Chess and Life - Making the Right Moves

In 1978, an international chess master by the name of David Levy confronted the world's fastest computer at the time, a vast eyesore of wiring that had the most successful chess-playing program fed into it. Each time Levy moved one of his pieces, a programmer would type his move into the computer's memory bank, and the computer would then give its instant response. An assistant then moved a piece on the chess board to match the computer's suggestion.

The result of the chess match was no contest. The human defeated the computer decisively. It was shown that the machine didn't fully understand the game and its long-range strategy. Each move was technically the best available at the moment, but the computer lacked such qualities as forethought, insight and intuition. The human mind proved far more versatile and was able to change responses as the situation required.

Since that time, many masters of the game have anted up against modern-day mainframes and the programmers behind them, with various results. Why would one choose to spar their wits in chess with a computer? Because chess is a game that is inherently "human" in every way, and sometimes it's in our nature to prove it.

Chess is certainly complex, seemingly flawless, multifaceted, complicated at times and yet perfect in a true game's form. Abraham Maslow, the founder of humanistic psychology, said that the "superior human being" mirrored similar qualities. According to Maslow, humans are realistic, possess the ability to reason logically, are creative and spontaneous, and can focus on problems outside of themselves. Indeed, these qualities are indispensable in the game of chess. The chess board is a forum for us to showcase these traits, to prove to ourselves and our opponent, whether it be man or machine, that we are the "superior human."

What makes chess such an interesting and absorbing game to us? To those who play, the game can be both riveting and alluring. If we don't play, we wish we could. Are there any life-lessons to be learned from the game of chess?

Freedom of Choice

Chess has a major appeal in its intricacy, which can be enthralling in its layers. Chess and checkers are both played on a similar game board, one that is divided into sixty-four squares coupled with eight perfect rows containing eight squares each. Yet chess has essentially an innumerable amount of moves. By some estimations, for example, due to the different kinds of pieces, or "men", used in chess and considering the variety of moves each one can make, there are said to be a tricesimal amount of ways to make just the first ten moves. Written numerically, that would be a '1' followed by thirty-two zeroes!

We're captivated by this freedom of choice. In a world that often pressures us to conform into a specific mold and to follow a predestined path, the variety of options found in Chess is refreshing, and reflects the freedoms cherished by each person. Man was created as a free moral agent and was given considerable freedom of choice in matters of life. Each choice can be appraised as wise or foolish. Each choice leads to a secondary set of choices, and so forth from there. Each move has an impact in the "game", whether that game is played in chess or in daily life.

This does not mean, however, that our freedom should know no bounds. In social and religious matters such as worship, doctrine and conduct, consideration must be given to how our choices impact on one another. In chess, we learn that a wrong move, or a wrong choice, results in the loss of one of our pieces. Each piece has a value, with checkmate claiming our most precious member. Chess thus echoes the simple yet profound truism: We are to do to others as we would have them do to us. Knowing that we do not make choices in a vacuum, we learn to see all angles, all approaches and perspectives, and make an informed decision.

Of course, even though the lesson learned is wholesome, the goal in chess is just the opposite; we seek to eradicate our opponent or put them into in impasse where the only option is surrender. But through that process, we again learn that our choices influence one another, and we seek to make better ones in the future. Perhaps we were the one to make the wrong choice, and now we must endure a loss in the game. Competitive human nature comes to the fore, and while the victor basks in a moment of triumph, we've learned from our mistakes and have inventoried bits of strategic information to use next time.

Perhaps it's the complex nature of the game, and the fact that player skill is so important, that makes chess an appealing game, especially to those whose work, jobs or even daily lives fail to challenge their intellectual abilities. Chess is an exercise for the brain, of which scientists estimate that we use only one-half of one percent of our full potential. For these players, perhaps they feel the need to venture beyond that limitation and reach out for something better. Indeed, is that not one of the most "human" things about us? The desire to better ourselves is a strong force that all people possess and is what impels us to keep actively moving on our board, as it were.

Kings and Queens Among us

The breakdown in chess is unpretentious. Each opposing player has a set of sixteen in their army. Eight pawns, two bishops, two knights, two rooks or castles and a king and a queen. These six different pieces possess different values and strengths, or perhaps we could say different standards, ideals, and morals. Is this not a dichotomy of mankind, a slice into the pie of human nature?

The pawns, for example, can generally move only straight forward, one step or one square at a time. Like pawns, some individuals are single minded, perhaps narrowed and bigoted in their perceptions. They're the first to jump in among us, and usually drown in the process.

Rooks have a little more mobility; they can move forward any distance, even backward or sideways in a straight line, as long as their path is clear. Can we not relate to that? When our needs, goals or desires are unobstructed, who of us hesitates to pursue them? But if our path is blocked, do we surrender and yield to our adversary, or can we improvise, strategize and "think" our way out of the pickle we've put ourselves in?

In a similar sense, Bishops can move as far as they want in a straight line, but only on a diagonal. Perhaps they're the free thinkers among us. Their personas unbridled, and perhaps just a little off or a little skewed from mainstream thought, the Bishops are the free-masons of the mechanisms that power life.

Knights, unlike other pieces, can only move about in an L-shaped progression. If a Knight were to move in the same set of squares, it would not make any progress. Depressed and disheartened, it finds itself right back where it started, unable to make any headway into the game. Bystanders as the bus passes by.

