Life is a game, and everyone (or rather everything) is a player—even bacteria. Players do not even have to be consciously aware that they are playing. This great game might even be woven into the very DNA of all living things. 

On November 24, 2021, Magnus Carlsen and Ian Nepomniachtchi sat opposite each other in a showdown for the world chess championship, blatantly disregarding a certain fundamental flaw of the game: the fact that it is either futile or unfair. In other words, we know that it is true that either each player has a strategy available to them that will avoid defeat under any circumstances, or there exists a guaranteed winning method available to only one side—a strategy so potent it will clinch a victory even if the opponent were God himself (assuming he doesn’t use any supernatural tricks). But does this knowledge really detract from the game? Consider soccer: matches also end either in victory for one side or in a tie, yet we don’t label the sport itself as “unfair” or “futile.” The real charm of any game lies in the fact that the outcome depends on the skills and talent of the players; sometimes it’s also luck. The electrifying combination of these three factors is what captivates spectators. This holds true for football, tennis, and bridge. But not for chess.  

Before We Play 

If chess is unfair, this would mean that, theoretically at least, one could formulate a foolproof method for winning any game—a method that could even be followed by a child, as long as they can read chess notation. Then, even if a Carlsen or Nepomniachtchi were sitting opposite, no matter how valiant a struggle they fought, they would inevitably lose. The child would additionally need to have the ability to choose white or black at the beginning, because such a foolproof method would work only for one particular color. It is suspected that, if such a method existed, it would be for white. Conversely, if chess is a futile game,