Is Chess Really the Best Board Game Ever?

(Note: in this article, I capitalized Chess, Go, and Shogi, even though they are not often capitalized in writing, to not only pay homage to these games, but also to have their names stylistically resemble the names of modern games.)
In the United States, as many of you know, most people who do not play board games as a passionate hobby have heard of such games as Monopoly, Sorry, Clue, Risk, Connect Four, Stratego, Candy Land, Chutes (or Snakes) and Ladders, Checkers, Backgammon, and, of course, Chess. Some of them are fine games even now, but some are outmoded and/or involve no sense of agency or decision-making whatsoever (I'm looking at you, Chutes and Ladders), yet Chess seems to retain that mystique as being a "classic" game. To be sure, Chess is so widely played and has such longevity that it has been venerated to "best game of all time" status by many folks, at least as far as I can tell. You could probably ask any person on the street about the best board game of all time, and I would not be surprised that Chess is mentioned more than once.

The funny thing about Chess, though, is that for all of its history and (clearly) international recognition as a game for really smart people who make a profession out of studying and playing it, finding people who really ENJOY Chess can be a very challenging task. Indeed, there are grandmasters, wannabe grandmasters, local tournament winners, and even faux-protegies who fancy Chess. These same folks plunge headfirst into study, memorizing openings and closings, dissecting past matches, and learning so much about the vagaries of the game that they come to see in-game patterns of play that are only visible to a true Chess enthusiast. I believe that it is because of this level of erudition and perceived difficulty that people somewhat begrudgingly acknowledge Chess as the best game of all time; some people even use Chess as a determiner of how intelligent or strategic a person is, which is incredible for a game to be vaunted to that status.

It is these same folks that underscore the greatest challenge presented to the would-be player of Chess: to be good at it, you have to study and study and practice and study. This may be true of many pastimes and even other board games, but Chess elevates this requirement to a very high level such that only staunch enthusiasts really enjoy Chess. I suppose that a degree of mastery of anything both dictates if one enjoys that thing and how much he or she enjoys that thing with other people. If you know how to play some tennis, you will enjoy tennis with people of similar skill level, practice habits, determination to improve, and play experience. However, if you are a casual weekend warrior who plays against a former Division I college tennis star, both you and the almost-pro would not have a fun time (unless the would-be pro is sadistic and relishes trouncing sad-sack casuals). In any case, practice and study (and even, dare I say, natural ability) are key to enjoying tennis, Chess, or whatever, but some pastimes require it more than others (such as Chess).

This leads me back to the question posed in the title of this post: is Chess the best board game of all time? Well, let's splay out its credentials: simple rules for movement and attack, elegant board and piece design, wide-ranging global availability and recognition, centuries of tried-and-true competitive play, and the accessibility of volumes of scholarly study of which any student of the game can avail himself or herself. Add to that the myriad of rebadged sets (Lord of the Rings Chess, Civil War Chess, Mario Chess, and so on!), levels of competition, and variations (Shogi!) and you have a venerable game that is appreciated and adored the world over... Yet I contend something that a few others have suggested...

Chess is outdated, abstract, inaccessible to the casual UNLESS he or she plays against another casual player, limited in gameplay, and so exclusive that you must commit serious study (or possess immense, natural, genius-level skill) to be remotely competitive.

So... let me unpack that recognizably controversial statement. First of all, Chess is a centuries-old game, which is fine except that, especially in the last, say, 30 years, there has been a wealth of deep, rich board games and card games that have been developed and published that are replete with theme and fluff (i.e. little theme nuggets that work within the rules to reinforce game play) that enliven such games. To find out more, simply navigate to www.boardgamegeek.com and browse the top 200 strategy games.

Secondly, as I pointed out earlier, you have to dedicate time and focus to compete in Chess, which makes it less out-of-the-box playable against semi-skilled players than a game like Ticket to Ride or Carcassonne. Sure, both of these games have randomness, and Chess does not, but I contend that it's only enough randomness to give the inexperienced player a little boost. Some have decried randomness as a "crutch" that can punish expert play, but there is a skill to mitigating randomness. For example, in the X-Wing Miniatures Game, your attack and defense dice rolls may stymy your good flying and firing-arc aiming, but you can improve your chances with well-chosen upgrades that allow for re-rolls or by selecting the right action to perform, such as getting that Focus token that increases your hit percentage per die from 50% to 75%. Dealing with randomness is a skill set that is necessary in life, and it is something absent in Chess (which is NOT an ironclad argument against Chess, per se, but it does reinforce my point that Chess does not really support the inexperienced player).

