Masters games failed after a few weeks, when GMs started blitzing out 40 meaningless moves before completing the handshake.

Of course, those were just "ordinary" grandmasters - great players in their own right, but outclassed by the caliber of player in the MTel event. We rightly expect more from these players, and we weren't disappointed: it only took them until day two to prove the impotence of the no-draw offer rule.

Here's masterpiece #1:

[Event "Mtel Masters"]
[Site "Sofia BUL"]
[Date "2005.05.13"]
[Round "2"]
[White "Kramnik,V"]
[Black "Anand,V"]
[Result "1/2-1/2"]
[WhiteElo "2753"]
[BlackElo "2785"]
[EventDate "2005.05.12"]
[ECO "C42"]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nf6 3. Nxe5 d6 4. Nf3 Nxe4 5. d4 d5 6. Bd3 Nc6 7. O-O Be7 8. c4 Nb4 9. Be2 O-O 10. Nc3 Bf5 11. a3 Nxc3 12. bxc3 Nc6 13. cxd5 Qxd5 14. Bf4 Na5 15. Bxc7 Rac8 16. Bxa5 Qxa5 17. c4 Bf6 18. Bd3 Bg4 19. h3 Bxf3 20. Qxf3 Qd8

A novelty, according to TWIC's mini-report on the round. In the stem game, Karpov continued 20...Rcd8 and drew with ease again Zhang Zhong, but perhaps/presumably Kramnik had some improvement in mind. After Anand's move, Kramnik shuffles around for 5 moves, then completely gives up with 26.Qc3 and 27.Bg4, returning the pawn and liquidating to a hopelessly drawn opposite-colored bishop ending.

21. Rad1 g6 22. Be2 Rc7 23. Qd3 b6 24. Rd2 Qe7 25. Rfd1 Rd8 26.Qc3 Rcd7 27. Bg4 Rxd4 28. Rxd4 Rxd4 29. Rxd4 Qc5 30. Rd5 Bxc3 31. Rxc5 bxc5 32. Kf1 1/2-1/2

The Topalov-Adams slugfest was even more efficient:

[Event "Mtel Masters"]
[Site "Sofia BUL"]
[Date "2005.05.13"]
[Round "2"]
[White "Topalov,V"]
[Black "Adams,Mi"]
[Result "1/2-1/2"]
[WhiteElo "2778"]
[BlackElo "2737"]
[EventDate "2005.05.12"]
[ECO "C88"]

1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 3. Bb5 a6 4. Ba4 Nf6 5. O-O Be7 6. Re1 b5 7. Bb3 O-O 8.h3 Bb7 9. d3 Re8 10. a4 d6 11. Bd2 b4 12. c3 d5

This looks like a reasonable delayed Marshall of sorts. White grabs the pawn and has three moments - moves 17, 19 and 20 (17.Qf3, 19.Qf3, and 20.Rc4 all seem to be good alternatives to the moves played) - to try to keep some life in the game. He doesn't take them, and after Black's 20th move, the remaining moves look like best play for both sides, culminating in a scintillating, rule-circumventing draw by repetition:

13. exd5 Nxd5 14. Nxe5 Nxe5 15. Rxe5 Bf6 16. Rxe8+ Qxe8 17. cxb4 Bxb2 18. Ra2 Be5 19. Rc2 Bd6 20. Qf3 Qe5 21. g3 Rb8 22. Qe4 Qh5 23. Qg4 Qe5 24. Qe4 Qh5 25. Qg4 Qe5 26. Qe4 1/2-1/2

Ponomariov and Polgar were slower learners: they reached a theoretically drawn ending on move 35, but one in which Ponomariov had an extra pawn. (No doubt the result of carelessness earlier in the game.) Polgar defended accurately, and when Ponomariov finally realized, more than 40 moves later, that by shedding his extra pawn he could put an end to the game, he did so.

