The Zen of Go for Chess Players - Part 2

As per my last post: I've been learning Go. It's a brilliantly rich game with some fascinating ideas. Here are a few that I think are particularly interesting from the perspective of a chess player.

Shape and Aji

Go players strongly emphasise the importance of good shape. If your stones have good shape, they are efficient and strong: hard to poke at, cut apart and kill.

This shape idea applies to some extent in chess as well. Harmoniously placed pieces defend each other, and are flexible and mobile. Misplaced, awkward or loose pieces are prone to falling into tactical problems, and can be labelled poor shape.

Here are a couple of positions from my recent online games where material is level, but one side has an enormous shape advantage because their pieces are so much more harmoniously placed:


Example 1: All of white's pieces look fantastic, and black's position looks like it is on the verge of imploding. Black's pawns are a mess, with weaknesses everywhere. The bishop on f8 is entombed, which leaves black underdeveloped with a king stranded in the centre. Compy evaulates this as +2.2.


Example 2: White's pieces are horribly misplaced and white is almost completely paralysed. On the other hand, all of black's pieces are defended and beautifully active. The black rook can simply invade and eat all of whites pawns, so Compy evaluates this as -4.4.

Poor shape can also leave Aji ("ah-jee") for your opponent to exploit.

Aji literally means "taste", and in a go context, sort of means "potential for bad stuff to happen". If your position has bad Aji, then there are some moves in the air that, even if not an immediate problem, might come back and bite you later. Finding opportunities to cash in aji to get something tangible out of a position is a delicate matter.

This position is an example of a chess position with Aji. White's pieces are very vulnerable to getting kicked around by blacks pawns, and the rook on e4 is seriously short of squares. The computer says that things are about level and everything is OK, but it's very easy to imagine white making a slip and running into f4->f5 problems.


The value of a move in Go is very high, so correcting past shape mistakes is very expensive. You would much rather that a formation of stones placed on the board in the early game is able to fend for itself, rather than obliging you to go back and add defensive moves to it later in the game.

Chess is a more tactical game, and sometimes positions sometime call for concrete moves that look like precarious nonsense. Nonetheless, an intuition for "good shape" is crucial in for both chess and go.

Sente, Gote and Tenuki

Go has some very clear concepts around the urgency of moves. English doesn't really have words that captures the exact meaning, so western Go players borrow Japanese terminology.  Chess players will immediately regonise the ideas, but it's rather nice to have some more language to describe it.

A sente ("sent-ay") move is one that carries a threat. Sente moves force a direct response, as a follow up move is too advantageous to allow.

The opposite, a move that carries no real threat of follow up, is called gote ("goat-ay").

If you can achieve something in such a way that your opponent is obliged to make the final move of the sequence, you do it in sente. That means you get to make the next move again at the next big area, and you get to keep the initiative.

To tenuki is to not directly respond to your opponents move, and instead do something else more important elsewhere. Especially interesting situations arise when players disagree on the importance of a threat! If player A thinks a move is sente, but player B disagrees and tenukis, then player A might have an opportunity to punish B for their insouciance...

Go has developed these concepts very well, I think again perhaps because the value of a move in Go is so high. The player that goes second (white) is given a handicap of 6.5 points to even things up, so one measure of the value of a move at the start of the game is double that: 13. In contrast, the margin for victory in go between strong players is often <5 points!

This all might seem a bit abstract, but I think the main point is that moves are valuable. The initiative is hugely important and it shouldn't be squandered on trivialities. It's often good to ask yourself if you really do need to respond to what your opponent is doing, or if advancing your own agenda would be a better idea.

The following was a particularly fun game on the theme of sente moves and tenukiing. On move 13 and 14, black decided white's move wasn't actually sente, so continued playing actively.




To conclude, the chess world needs the word sente. Go can have "zwischenzug" in return!

The Zen of Go for Chess Players - Part 1

I have recently been dabbling in another two player, perfect information, abstract strategy board game of black vs white: Go.

