Multiple Choice
An interesting metaphor I have thought of....
Chess is like a multiple choice test. There are a limited number of options, most of which can be eliminated on sight. Of the remaining options, each creates distinct solutions, and it is a player's job to distinguish between these solutions and choose what's best for him (her). Note that I did not say what's objectively best, although sometimes this is required.
Instead of a teacher or a computer going through and deciding your grade based on your errors, there is an implied curve given by the strength of your opponent. And the grade is pass/fail. If you consistently make better decisions than your opponent, you will pass. The test is stopped at any point where one player has provided overwhelming evidence to the other that the result has been decided.
Each move is a complex multiple choice problem that must be evaluated by using the sum of all of a player's chess knowledge. All possible themes, exchanges, key squares, and maneuvers must be studied and an answer must be produced which encompasses the most favorable elements of the position and minimizes the harmful or unfavorable elements.
In the beginning of a player's chess career decisions are based on superficial elements and unsound attacks. As a player becomes more prepared decisions and problems get deeper and deeper and his perception at the board is radically different than the beginner. He is making less mistakes because he is aware of much more powerful forces on the board. Things that were not there when making a legal move was the only struggle.
I think what got me on track to reach this conclusion is Kotov's method. The first step: identify candidate moves. Why are candidate moves stressed? Isn't there more to it? One move just doesn't seem like enough. I used to think in 2-5 move plans, searching deep for tactical combinations and complicated, radical, imbalanced positions. But chess really is as simple as one move. A game is just a series of positions. We must strive to make the best decision in every position as often as possible. Nothing more, nothing less.
But what is the best decision? Aren't there positions where there is not an objectively best move? YES! The most primitive example is move 1. White has 4 main options (1.e4, 1.d4, 1.Nf3, and 1.c4). The decision between these is usually made at home and is based on a series of factors including but not limited to: a player's style, past results with each move, opponent's style or opening choice, risk tolerance/aversion, even position in the tournament. However the constant remains that this is a choice between limited options, and the game must still progress one move at a time.
OK, now that I have bored you with this lengthy theory, I want to talk a little bit about application. I have had this post in the back of my mind for a while, and the timing was prompted by a couple of the comments to my last post. For instance, soapstone says:
chessaholic brought up the Bobby Fischer quote: "All that matters on the chessboard is good moves."
These two quotes illustrate my point very well. It is so easy due to the competitive nature of the game to allow emotion and prejudice into the mind during a game. How many times has a chessplayer said "I was completely winning and then...." after losing a game? I know I used to say it a lot. And I believed it. Because it was much easier to believe that than to accept the truth. I suck. A lot. I make mistakes all the time. I may have had the better position but if I don't understand it well enough to get a point then how was I winning? The Fischer quote is excellent. A strong player's focus must shift from attempting to explain the position in static terms to simply making good moves. We must try to minimize errors, that is all. It's not about some vicious attack on the king, or the style with which you win, or how awful your opponent is playing, it's about YOU. The game is really only one player, making one move. Over and over again.
We all know the story of Capablanca being asked how many moves ahead he looked. He responded ONE.
LEP brought up the fact that many games at the class level are decided by one horrible blunder and so sometimes blaming a loss on a simple oversight is valid. I disagree. Why are there horrible blunders? How can a player lose track of a heavy piece? Did they forget it was on the board? Obviously they didn't 'see' it. But everything is laid out. They know how the pieces move. They know how the pieces interact. How can we reach the conclusion that we are winning if we cannot even see a simple knight fork? How can we even claim to have any understanding of the position if we overlook such simple moves? The truth is that when we understand the position we see clearly, we do not overlook things, we do not make mistakes. It is when the position is beyond our comprehension that mistakes become easy. It is no longer easy to distinguish between moves. There is no way for us to tell how to proceed because our knowledge of this particular imbalance is limited.
Let's consider a scenario. Let's say that a player is about to lose all activity and be forced into a passive game. A weak player does not even recognize this and continues to make moves as if the game will just miraculously open up. If he is playing another weak player who doesn't realize his advantage then he may open the game up and then the weak player gets rewarded for poor play. If he is playing a stronger player he will start to feel cramped slowly and lose the game to some tactic eventually. He will probably feel that he was at least equal in the final position and will feel robbed by this tactic. He is unable to recognize that for the next 20 moves he would have had to sit and wait as the strong player keeps laying on threats until he is in zugzwang and loses.
