Why Are We Trying to Improve?

We will all have different answers, but I suspect that, at least on a conceptual level, there will be an enormous overlap. In this post I will give four motivations that are probably true for me. I say probably because in matters such as these there is always a case to be made for a healthy dose of self-delusion. Nevermind, here goes..

A Glorious Unattainable Quest

Bronstein was once asked why he continued to play competitively when his best days were so far in the past. He apparently replied, "I wake up on the morning of a game dreaming that today I will play the most beautiful game of my life." Please don`t ask for sources - I recall reading this somewhere so the quote is wildly inaccurate but the Bronstinian spirit remains intact!

This desire to play wonderful moves is definitely an inspiration for me on my chess journey. Improving your understanding of the game both deepens the appreciation for the games of top players and increases the chance that you will stumble upon great moves in your own. Now here is where potential delusion comes into play. I have claimed before (in foolish drunken post game chats in the pub) that I would rather lose a truly beautiful, well-played game than win an ugly error-filled one. But is this true? Sadly in fifty years of chess there is little evidence to support the claim.

The Curiousity to Find Out What is Possible

Twelve years ago I retired from teaching mathematics. My final job was at a school in São Paulo. I leveraged geographic arbitrage and moved to a small village in the North East of Brazil to follow my passion (I do hate that phrase but it serves a purpose) for sculpture. I was partly driven by a question, "DoesvGladwell's 10 000 hour rule actually work?" (I know it's not Gladwell's and isn't a rule, but it is an interesting concept nonetheless).

After ten years working on my wire figures I can honestly say - all false modesty aside - that I was astonished by the results. If you would like to see for yourself, here is a link to a short(ish) video that will give you a bit of an idea: #237 Damien Hirst's Shark: My twist (Part 1)

Of course it isn't surprising that consistent hardwork brings rewards, but seeing it in yourself is a powerful experience. So much so, that I started asking myself the question, would extraordinary results be possible if I commited myself to chess improvement in a similar way? There is obviously an enormous difference between art and chess. It could be said that sculpture is an old man's game. Artists frequently peak later in life. Chess on the other hand is increasingly becoming the province of the young. It is hard to say to what extent the deterioration of our nuero-plasticity limits potential progress. Can a 59 year-old make serious progress? I plan to find out!

Gathering Material for Another Project

I have a crazy dream to write a book. A chess book. A book for Adult Improvers, people like me. And, if I do actually finish this book (I have an outline and about 8000 words so far), then it would be nice if I could back it up with some actual improvement rather than a long rest on the dreaded plateau! Either way, documented material about attempted imrovement will be excellent material. The book will practically write itself...
Of course this might just be the stuff of fantasy, hubris driven by an inflated ego, which brings me on to my last reason.

The Inescapable Drive of our Egos

Aaaah, the joy of triumph, the cruel pleasure of crushing our opponent or simply, it's nicer to win than lose. This is the ego talking. And there is no escaping it. Chess is a zero sum game and winning is definitely more enjoyable than losing. Learning to control this is part of growing up. However, even when you do reach the point of accepting the result with good grace and developing a level of detachment, the chess world has created another cunning level for our ego to infiltrate. You may well focus on warm fuzzy process-based goals, but the obvious way to measure is of course your rating. This is the ultimate ego-trap: you identify with -actually embody and become - your rating. The struggle against your ego begins all over again.

I would like to think that my desire for improvement is driven by the more laudable first two motivations that I mentioned, but the truth is that deep down I daydream about achieving the fabled master title more than I do about playing that one glorious game. Rationally, I believe that playing a beautiful game will give me more long-lasting joy than reaching a rating goal ever could.....but try telling my ego! The sad truth is that when the game starts my mind is continually having to shut out thoughts about the result and what that might mean for my rating. Take the draw against a higher rated player, win at all costs against the lower ones. Silly, I know, but true nonetheless.

The best I think we can do is reach some sort of uneasy truce with our egos. Call them out when we are tempted to get carried away with our successes or failures. But we need to do this with an air of amusement or kindness. Give yourself a moment of ego-driven pleasure or pain and then bring yourself gently back to focussing on the goals that really matter.

Oh dear, I seem to have drifted off on a crazy, philosophical tangent. Perhaps it's time to get back to some actual chess training....meanwhile, thank you if you read until the end and I would, as always, love to hear your thoughts.

Let's start a conversation!