[Event "Mtel Masters"]
[Site "Sofia BUL"]
[Date "2005.05.13"]
[Round "2"]
[White "Ponomariov,R"]
[Black "Polgar,Ju"]
[Result "1/2-1/2"]
[WhiteElo "2695"]
[BlackElo "2732"]
[EventDate "2005.05.12"]
[ECO "B55"]

1. e4 c5 2. Nf3 d6 3. d4 cxd4 4. Nxd4 Nf6 5. f3 e5 6. Nb3 Be6 7. c4 a5 8. Be3 Be7 9. Be2 a4 10. N3d2 Qa5 11. Nc3 O-O 12. O-O Bd8 13. Nb5 Bb6 14. Bf2 Nc6 15. Nb1 Ne8 16. N1c3 Bc5 17. Kh1 a3 18. bxa3 Nc7 19. Rb1 Nxb5 20. Nxb5 Bxf2 21. Rxf2 Qb6 22. Qg1 Nd4 23. Rff1 Ra6 24. Nxd4 Qxd4 25. Qxd4 exd4 26. Rfd1 Rxa3 27. Rxd4 Rxa2 28. Bf1 h5 29. Kg1 Rfa8 30. Rxd6 Rc2 31. Rdb6 Raa2 32. Rxb7 Bxc4 33. Bxc4 Rxc4 34. R1b2 Rc2 35. Rxc2 Rxc2 36. h4 g6 37. Kh2 Kg7 38. Kg3 Re2 39. Rb6 Kf8 40. Rb1 Kg7 41. Rg1 Ra2 42. Kf4 Rb2 43. g3 Rb4 44. Rd1 Ra4 45. Ke3 Ra2 46. Rd4 Rg2 47. Kf4 Rg1 48. e5 Re1 49. Re4 Rg1 50. Re3 Rg2 51. Re1 Rf2 52. g4 hxg4 53. Kxg4 Rg2+ 54. Kh3 Rf2 55. Kg3 Ra2 56. Rd1 Re2 57. Rd5 Re1 58. Kf2 Rh1 59. Rd4 Rh2+ 60. Kg3 Re2 61. Re4 Ra2 62. Re3 Ra1 63. Rd3 Re1 64. f4 Rg1+ 65. Kf3 Rh1 66. Kg4 f5+ 67. Kg3 Rg1+ 68. Kf3 Rh1 69. Rd7+ Kg8 70. Ke3 Rxh4 71. e6 Kf8 72. Kd4 g5 73. Ke5 gxf4 74. Rf7+ Ke8 75. Rxf5 Rh1 76. Rxf4 Ke7 77. Rf2 Re1+ 78. Kd5 Rxe6 1/2-1/2

******************************

The foregoing, rather sarcastic round summary isn't primarily intended as a criticism of the players, who are going to do what they take to be in their best interest. What I am ridiculing is the attempt to legislate the short, bloodless draw out of existence by preventing draw offers or creating minimum move limits. Short draws need not be bloodless, bloodless draws need not be short, and seemingly full games may be re-enactments of previous games. Create a rule, and the disgruntled will find ways to obey its letter while violating the spirit. Those who want to fight, will fight; those who don't, won't.

So what's to be done? Either live with the occasional run of short draws (they've been around for decades, and chess hasn't exactly died from it), or do something really radical. Here are some suggestions:

* Petition organizers not to invite the most egregious offenders.

* Make player fees and prizes contingent upon their fighting spirit.

* Change the scoring system (the standard proposal is to award 3 points for a win and 1 for a draw).

* Force drawn games to be replayed.

* Run knockout tournaments that financially reward quicker round wins.

Readers, suggestions?

I recently flipped through some of the games in the supplementary database of the then-latest issue of Chess Today (if you choose to subscribe, be sure to tell them who sent you!), I came across several very short, very dull draws. Clearly the players didn't feel like fighting that day, for whatever reason.

I won't here address the issue of the propriety of so-called "grandmaster draws," but my feeling is that if you're going to play a phony game, really go all the way with it. Give the spectators something to ooh and ahh about, or to confuse them, make them laugh - SOMETHING!

Example 1: The Exciting Fake

In my high school years, I was regularly paired a good friend of mine in both scholastic and regular USCF tournaments, and because we were (a) friends, (b) had a good deal of mutual respect for the other player's abilities and (c) could generally achieve (a tie for) first place even after giving up half a point, almost all of our games concluded peacefully.