Same scenario: intermediate player. An intermediate player will likely realize that he is behind and will start to panic. He will either make a rash decision to sacrifice a large amount of material for a king attack, or he will turn the game completely passive and attempt to salvage a draw. Against an intermediate player the outlandish sacrifice may be rewarded or the passivity may result in a draw. Against a strong player neither of these strategies will work and he will be outmaneuvered. He will feel like there was nothing he can do. He just got beaten. He will blame the opening for giving him such an awful position and not ever allowing him a chance in the game.
Now let's talk about a strong player. A strong player will not panic. They will see the opponents threat and attempt to thwart it. They know that the position has not reached a point where their opponent has achieved a decisive advantage but that if they do not act now they are going to get beaten. They will find a way to sacrifice a pawn, or maybe an exchange for a piece and a pawn, to salvage activity and create complications. They will transform the position. They recognize that passivity will not work and he will begin to consider moves that radically change the nature of the position. Something that the lower rated players cannot do as either they are not aware that they are losing or they do not know how to shift the focus of the game smoothly. A strong player will simply continue to examine all the options and play what they think is best. Perhaps they will lose. Perhaps the advantage really was decisive. But their approach to the game throughout is consistent. They don't let up, they don't get frustrated, they just play one move at a time. If they lose they attempt to find a better solution, a better way to go about it. Not to prove to the world that they were 'winning' at some point. But so that they gain a deeper understanding of the dynamics of the position. Next time when they face a similar problem the time they spent examining the depths of their previous game will pay dividends, they will have a better reaction.
This is the heart of the matter. As a chessplayer struggling against error we must attempt to always play positions better. All kinds of positions. Every position. Our openings must be constantly improving. Our endgame theory must be constantly improving. Strategy and tactics as well. All we can do is strive to be able to produce the best move most of the time. To not get caught off guard by something we overlooked at home or on the board.
This theory should be applied in our attitude towards the game. No emotion. No fear. No whining. No cockiness. All we must do at the board is find all possibilites, eliminate the ones that are obviously inferior (establish candidate moves), and decide between options that look equal which best suits our style of play and which provides easier decisions later.
Chess is like a multiple choice test. There are a limited number of options, most of which can be eliminated on sight. Of the remaining options, each creates distinct solutions, and it is a player's job to distinguish between these solutions and choose what's best for him (her). Note that I did not say what's objectively best, although sometimes this is required.
Instead of a teacher or a computer going through and deciding your grade based on your errors, there is an implied curve given by the strength of your opponent. And the grade is pass/fail. If you consistently make better decisions than your opponent, you will pass. The test is stopped at any point where one player has provided overwhelming evidence to the other that the result has been decided.
Each move is a complex multiple choice problem that must be evaluated by using the sum of all of a player's chess knowledge. All possible themes, exchanges, key squares, and maneuvers must be studied and an answer must be produced which encompasses the most favorable elements of the position and minimizes the harmful or unfavorable elements.
In the beginning of a player's chess career decisions are based on superficial elements and unsound attacks. As a player becomes more prepared decisions and problems get deeper and deeper and his perception at the board is radically different than the beginner. He is making less mistakes because he is aware of much more powerful forces on the board. Things that were not there when making a legal move was the only struggle.
I think what got me on track to reach this conclusion is Kotov's method. The first step: identify candidate moves. Why are candidate moves stressed? Isn't there more to it? One move just doesn't seem like enough. I used to think in 2-5 move plans, searching deep for tactical combinations and complicated, radical, imbalanced positions. But chess really is as simple as one move. A game is just a series of positions. We must strive to make the best decision in every position as often as possible. Nothing more, nothing less.
But what is the best decision? Aren't there positions where there is not an objectively best move? YES! The most primitive example is move 1. White has 4 main options (1.e4, 1.d4, 1.Nf3, and 1.c4). The decision between these is usually made at home and is based on a series of factors including but not limited to: a player's style, past results with each move, opponent's style or opening choice, risk tolerance/aversion, even position in the tournament. However the constant remains that this is a choice between limited options, and the game must still progress one move at a time.