Thirdly, even though computers have calculated the millions of possible moves in Chess, in practice, as the game state progresses, your options are very limited. For instance, after six moves, the board is in a state in which there are more horrible moves that can lead to capture than excellent moves (or even harmless moves) that allow you to advance your pieces. Though some may contend that this is a GOOD thing which compels people to find the true value of any piece and weigh its sacrifice against better future position or (even better) baiting an opponent to expose a strong piece for capture, that feeling of agency is illusory. To me, Chess has always felt like it's "on rails," which is an inexorable path; eventually, there is going to be a bloodbath that manifests itself in a rapid cascade of sacrifices until one player ends up with more materiel. Funnily enough, this substantiates my point because, ultimately, there is only ONE victory condition in Chess: the capture of the king, which is in and of itself quite limiting.

Lastly, let's discuss the exclusive nature of Chess with more depth. Once again, if you do not study and practice, you are nothing more than a casual player who knows the rules, but little else. There's nothing wrong with that... until you encounter a friend or co-worker who is looking for an opponent and is found wanting when she realizes that she can utterly defeat you every time. Even worse than that, though, is the almost-fact that unless you are somewhat equal to your opponent, the game is not really fun for either of you. Now, some may point at competitive Chess and say that Magnus Carlsen must not be having fun when he's defeating other "lesser" grandmasters, but the difference between him and those players is (and this is my somewhat unresearched contention) miniscule. We're talking about minute differences in skill level; on a "bad day," Carlsen could lose to any of those players. That's why games between grandmasters involve multiple matches; on any given day, one grandmaster, at least in theory, can beat another one. Anyway, unless you're competing at a grandmaster level, any appreciable skill level difference can render Chess un-fun for the lesser player (unless the lesser player is learning actively through defeat). That, primarily, is why Chess is exclusive, but I can also point out that it always plays as a two-player game unless you have a wonky four-player version of Chess (which is super-fun, actually).

Now that I've stated all of this, I will venture to guess that you, the reader, are mentally shooting down each argument with these thoughts:

• Just because Chess is old doesn't mean that it's outdated or awful.
• I hate many games because of the randomness; card draws, dice rolls, and other randomizers have ruined game sessions for me.
• Randomness is indeed a crutch and you're a sad individual who needs crutches to beat better players.
• Of course you have to study and practice! Every sport and worthwhile game is like that!
• I don't play competitive Chess anyway. I just enjoy it.
• Chess is eminently accessible. It's played all over the world and is much cheaper than most of your fancy board games (particularly X-Wing!).

Here's my controversial response to all of these statements: you're absolutely right! I cannot refute any of these statements, which makes me think that much of what I've proffered is a personal position and NOT a statement of fact, so let me try this statement:

There are so many beautiful, strategically-deep, slightly random games out there that allow people to exercise creativity and guile without the "on rails" feeling of Chess and WON'T break your budget.

One example of this is Agricola. For $45 USD, you get a worker-placement game that is only as random as the stage cards that are revealed (if you play the Family Edition with no Occupation or Minor Improvement cards) and has a few paths to victory, though you ultimately win with a diverse farm. It also plays up to four players out of the box.

How about Great Western Trail? For about $40 USD (depending on the time of day), you can play a wonderfully-illustrated game that can have a different starting board state each game and a random set of cows in hand, but provides that feeling of agency as you build buildings along a path to help you and disrupt your opponent.

There is even a Chess variant that lets you deploy one of your opponent's captured pieces as your own piece during the next turn: Shogi. The pieces move somewhat similarly to Chess, except nothing beats the thrill of dropping your Gold attacking piece in a position that is very close to the opponent's king. In Japan, the pieces and the board were roughly $15 to $20 USD, and I cannot imagine they would be much more expensive elsewhere.

There may even be folks out there that prefer Go to Chess because of the fluid nature of the game and the even higher numbers of possible moves than Chess. I've never played Go, but I can state this: it took much longer for developers to create a computer program to beat top Go players than it did to create programs to beat top Chess players.