However, our draws were not coma-inducing banalities like this ever-popular farce: 1.d4 d5 2.c4 c6 3.cxd5 cxd4 4.Nc3 Nc6 5.Nf3 Nf6 6.Bf4 Bf5 7.Bd3 Bxd3 8.Qxd3 Bd6 9.Bxd6 Qxd6 1/2-1/2

Our pet draw was far more exciting: a sharp line of the Najdorf Sicilian, with White pushing for a kingside attack and Black working mightily to exchange off White's pieces before any real damage could be done, culminating in a perpetual check. Sure, we cribbed it right out of the then-latest and greatest book on the Najdorf (the old RHM Press volume by Geller, Gligoric, Kavalek and Spassky), but the spectators didn't know that!

NN-DM

1.e4 c5 2.Nf3 d6 3.d4 cxd4 4.Nxd4 Nf6 5.Nc3 a6 6.Bc4 e6 7.Bb3 b5 8.O-O Be7 9.f4

Nowadays the far more dangerous 9.Qf3 is the main move.

O-O 10.e5 dxe5 11.fxe5 Nfd7 12.Qh5

12.Be3 is more dangerous and became popular in the mid-80s, but Black can equalizes.

12...Nc5

And here 12...Nc6 might be good for an edge.

13.Be3 Bb7 14.Rf2 Nxb3 15.axb3 Nc6 16.Nxc6 Bxc6 17.Raf1



It looks annoying, but Black's bishops provide sufficient compensation for the weak e-pawn after

17...f5 18.exf6 Bxf6 19.Qg4 Qe7 20.Ne4

So much for the two bishops, but now Black can grab a pawn.

20...Bxe4 21.Qxe4 Bxb2 22.Rxf8+ Rxf8 23.Rxf8+ Kxf8

Not 23...Qxf8 24.Qxe6+ and 25.Qxa6

24.Qxh7

White has regained the pawn and has a healthier kingside pawn structure, but Black's next move proves that the position is completely level.

24...Qb4

Threatening both 25...Qe1# and to create a queenside passer with ...a5-a4, so White decides it's time to bail out with a draw:

25.Qh8+ Kf7 26.Qh5+ Kg8 27.Qe8+ Kh7 28.Qh5+ Kg8



1/2-1/2


Example 2: The Comedic Protest Draw

In 1996, Jennie Frenklakh and Jennifer Shahade were two talented American teenagers who had earned the privilege of representing the U.S. in the Girls' World U-16 championship. Needless to say, as friends and fellow Americans they did not wish to play each other, but sure enough, they were paired in round 10. They contested the pairing, but to no avail, and as a protest they played the following brilliancy (it wasn't their invention, but I don't know the source - perhaps an enterprising reader can supply it in the comments section):

Frenklakh-Shahade

1.h3 f5 2.d4 e5 3.Qd3 f4



Pretty weird so far, but you ain't seen nothin' yet.

4.Qg3!! e4 5.Qh2 Be7 6.a4 a5 7.Ra3

Obviously to put the rook on g3.

7...Bh4!



Prophylaxis.

8.Rg3!!

White has clearly seen more deeply into the position.

8...e3 9.f3 Qe7 10.c4 Qb4+ 11.Nd2 d6

It might look like Black stands better here, but appearances can be deceiving.

12.c5 Be6 13.c6 Bb3

Wisely immobilizing White's dangerous queenside pawns.

14.d5

And now, in response to the otherwise unstoppable threat of 15.cxb7 followed by 16.bxa8(Q), Black found the tremendous defensive resource

14...b6!!



and the game was over - stalemate!

Now that's the way to prearrange a draw.

Apropos the relatively recent posts (see here and here) on 1.e4 e5 2.Qh5, I'd like to discuss one way in which most - if not all - of us have been miseducated. Many players go through the following early chess history:

Stage 1. Get mated in 4 moves by 1.e4 2.Bc4/Qh5 3.Qh5/Bc4 4.Qxf7#

Stage 2. Endeavor to mate everyone else that same way.

Stage 3. Use the queen as the chess equivalent of a wrecking ball even when not attempting (or succeeding) in employing the 4-move mate.

Stage 4. Learn via hard experience, beginners' books and/or a mentor that bringing one's queen out early (especially towards the center) is a bad idea, leading to such unpleasant outcomes as her getting trapped or the other side's gaining numerous tempi by attacking the queen with developing moves.