OK, now that I have bored you with this lengthy theory, I want to talk a little bit about application. I have had this post in the back of my mind for a while, and the timing was prompted by a couple of the comments to my last post. For instance, soapstone says:
It might be a silly argument to say that if your opponent made fewer mistakes then you would lose, but what's valid is the assumption is that we're all trying to get stronger and reducing error rate when we play the less fallible people of the next level. So essentially we're all agreeing with Zukertort. "Chess is the struggle against error."
chessaholic brought up the Bobby Fischer quote: "All that matters on the chessboard is good moves."
These two quotes illustrate my point very well. It is so easy due to the competitive nature of the game to allow emotion and prejudice into the mind during a game. How many times has a chessplayer said "I was completely winning and then...." after losing a game? I know I used to say it a lot. And I believed it. Because it was much easier to believe that than to accept the truth. I suck. A lot. I make mistakes all the time. I may have had the better position but if I don't understand it well enough to get a point then how was I winning? The Fischer quote is excellent. A strong player's focus must shift from attempting to explain the position in static terms to simply making good moves. We must try to minimize errors, that is all. It's not about some vicious attack on the king, or the style with which you win, or how awful your opponent is playing, it's about YOU. The game is really only one player, making one move. Over and over again.
I don't know what to take
Thought I was focused but I'm scared
I'm not prepared
I hyperventilate
Looking for hope somehow somewhere
And no one cares
I'm my own worst enemy
We all know the story of Capablanca being asked how many moves ahead he looked. He responded ONE.
LEP brought up the fact that many games at the class level are decided by one horrible blunder and so sometimes blaming a loss on a simple oversight is valid. I disagree. Why are there horrible blunders? How can a player lose track of a heavy piece? Did they forget it was on the board? Obviously they didn't 'see' it. But everything is laid out. They know how the pieces move. They know how the pieces interact. How can we reach the conclusion that we are winning if we cannot even see a simple knight fork? How can we even claim to have any understanding of the position if we overlook such simple moves? The truth is that when we understand the position we see clearly, we do not overlook things, we do not make mistakes. It is when the position is beyond our comprehension that mistakes become easy. It is no longer easy to distinguish between moves. There is no way for us to tell how to proceed because our knowledge of this particular imbalance is limited.
Let's consider a scenario. Let's say that a player is about to lose all activity and be forced into a passive game. A weak player does not even recognize this and continues to make moves as if the game will just miraculously open up. If he is playing another weak player who doesn't realize his advantage then he may open the game up and then the weak player gets rewarded for poor play. If he is playing a stronger player he will start to feel cramped slowly and lose the game to some tactic eventually. He will probably feel that he was at least equal in the final position and will feel robbed by this tactic. He is unable to recognize that for the next 20 moves he would have had to sit and wait as the strong player keeps laying on threats until he is in zugzwang and loses.
Same scenario: intermediate player. An intermediate player will likely realize that he is behind and will start to panic. He will either make a rash decision to sacrifice a large amount of material for a king attack, or he will turn the game completely passive and attempt to salvage a draw. Against an intermediate player the outlandish sacrifice may be rewarded or the passivity may result in a draw. Against a strong player neither of these strategies will work and he will be outmaneuvered. He will feel like there was nothing he can do. He just got beaten. He will blame the opening for giving him such an awful position and not ever allowing him a chance in the game.
Now let's talk about a strong player. A strong player will not panic. They will see the opponents threat and attempt to thwart it. They know that the position has not reached a point where their opponent has achieved a decisive advantage but that if they do not act now they are going to get beaten. They will find a way to sacrifice a pawn, or maybe an exchange for a piece and a pawn, to salvage activity and create complications. They will transform the position. They recognize that passivity will not work and he will begin to consider moves that radically change the nature of the position. Something that the lower rated players cannot do as either they are not aware that they are losing or they do not know how to shift the focus of the game smoothly. A strong player will simply continue to examine all the options and play what they think is best. Perhaps they will lose. Perhaps the advantage really was decisive. But their approach to the game throughout is consistent. They don't let up, they don't get frustrated, they just play one move at a time. If they lose they attempt to find a better solution, a better way to go about it. Not to prove to the world that they were 'winning' at some point. But so that they gain a deeper understanding of the dynamics of the position. Next time when they face a similar problem the time they spent examining the depths of their previous game will pay dividends, they will have a better reaction.
