My New Year's resolution for 2009 was to play a game of chess every day. The theory behind this was that chess is something us intellectual-types are supposed to be good at, and I'd hate to let down the team with my horrible chess skills. It's like, if you say you're a physics major, people are going to ask you about their homework, and you'll look a little silly if you can't help them. In the same way, if people are expecting me to be an engaged, intelligent individual, they're going to be disappointed unless you can beat them at chess.
The easiest way of looking like you know what you're doing, of course, is to know a few good openings by name. That way, you can stroke your chin and say "Caro-Kann defense...interesting..." after your opponent moves. It has a great psychological effect. (You can also announce your moves in dramatic anime-fight-scene style. "Scandinavian Variation! Hiiyah!"). The other advantage, of course, is that a good opening gives you a positional advantage, which gives you a leg up during the mid-game and improves your odds of building a winning attack.
The same, interestingly, can be said of philosophies. If you're debating a philosophical topic, the easiest way to 'win' is to know what your opponent's ideas are called and the most common refutations. That win is in single-quotes, you notice, because really debate is meaningless unless it leads you to further inquiry. On the flip-side, Socrates rose to prominence primarily by crushing his opponents in a series of intense, one-on-one, mano-a-mano philosophy debates, so I do feel there's something to be said for the practice.
And of course, there's always the chance that knowing some philosophy actually might make you a better philosopher...
The French Defense - The French is one of the simplest alternatives to 1.e4 e5. The idea behind this defense is, well, defense. From the get-go, Black focuses on building a solid pawn structure in the center, conceding white his first-move advantage. The variation here is the "advance variation" - White takes the same tact as Black, keeping his pawns in tight ranks and using his lead in development to secure space in the center, into which he hopes to later develope his pieces.
Descartes followed a method of the same nature. From his first steps, he is the total conservative, attempting to lay a rock-solid foundation that will prove impervious to later attack. Descartes tried to use only what he could be sure of: That he existed, that he could reason, that there was an omnipotent benevolent God... That last bit indicates the weakness of this method: Just because you take something as given is no guarantee everyone else does, and when they bring it up you're going to look pretty silly trying to explain yourself. The French Defense, as well, has its flaws: by taking a passive approach, the opponent can devote his full energies to the assault, and any fortress will eventually fall to a determined foe.
The Nimzo-Indian Defense - The Nimzo-Indian is just the opposite. Part of the Hypermodern School of Chess (and why there's no Hypermodern School of Philosophy is beyond me), the Nimzo-Indian is all about the counter-attack. Rather than controlling the center by advancing pawns into it, Black threatens it from the flanks, and later moves for a quick pin on White's knight. When hypermodernism first came to the fore, it went against the entirity of established chess theory, and won many shocking victories against older, more established styles.
Nietzsche used much the same method. His basic premise is not so much an attempt at formulating a new ethical system as it is an attack on the established moralities of the times. Nietzsche's main argument is essentially "Your beliefs are a needless constraint. Get rid of them, and make up your own." Like the Hypermodernists, Nietzsche was shocking in his time, but gradually older schools of thought adapted to these attacks, and their impact was reduced.
Guioco Piano - One of the oldest known openings, the "quiet game" (as it means in Italian) focuses on the development of White's pieces in the center, with Black developing symetrically. While the name suggests a slow, positional game, Guico Piano still threatens some dangerous attacks, like the infamous Fried Liver Attack (not even making this up). A good understanding of the Guioco Piano provides an interesting insight into chess' earlier days, and the opening is an excellent case to study given its long history.
Aristotle is much the same. His ideas were some of the earliest dominant examples of empirical philosophy, with endless tomes from the medieval period dedicated to his work. Even moreso than Plato, Aristotle formed the groundwork of Western philosophy. A fairly balanced system of thought, Aristotle pursued knowledge carefully but with purpose. While he seems somewhat dated today (his scientific theories are a bizarre mix of laughably wrong and jaw-droppingly right), knowing Aristotle provides an understanding both of philosophy's history and its growth.
Ruy Lopez - The Ruy Lopez is another well-established opening, played originally by a Spanish Catholic bishop of the same name. Initially, it resembles the Piano: the Knights are developed to the same positions, followed by White bringing out the bishop. In the Lopez, however, the bishop moves to threaten Black's knight. The threat here is to capture the knight, leaving the pawn on e5 undefended from the white knight, thereby winning a pawn and securing a dominant place in the center. The Ruy Lopez has dozens of variations, all based on applying indirect pressure to Black's center.
Ruy Lopez is to Guioco Piano as Plato is to Aristotle. While both seem to follow similar beginings, and in the end both have similar implications, the methods employed are completely different. Rather than codifying and studying like Aristotle, Plato advanced his concept of Forms, the ideas inherent in real-world objects. Aristotle's direct, empirical approach is the opposite of Plato's rationalism and focus on the ideal.
Alekhine's Defense - Which brings us to Socrates. The Socratic method, which consists of asking and answering questions to help understand or refute a certain position, is the basis for many of Plato's earlier dialogues, which more than likely bear at least some resemblence to Socrates' actual lessons. Over and over, Socrates plays the fool, seemingly going along with an opponent's arguments only to reveal a crucial contradiction, which causes the opponent's position to collapse.
The above is a variation of Alekhine's Defense called the Four Pawns Attack. Black seemingly allows his knight to be pushed all around the board, while White establishes an imposing pawn center. However, the center is over-reached to the point of being impossible to defend, and eventually Black hopes to counterattack, causing the pocket to collapse and leave White's king vulnerable. Like Socrates, Alekhine's Defense seeks to poke and prod an opponent into overstepping their limits.
In closing, I'll admit that I don't really understand any of these openings as well as I should (though I'm getting pretty good at Guioco Piano), and the same goes for the philosophies. There's an enormous complexity to even simple games, and to understand even a single school of thought completely can take a lifetime. More important is to know a little bit of everything; that way, you'll at least have a clue about how to counter a Richter-Veresov Attack.
Next Time: Nihilism & The Dread Cthulhu
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