Stage 5. Eschew early queen moves, enforcing an almost Boo Radleyish existence on the lady through at least move 15 or so.

Most of us, I think, gradually overcome the bad advice of stage 4, even though we still do our best to propagate it with those juniors and other new players with whom we have influence. Why do we do this? Two reasons come to mind, and I'll endeavor to address both: first, we still, deep down, believe that early queen moves are bad; second, we think the rule is a useful fiction.

Let me start the attempt to break the rule's grip on our chess psyches by providing some examples of perfectly good early queen moves:

For White:
1.e4 e6 2.Qe2!?
1.e4 e6 2.d4 d5 3.Nc3 Bb4 4.Qg4!?
1.e4 e5 2.Qh5 (on any but 2...Nf6!)
1.e4 e5 2.d4 exd4 3.Qxd4 Nc6 4.Qe3/Qa4
1.e4 e5 2.Bc4 Nf6 3.d4 exd4 4.Nf3 Nxe4 5.Qxd4
1.e4 e5 2.Bc4 Nf6 3.Nc3 Nxe4 4.Qh5 Nd6 5.Bb3 Nc6 6.Nb5 g6 7.Qf3 f5 8.Qd5
1.e4 e5 2.Nf3 Nc6 3.d4, when 3...exd4 4.Nxd4 Nxd4? 5.Qxd4 is great for White.
1.e4 e5 2.Nf3 Nc6 3.Bc4 Be7 4.d4 exd4 5.c3 dxc3 6.Qd5!
1.e4 e5 2.Nc3 Nc6 3.Bc4 Bc5 4.Qg4!
1.e4 e5 2.Nf3 d6 3.d4 exd4 4.Qxd4
1.e4 c5 2.Nf3 d6 3.d4 cxd4 4.Qxd4
1.d4 d5 2.c4 c6 3.Nc3 Bf5?! 4.cxd5 cxd5 5.Qb3
1.d4 f5 2.Qd3
1.c4 Nf6 2.Nc3 g6 3.Nf3 d5 4.Qa4+ (Bd7 5.Qb3)
1.c4 Nf6 2.Nc3 g6 3.Nf3 d5 4.cxd5 Nxd5 5.Qa4+ (Bd7 6.Qh4)

For Black:
1.e4 e5 2.f4 Qh4+ 3.g3 Qf6/Qe7
1.e4 e5 2.Nf3 Nc6 3.d4 cxd4 4.Nxd4 Qh4!?
1.e4 e5 2.Nf3 Nc6 3.d4 cxd4 4.Nxd4 Bc5 5.Be3 Qf6
1.e4 c5 2.c3 Qa5
1.e4 c5 2.c3 d5 3.exd5 Qxd5
1.e4 c5 2.Nf3 e6/Nc6 3.d4 cxd4 4.Nxd4 Qb6
1.e4 c5 2.Nf3 d6 3.d4 cxd4 4.Nxd4 Nf6 5.Nc3 a6 6.Bg5 e6 7.f4 Qb6
1.e4 d5 2.exd5 Qxd5
1.d4 Nf6 2.c4 e6 3.Nc3 Bb4 4.Qc2 d5 5.cxd5 Qxd5
1.d4 Nf6 2.Bg5 Ne4 3.Bf4 c5 4.d5 Qb6
1.d4 e6 2.c4 b6 3.e4 Qh4

and so on.

Not all of these lines are equally good, but they're all at least playable, despite violating the so-called rule against developing the queen early - especially towards the center. In fact, the rule is baloney, because there are so many exceptions and borderline cases that such a coarse-grained principle is of almost completely valueless. Worse, because the advice is offered at a formative stage in the player's career, they might have a relatively tough time unlearning it.

As a parallel case, to show just how powerful the effects of powerful but misleading lessons can be, consider the long-lasting trauma suffered by the Advance Variation of the Caro-Kann, brought about by the famous old game Nimzovich-Capablanca, New York 1927.