This is the heart of the matter. As a chessplayer struggling against error we must attempt to always play positions better. All kinds of positions. Every position. Our openings must be constantly improving. Our endgame theory must be constantly improving. Strategy and tactics as well. All we can do is strive to be able to produce the best move most of the time. To not get caught off guard by something we overlooked at home or on the board.
This theory should be applied in our attitude towards the game. No emotion. No fear. No whining. No cockiness. All we must do at the board is find all possibilites, eliminate the ones that are obviously inferior (establish candidate moves), and decide between options that look equal which best suits our style of play and which provides easier decisions later.
On your stuff about "best" move, Soltis has an interesting analysis of this topic in 'How to choose a chess move'. He looks at thousands of middlegame positions in GM games, and finds that only in about 33% of the positions there is a clear best move. In the remaining there are multiple equally good moves. The positions with 'best' moves tended to be very sharp, obviously tactically rich positions.
My hunch is that in amateur games there is a slightly higher frequency of positions in which there is a best move, simply because the opponent gives us more opportunities to give him the beatdown.
I also really like the stuff about seeing the board from the eyes of a beginner (who just simply misses stuff) versus the eyes of a better player. I think it takes people a while to realize that breadth and maturity of thought, not the ability to simply crunch through a couple of trees seven-ply, is the key to playing better.
Along those lines, one of my favorite posts in the blogs is an old one from Wormwood here. It helped me a lot.
I'm still at the crazy unsound sacrifice stage for the most part. But at least that's better than my first stage: just act passively, play defensively, and never attack.
bdk - high quality chess is interesting in this way. i tried to capture the subjective nature of the game in this post but i do have a few things to add concerning this. it also ties into the "multiple right answers" point. i think more than the analogy being weird for this it is weird because the questions asked later in the exam are dependent on your answers earlier in the exam. the thing is i don't think there are "multiple right answers". i think each player knows what type of position they want to play and so faced with a subjective decision they take the path that most resembles their style, thereby attempting to make their decisions later easier.
for instance a player like kasparov will strive for active positions even at the cost of material or even a slight disadvantage, whereas a player like karpov will strive for a slight advantage positionally. so even though the question may have multiple equal answers, i think it is up to the player to find the one answer that best fits him.
what ever happened to wormwood? he was putting out some good stuff...
I remember many years ago reading Larry Evans and he said his goal was "a continuous series of good moves" and at the time I thought it kind of wimpy, good moves, what about great, awesome, surprising, fantastic moves? But: We must try to minimize errors, that is all. Yeah, I'm aboard that train now.
Rebuttal to the simple blunder: First, you are definitely correct when you say too many players use the "this one move" or "bad opening" crutch too much. But someone who loses due to a simple blunder implies insufficient understanding goes too far.
Example 1: Referring to this game between me and Tacticus
In a winning endgame, he blundered and explains it this way:
"This mistake was due to moving based on a hypothetical future position I was analyzing instead of the actual current position."
His loss was not due to a lack of understanding, or being unable to evaluate. It was due to being human. Not that there weren't moves of interest before this one and other lessons to learn, but it's safe to say this loss is best attributed to a blunder.
Example 2: Etienne Bacrot's epic loss. IMO, it is fairly safe to chalk this up to simple oversight. Unless it's preferable to say the Bacrot didn't really understand the position.
That is a good bottom line. I will never be able to eliminate all mistakes, but as long as I can continue to reduce the number of mistakes to such a degree that the number of my mistakes is smaller than my opponent's, I will be in good shape.
lep/bdk - my contention is that these mistakes only appear to be a legitimate choice when the position is so overwhelming that a player's thought process is strained. but human error makes sense too. also i don't think those are 'normal' examples, i'll try to dig up some counter-examples.
chessaholic/wahrheit - non-losing moves are important. i have learned to avoid trying 'crushing' moves if i can't prove it and appreciating how important it is to just keep up the pressure.