Let's return to the question: is Chess the best board game ever? Unequivocally, I'd say "No," not necessarily because of the panoply of arguments I've put there as the wide recognition that almost-equally-venerable Go is better than Chess as a game of creativity and organic play. Even if you don't agree with THAT statement, I would wager that I've cast a lot of doubt on the assertion that Chess could even be considered the best board game ever, which is what I feel I have achieved with this post. Of course, this is not to state that Chess is awful or a "bad game." Actually, it's IS one of the best for all of the reasons I've mentioned (even in my arguments against it), and it is a fine representative of abstract games in the hobby, but I feel we have come a long way in the board gaming hobby to where you can be a farmer, a cattle rancher, a vegetable trader, a trader in the Mediterranean, a car builder, or even a Space Lion AND have meaningful in-game decisions. Chess is no longer the best, but one of the best of the abstract games.

As I conclude, let me posit a somewhat tangential argument. The Beatles are publicly regarded as arguably the best rock band of all time with their blend of musicianship, songwriting, Top Ten hits, marketability, good looks (generally), and four decent-to-great lead singers who each had successful solo careers (Ringo did have the first solo hit song, by the way). One would be hard-pressed to argue otherwise because of the breadth of evidence. However, I put forth that The Police had three superior musicians, one superlative songwriter and singer (though I must admit that John Lennon's writing was as superlative as Sting's when it comes to depth and introspection) and were also marketable with good looks. In my mind, The Police were the better band, but they also benefited from the groundwork laid by The Beatles, whose diverse genre-bending catalog of songs expanded the rock landscape. Chess is similar: modern board games owe their existence to Chess. In this way, we should always elevate Chess, but also keep in mind that better creations were devised on its shoulders.

What to Do If... You Don't Like Your Game Group Anymore

It can be an almost insurmountable challenge to assemble a great game group. Having to juggle and mesh personalities, game tastes, schedules, and even where to play can be exhausting. This is why people often compromise in one or more of those areas for the sake of just getting a game off the ground. You may find yourself going to the local game store and pulling together a collectible-card gamer, a role-playing gamer, a miniatures gamer, a Euro gamer, and a  good friend into your group and trying to make them play together. Or, you may have identified some interested casual players and formed a lunchtime gaming group. You may have even gotten some neighbors together in your apartment building or street and decided to be "neighborly" by having them over for games and food. In each of these cases, though, you probably compromised on game taste (the first example), schedule (the second example), or even how readily the people interact (all of the examples). For a while, these groups can function and may even develop into fine friendships, but there is always the chance that group relations can go sour or, in a less easy-to-explain way, one or more of its members (namely you) grow to dislike specific members or the entire group. In my case, I was once in a game group in which one of the members had a crass sense of humor that I found off-putting. I grew to dislike being around this person because he would crack a crude joke and I would have to adopt a stone-faced expression.

With that in mind, let's discuss what to do if you do not like your gaming group, and I am writing this from the assumption that you are the one who no longer enjoys being in the group, but you are not the organizer:

Get Busy
One of the most diplomatic ways to back out of a group is to simply fill your personal and/or work schedule with other appointments. For instance, if your game group plays on Tuesdays, set up a lunch date with your spouse or mandate a workout time for yourself. Then, tell the group that your Tuesdays are filled. However, some persistent members of the group might try to accommodate your change; to anticipate that, schedule out EVERY day with something, even if it's trivial. If you're busy, you're busy, but you don't have to provide much explanation beyond the "my schedule is packed now" excuse.

Become Inconsistent
Another diplomatic way to back out of a group is to become "flaky," meaning that you just decide to not show up sometimes. You could not show up every other week at first, and then make your appearances less and less frequent. Instead, go out for walks, make other friends, prioritize family time... There are a myriad of reasons to be inconsistent. The only risk is that you become the "flake," which means that people become distrustful of you attending organized events.

Pray and Endure
The hardest decision is to remain in a group because you want to be that positive person who invests in people. You may genuinely care about the people in your group, even though you do not really like them, because they are human beings who need encouragement. If this is the case, I recommend a lot of prayer and (for Christians) reading the Bible. Then, treat each game meeting as an opportunity to reach people. The only downside of this approach is that board games can become less fun and more like a job.