That game, which began 1.e4 c6 2.d4 d5 3.e5 Bf5 4.Bd3 Bxd3 5.Qxd3, put the variation out of business for 50 years, with a brief interlude in the 1960s, thanks to Tal's not-particularly-successful employment of the variation in his world championship matches with Botvinnik.

I suspect the reasoning went something like this: after 3...Bf5, either we play 4.Bd3 or we don't. If we do, then we have a French Defense in which Black has painlessly exchanged his bad bishop; if we don't, then the Bf5 will be beautifully placed! Only in the late 80s and early 90s did the strongest and most creative players on the planet turn to the position with fresh eyes, and then the line returned to the scene with a vengeance. (For those of you don't know how this happened, I leave it to you as a matter of research and, better still, an exercise in creative thinking.) One game - one single bit of "textbook orthodoxy" - dimmed grandmaster eyes for 60 years!!

Thus, if even the elites of the game can be so powerfully influenced - practically snowed - by a single game, then how much more are we harming young players with our pseudo-Siniatic commandments.

So what should we do? I think two approaches are in order, and both will achieve the same positive goods without any accompanying harms.

First, one can tell juniors that it can be dangerous to send the queen on early fishing trips, and explain why, but then go further and try to show what some of the common perils are (so they know what to look out for) but also when the queen is perfectly healthy in the center. A more fine-grained rule, worked out with the student him- or herself, will be both more accurate and more likely to foster their development as a thinker and a chess player.

Second, present all the positive things one can do with the pieces, so that they look for good moves (both for themselves and their opponents) rather than going through some artificial process of excluding bad ones. Let them keep the active mindset that motivates the queen-as-godzilla approach, but help them see that every piece - both individually and especially when working in concert - can have tremendous power as well.

In sum, it's better to assume something can be done and learn one's limitations than to assume limits and not even try. That's not a good blanket rule for life (kids: don't assume you can fly from the rooftop until gravity teaches you otherwise), but at least at first glance, it does seem the right way to approach the game.

In a number of posts on my precursor blog (which I've just imported into this one), I argued that chess is not a sport. (See here, here and here.) I still believe this, but there's no denying that the definition of "sport" is suffering severe semantic slippage.

Don't believe me? Check out this absurdity. I found the following quote especially unbelievable:

It is a fantastic sport. It's a little bizarre in some respect, but in a few years' time, rowing could be chopped from the Olympics and extreme ironing could be in!

-- Five times Olympic gold medalist, Sir Steve Redgrave

I'd like to think this is a severely calendar-challenged attempt at an April Fools' Joke, but, incredibly, it seems to be on the level.

In a number of posts (here and here), I have both offered my own view as to why chess is not a sport (though I'm willing to acknowledge that it is like a sport) and have critiqued others' attempts to claim that it is a sport. Briefly, my reason for thinking it's not a sport is that, in my view, it's a necessary (but not sufficient) condition for an activity to count as a sport the activity must include some intrinsically physical component. Chess need not include such a component (if it's even conceptually possible for immaterial beings to play chess, then chess does not have an intrinsically physical component), however, and thus it's not a sport.

One can of course deny that a sport must include an intrinsically physical component, but it seems to me that that's how the term has traditionally been understood, and unless widespread usage shifts, I'd prefer to say that chess is sport-like, but not a sport.

Howard Goldowsky thinks otherwise, and in an initial post on the Boylston Chess Club's blog, he suggested that chess or any other activity is a sport if it meets two conditions, roughly:

G1: It involves pattern recognition.
G2: It involves timing. (Defined in a very broad sense.)

I suggested that if G1 & G2 are jointly sufficient, then virtually any activity counts as a sport - walking to the mailbox, reading, eating, writing poetry, etc. Surely those don't count as sports, but then if that's the basis for including chess as a sport, it's insufficient to the task.

Next, I proposed an improvement on Goldowsky's scheme that rules out some but not all of my counterexamples:

G3: It takes place in a competitive context.

That rules out walking to the mailbox and reading, but it's still insufficiently restrictive, to my mind: applying for a job or playing in a piano competition now count as sports, which seems clearly wrong.

Goldowsky has since replied, and he's not impressed. Why aren't these activities sports? I haven't really defended that claim, and so, if his definitions suggest that they're really sports, then by gum, they're sports, even if no one recognizes it!