The strongest piece on the board of course is the Queen. She can move in any fashion forward, backward, sideways or diagonally, as long as her path remains unhindered. She is the autonomous self-starter. The high flying go-getter that knows no boundaries. Free spirited and successful, and perhaps a little obtuse in her thinking, she moves with grace, rarely trips up, and is one of the last to falter.

Of course, her King, stationed by her side, can also move anywhere he wishes, but is limited to one space at a time. The King operates behind the scenes, and waits for others to do his work for him. This King / Queen relationship probably accurately describes quite a few marriages, perhaps your own!

So, then, the uniqueness of each piece is governed by its mobility or the variety of choices each one can make. Comparatively, which piece are you? Consider which piece you might rather be, and what qualities you admire and desire to emulate.

Spirit of Competition

At the same time, forcing two mental combatants against one another, while eliminating the element of chance in their decision-making, brings rise to our human competitive nature, which at times can be obliging and supportive, but can also yield place to enmity and hostility. Even those who do not have an antagonistic nature may find themselves becoming a mental fighter out of necessity.

A spirit of competition is healthy, and speaks to the desire each one of us has to improve our rank in life, either as individuals or for our "team", which could be our family, our core friends, or our peers at work. In recent years however, some schools of thought have taught that the best way to handle a disagreeable situation is to vent our anger through a controlled release. Others come right out recommend shouting, screaming or even throwing things. It's thought that these options are better for the individual than trying to bottleneck feelings to the point they detonate wildly.

Either way, we learn that our attitudes and actions can lead to unpleasant consequences. We may have achieved an individual goal, but at what cost to those who are closest to us? Most households can manage to keep damaging conflicts to a minimum. But in other families, pressure and opposition hang on well past checkmate.

Decision-Making

In the game of chess, we must gather together all the facts involved in a given situation. Related to this, and equally crippling to the result of the game, is the inability to accurately interpret the information that is available. This is true even in the physical world.

For example, many factors govern the weather, such as heat, wind, terrain, and so forth. Even if all or most of the factors are known, it is extremely difficult to interpret them to know how the different laws will interact to create a certain future weather pattern. So, weather forecasters, no matter how expert, are often wrong. In chess, there is always that same element of uncertainty in our opponent. We think we know what they might do, but our confidence ends there.

This is even more true when trying to determine broad or major developments in the future of mankind. Politicians who try to interpret the world situation and predict man's future can be likened to chess players. Remember, there are only sixty-four squares on a chess board and thirty-two pieces. Superficially, therefore, the game seems relatively simple. But the infinite amount of moves, as discussed earlier, makes prediction a dangerous thing.

If no one person has the ability to anticipate all possible chess moves, how could they be able to foresee human affairs for the good of those whom they wish to rule? The problems facing the human race are not limited to a small board of sixty-four squares and thirty-two pieces, but are vast and virtually incalculable. Additionally, each of mankind's problems is influenced in many ways by human will, which, of all factors, is the most unpredictable.

It is no wonder, therefore, that historian Arnold Toynbee states:"I myself believe that prediction is not possible in the field of human affairs. I believe that the outcomes of human choices, purposes, and plans are unpredictable intrinsically, however fully we may be informed about the relevant past facts up to date." Reconsiderations, 1961, page 4.

Nevertheless, like chess players, humans continue to predict solely on the basis of what they see immediately before them. Should one of these expected "moves" on the global chess board deviate from what is anticipated, a whole new situation is created, upsetting the prediction and muddling the outcome.

For instance, Karl Marx, the founder of modern Communism, interpreted the situation in nineteenth-century England to mean that the industrial revolution would negatively strike the country. But his prediction failed to come true. Why? Because humans brought about certain unforeseeable changes in England, including collective bargaining rights and social legislation which improved the workers' lot.

Today, the human element is a larger consideration than ever before when one contemplates the erratic behavior of many rulers and the rebellious elements within their nations.

God and Man's Future

But what about God? Cannot he predict the future? Not only can he do so, but he chooses to reveal what he knows about the future to us. In fact, he feels urged to do so. Why do we say that?

It seems unlikely that God would create in us a desire to know at least the major developments due to occur in our future, and then entirely frustrate our efforts to fill that need. We were gifted in creation with curiosity. As a God of love, he is motivated to reveal the future to us, to give us a peak at his next "move", so that we can plan for it successfully. Yet there is another impelling reason that God does this.

Simply put, God unveils the future to prove to all that he is Almighty God, and because we wants each and every person to find true happiness. The True God should be able to tell in advance what his purpose is, should he not? Thus we read of God as boldly declaring at Isaiah 46:9-11: "I am God, and there is no one like me; I reveal the end from the beginning, from ancient times I reveal what is to be; I say, 'My purpose shall take effect, I will accomplish all that I please.' Mark this; I have spoken, and I will bring it about."

None of us would want to face the Almighty in a chess game, but it would be reassuring to know that as an opponent, he would let us win every time, and we wouldn't even know it.

Undoubtedly, we've seen how chess serves as a reflection pool for each of us. As we contemplate the game, we discover our own humanity, ponder the brilliance we are all capable of, deliberate over our station in life and what we can do to improve it, and contemplate a bright future as revealed by God in his Word.

It's your move.