Friday, August 1, 2025

Understanding in Chess


Understanding in Chess: The Supreme Discipline

“Chess is a game of understanding, not of memory.”
Eugene Znosko-Borovsky, How Not to Play Chess (1931)

In the golden age of chess literature, long before cloud engines and mega databases, Znosko-Borovsky fired a timeless warning at generations to come: don’t confuse knowledge with understanding. His message was sharp and clear — the best move isn’t always the one found in a book; it’s the one that flows from grasping the heart of the position.

Nearly a century later, his insight has never been more relevant — or more neglected.


🧠 The Myth of Memory

“If you find a good move, wait — look for a better one.”
Emanuel Lasker, World Champion (1894–1921)

Today’s players are drowning in data. Opening files. Engine evaluations. Bullet tactics. But Lasker’s wisdom still stands: true chess strength isn’t in recall, but in refinement — the ability to evaluate, reassess, and make choices based on principles, not parroting.

Even Garry Kasparov, the ultimate prep-machine of his time, admitted:

“Deep understanding of positions is what sets strong players apart. Not just knowledge, but interpretation.”

That interpretation comes from experience, of course — but not merely memorized experience. It comes from digested experience. Pattern recognition rooted in meaning, not blind repetition.


⚙️ Understanding vs Memory: False Dichotomy?

Let’s be clear — memory is not the enemy. In fact, it’s a servant of understanding.

Every tactical motif you spot in seconds… every mating net that flashes in your mind… every instinctive move in the endgame — that’s memory at work. But it’s useful only because it’s been structured and reinforced by understanding.


πŸ”₯ My Take: Understanding and Memory Are Partners — But Not Equals

After nearly a decade of coaching and two decades in the battlefield of tournament chess, I’ve distilled this truth:

Chess is a game of understanding and memory. But understanding leads. The ratio? 60:40.

This isn’t philosophical fluff. It’s tactical clarity.

Here’s what I mean:

  • Memory (40%) gives you the database — the raw archive of past mistakes, patterns, ideas.
  • Understanding (60%) gives you the interpreter — the one who knows when to use what, and why it works.

Understanding helps you:

  • Choose plans, not just moves.
  • Evaluate imbalances.
  • Sense danger before it appears.
  • Adapt in unfamiliar positions when theory runs out.

Without memory, you reinvent the wheel.
Without understanding, you're a slave to rote moves.
But with understanding leading memory, you play as a creator, not a copier.


πŸ›  How I Train My Students

I don’t feed them 20-move opening dumps or drill them into submission. I teach them to:

  • Look at the board like a living organism, not a math problem.
  • Ask “Why?” at every stage — Why this move? Why not that plan?
  • Tag mistakes with meaning, not just sadness. (“This wasn’t just a blunder. It was a misjudged tension.”)
  • Absorb principles from classics — where plans, not engines, decided games.

πŸ“œ Closing Thought

“A strong memory, concentration, imagination, and a strong will is required to become a great chess player.”
Bobby Fischer

True — but even Fischer used his memory to serve something deeper: his unmatched feel for the board, the balance, the moment.

So yes, train your memory. But make understanding your compass.

Because when everything else collapses — the prep fails, the surprise line hits, the position goes off-script — only one thing can guide you:

Your understanding of the game.

And that, ultimately, is what makes you not just a player, but a force.



Stay Alstoned!

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