Now, I'm not completely unsympathetic to this line of reasoning. Suppose, for example, that everyone agrees that it's wrong to kill innocent human beings and that a human being is defined a living organism which has the genetic code of a human being and is either a mature member of the species or will, ceteris paribus, develop into a mature member of the species. If everyone accepts such a definition, then if some large segment of the population also accepted the permissiblity of abortion, then it would be fair to criticize their beliefs: if the definition they accept implies that abortion is wrong, then their views are inconsistetnt, even if they don't recognize it.

Unfortunately, this defense doesn't help Goldowsky, because it presupposes agreement about the definition. If G1-G3 represented the mainstream understanding of the nature of sport, then that would be one thing, but his definition is contentious at best. [An aside: Goldowsky has included a fourth condition, that "[l]uck is not inherent in the rules of the competition", but this condition isn't relevant to the ensuing discussion.]

Let's be (very) generous and suppose that, a priori, his definition and the more mainstream definition are each exactly 50% likely to be true. What do we do to figure out which of the two better captures the concept of sport shared by English speakers? I think the answer is to look at examples. A putative definition of "sports" should do three things:

(1) Include in its extension all clear cases of sports.
(2) Exclude from its extension all clear cases of non-sports.
(3) Be such as to account for the vagueness of vague cases.

Does Goldowsky's definition achieve this? (1) isn't any problem at all, but I think it fails on (2). No one not in the grips of a theory - at least no one I'm aware of - considers applying for a job or composing poetry for a contest as sports. These activities are not sports by any common understanding, and since the meaning of ordinary words comes from usage, not fiat, that gives us reason to think Goldowsky's definition is flawed.

Thus Goldowsky has still not provided us with sufficient reason to label chess a sport. He can call it a sport, or he can stipulate that whenever he utters the word "sport" he means an activity featuring G1-G3 (which is to say, G3, as G1 & G2, as he defines them, seem to apply to any action).

But I will not follow suit.

A few months ago, the ever-active Boylston Chess Club blog has taken on Howard Goldowsky as a guest blogger, and in his opening post he challenges my earlier argument that chess is not a sport, based, appropriately enough, on his rejection of my definition of sport. On my view, it's a necessary condition of some activity's being a sport that it has an irreducibly physical component, while Goldowsky thinks it's a sufficient condition that its practitioner relies on timing and pattern recognition.

It's clear that the pattern recognition condition fits chess, but it seems to fit universally acceptted sports as well: in football offensive players need to recognize defensive alignments and defensive players various offensive schemes; in basketball, there's the pick-and-roll and the zone defense; in baseball, the batter looks for characteristic arm movements, leg kick and ball rotation patterns from the pitcher, and so on. And certainly timing is important in those sports as well, as the reader can readily confirm for him or herself.

[A brief aside: the meaning of "timing" is pretty clear when it comes to sports, but it may be equivocal when applied to chess. There isn't some physical movement requiring excellence in timing; rather, timing in chess has to do, broadly, with the way in which one attempts to execute some idea - with the order of moves. Thus it's a conceptual sense of timing rather than a physical sense, and one might think that it's the latter sense of timing rather than the former that's appropriate to an activity's being a sport. I'm congenial to this objection, but will let it pass for the remainder of this post.]

That's a bit of the positive case, but now let's turn to critique. Goldowsky says that timing and pattern recognition are sufficient - presumably he means jointly sufficient - for some activity's being a sport, which means that any activity requiring those two conditions will automatically be a sport.

So here's a very partial list of new sports:

(1) Driving. Of course auto racing is a sport, but Goldowsky's definition makes all ordinary driving a sport as well. Clearly there's pattern recognition involved - one learns how to negotiate the roadways without getting into accidents, and preferably without getting into situations in which accidents are reasonably likely to occur. And certainly driving involves timing, too; ergo, driving is a sport.

(2) Poetry. Language use involves tons of pattern recognition - indeed, words are patterns of a certain sort - and timing (including but not limited to meter) is involved too. So, poetry is a sport.

(3) Making music. Recognizing key structures, chord progressions and so on are all clear cases of pattern recognition, and the role of timing in music is obvious. Music is a sport!