Now, if you happen to be the organizer of the game group sessions, then your options are slightly different and, in some ways, more difficult because your non-participation is much more apparent and can communicate feelings to the others that you would rather NOT make that obvious:

Stop Scheduling Sessions (Corollary to Get Busy)
There may come a time when you decide to NOT schedule the meetings anymore. At work, you may use Outlook to send invitations; just stop sending the invitations. Outside of work, you may communicate through social media or email; start off by sending cancellation notices, and then stop sending notices altogether. Eventually, someone will comment on how you don't organize meetings and ask why you don't. Simply tell them that you have "been busy," but encourage that person to take control and set up meetings. More often than not, if you're the organizer, other people will not step up when you leave a vacuum.

Announce a Break
Through whatever medium, inform your group that you want to take a break from board games to focus on other hobbies and/or family. Mention that you need to "recharge your batteries." You can also encourage the rest of the group to carry on without you. This is probably the second-most direct way (besides holding a special meeting) to communicate your displeasure with the group.

Hold a Special Meeting (Corollary to Pray and Endure)
If you prefer to be really direct, call the group together and (in a neutral location) discuss why you have a grievance with one or more members of the group. Consider the following scenarios...

If you all are friends, then conduct this meeting with the approach of preserving friendship. In other words, discuss your issues calmly and with an ardent desire to be inoffensive, read facial expressions, echo other people's feelings, and work together to find solutions for the issues. Friends are more important than games, so addressing the issues you have might resolve your lack of desire to play.

If you are all enthusiasts who are only unified by board games and a common night for gaming, then I do NOT suggest holding a meeting except to say that you won't be able to play on that day and time, but you encourage them to continue. If they are like the kinds of people I've met at the local game store, there will be no hearts broken by your bowing out for various reasons. Sometimes, it's best that people do NOT know the details or your grievances.

If your group is a work group comprised of acquaintances, then this kind of meeting is much trickier because you have to work with these individuals. I would NOT recommend a meeting AT ALL. Simply get busy and stop organizing or attending game sessions.

As I wrote this post, I considered the possibility that you may have identified another group to join. If so, I would back away from the current group and not join the new group for a while; give yourself one or two months before restarting gaming, or restart in a way that isn't apparent to the old group. Then, if someone from your old group discovers that you have joined a new group, mention that this group was better for your schedule, they are playing a game you wanted to try, or you were finally done with taking a break. You may want to take great care to meet with the new group in an entirely new location or different lunchroom.

Despite the ideas and advice I've put forth, I tend to find that if one does not enjoy a group, that group tends to fall apart quite organically. I believe that it has something to do with the concept of complex adaptive systems. Basically, if you take a room of people who have developed their own interactions and group norms but introduce a new person, the entire dynamics of the room change for better or worse. This happens in classrooms when new students join the class and that awesome class becomes a chaotic one; it also happens in small businesses when a misanthropic individual can throw interactions into disarray.

My point is that as your attitude towards the game group (even if you are subtle) becomes non-positive, that "vibe" is felt by those around you. They may not be able to pinpoint what is happening, but they may find themselves not enjoying the group either. Of course, I don't endorse throwing a fit or being overtly negative; that is not a suggestion I have made in this post. Instead, I proffer the idea that when one person in a group is no longer engaged, the group slowly, inexorably crumbles. With that in mind, either the patience to ride it out or the conviction to leave may be what you need to end what has become an unfavorable game group for you.

My New X-Wing Blog: the Step on Snek Squadron!

Hello, everyone. I wanted to let you know that I have started a new blog committed to the X-Wing Miniatures Game called Step on Snek Squadron! Here is the link to that blog.

To summarize, the Step on Snek Squadron focuses not on the casual player, the enthusiast, or the competitive player who vies for tournament wins -- it is for the false beginner player who has experience with the game, and even in local tournaments, but is not good enough to do well at such tournaments. Sure, you may win the odd casual night or even dominate in your own home, but once you leave the safe confines of those arenas, you find yourself wanting.

When you get a chance, check out the blog. I will refer to it from time to time on this blog at steponsneksquadron.blogspot.com. Yes, I will continue to write RetroBeliever posts (if I get around to it), so don't go away.