Without elaborating the details, we can also include (4) walking, (5) cooking and (6) brushing one's teeth as sports, too. But clearly, I think, a definition of sport that includes (1)-(6) as instances is an overly liberal definition.

Perhaps Goldowsky's definition can be improved by adding some further conditions - a competition condition, for example. That would plausibly render (1), (4) and even (6) as sports, though even then I remain skeptical about (2), (3) and (5).

Even if this is waived for the sake of argument, I think there is another problem. Even if we suppose that it's sufficient for something's being a sport that it involve pattern recognition and timing, that won't show that chess is a sport. The reason is that it's possible for someone or some thing to play chess without recognizing any pattern at all; say, by using a purely brute force approach. God, for example, or some sort of idealized computer [assuming, as I don't, that a computer plays chess at all] is the sort of being who could figure chess out from move 1 through the end without recognizing any patterns at all (beyond those required to involve and interpret the rules of the game).

It might be objected that even if God or some super-powerful intellect could play without relying on pattern recognition, we humans can't. True enough, but I claimed that chess isn't a sport, because the game doesn't necessarily have the conditions required of a sport. Likewise, even if chess sometimes fits Goldowsky's definition, it doesn't always - doesn't necessarily.

In sum, Goldowsky's definition of a sport is too liberal, letting in many activities that clearly are not sports . The definition also fails to include chess per se. So I conclude that while chess has many characteristics of a sport - it's sports-like - it is nevertheless not a sport, strictly speaking.

Related Posts (on one page):

1. Why Chess Still Isn't a Sport
2. Chess Isn't a Sport, Revisited
3. Is Chess a Sport?

Q. Is chess a sport?

A. It might at first seem that chess is a sport. First of all, it's clearly a competitive activity, which seems to be a necessary if not sufficient condition for something's being a sport. Second, the same sorts of general mental and physical disciplines needed by the sportsman (e.g. mental toughness, strong self-confidence, endurance, etc.) are required for chess players to succeed. To take a prominent example, Karpov's (then-) frail physique nearly cost him twice in big matches against Korchnoi (one for the world championship, the other in a final candidates match) and quite possibly did cost him the title to Kasparov when he lacked the endurance to finish him off in 1984.

Yet despite the above, I think that chess is not a sport. Here's why:

1. I take the following to be necessary conditions of being a sport:

a. That it's a competitive activity.
b. That the performance of the activity have an intrinsically physical component.

2. Chess fulfills (a) but not (b). As far as the nature of chess is concerned, it could be played by disembodied spirits using mental telepathy or by conscious computers.

(Whether either exists is a question for another time; I'm inclined to think the former do exist and to be skeptical about the possibility of the latter, and I'm sure some of my readers think I have it exactly backwards. No matter; the point here is just that either sort of being could play chess either without any physical activity whatsoever, or without the physical activity's being an intrinsic part of the fulfillment of the exercise.)

What I mean by an "intrinsically physical component" is easy to grasp by considering a paradigmatic case: in football, players score touchdowns by using their bodies to move the football across the field and into the end zone, field goals or extra points by sending the ball through the goal posts using only their feet. A physical object must be moved through physical space using particular bodily means.

Not so with chess. Moving the wood or plastic pieces isn't an intrinsic part of the game - one could play an online game by moving one' s mouse or better still, not move anything to play a blindfold game. (One has to move something to state one's move, but the expressing of a move isn't itself a move.) What counts is the production of a move, and that is not an intrinsically physical activity.

3. Thefore, chess isn't a sport.

Now, if one chooses to define a sport merely as some sort of competitive endeavor, then chess would be let in - but so would many other activities, like put-down contests and job interviews. Nor is it enough to add to the competitiveness condition the further requirement that it's an activity where physical prowess can make a substantial difference to one's potential success: one candidate for a job may succeed due to his enhanced fitness (his healthy appearance impressed the hiring committee, his superior conditioning enabled him to successfully work longer hours at his previous job, improving his qualifications, etc.), but that still wouldn't turn job interviewing into a sport.

In sum, while chess is in some significant ways sports-like, and physical and mental training are of great value to ambitious tournament chess players, chess is not a sport - at least if an activity only counts as a sport if it includes some intrinsically physical component.