Go is a fantastic game, with incredibly simple rules but enormous depth. It occupies a similar space in some Asian cultures that western chess does for much of Europe and America. It has also been in the news a fair bit over the last few years due to some incredible breakthroughs in the field of Go AI, spearheaded by DeepMind.

Here is a quick run through of the rules:

  • Players take turns placing stones on the vertices of a 19x19 square grid, like this:




  • Stones do not move once placed, but if you manage to completely surround a contiguous blob of enemy stones such that it has no internal territory at all, all of the stones in the surrounded group are captured.
  • The main aim of the game is to surround areas of the board to claim as your own. The player that has fenced off the largest area at the end of the game is the winner. Captured stones (or stones given up for dead) also count towards your final score.

Apart from some edge cases around infinite repetitions and scoring, that really is the entirety of the game!

So why is Go so interesting (and so hard!)?

Firstly, there is a rich tactical layer to the game. Knowing which patterns most efficiently stake out an area, how to attack your  stones and how to defend your own is a tricky business. Experienced go players instinctively know which formations are flexible and resilient, which are weak, and how to sniff out attacking sequences that cut off and encircle stones as if by magic.

But even more fascinating is the delicate strategic balance at the heart of the game. Go forces you to decide between being spreading yourself too thin and leaving yourself open to counterattack, or being over-concentrated and ending up with too little territory. Striking that balance correctly, and judging where both players stand in the rapidly shifting sands of a go middle game is a core skill for Go players.

Go is an excellent game in its own right, but as I'm much more familiar with western chess, I find it fascinating to draw parallels. So, over my next few posts, I'll explore some ideas and terminology from Go that I think are interesting, and ponder how they apply in the context of chess.

Chess #1: A Yawnfest

I played a chess match yesterday, so let's start the chess blogging. Unfortunately the game might be the dullest I've ever played:



A draw as black against a 150 is a decent enough result, but this was a pretty anticlimactic game after a 50 minute schlep out to zone 5. The Alapin is not an ambitious way for white to play against the Sicilian, and as black, I didn't really have much reason or opportunity to spice things up.

To be fair, there were a couple of places we could have played a bit more accurately:
  • The pseudo pawn sac e6 was a strong idea after 12... Bc6 and 13... Nc4. I shouldn't have allowed that, and my opponent should have played it.
  • 23. Be7 from white just chased my rook to the where it wanted to go and left me with no problems. Instead, white should have dislodged my bishop from d5 with another pseudo pawn sac idea: c4. Taking the pawn would allow white's rook to get to b7, which would have been awkward, and most likely, I would have just backed down with Bc6.
  • I probably could have pressed for a bit longer before taking the draw. My king can get into the game via h7, and then try to "do something" against the split a, c and e pawns. It would be hard to pressure these pawns much when they're so solidly covered by the DSB, but there's not a lot of risk in trying. Perhaps my young opponent would have been generous enough to conform to the stereotype and play an terrible endgame.
Hopefully I'll have something more eventful to show next time!

Meandering #1

I recently noticed that someone had registered the .com version of my very own name. Someone else. Outrageous.

What if some nefarious outfit had turned it into a hub for trading rhino horns, or something equally unsavory? My good name would be ruined. Fortunately, it turns out that that [me].com just redirects to a generic looking advert for some creative studios, and while I couldn't even begin to guess what the creatives there actually do, I very much doubt it involves rhino horns. Bullet dodged.

Nonetheless, I thought I should take all steps to minimise future risks of that nature, and duly grabbed jeremylaw.net. Having done that, I thought I might as well put something on it, and so, I announce my grand entrance onto the web in the form of a blog post. How very 2002 of me.

This little corner of the internet is intended as an outlet for thoughts on various things of interest to me. Perhaps principally the following:
  • Chess
  • Music
  • Food
... or anything else I've been up to recently that I feel like sharing with the world.

The title will have to do for now. I like portmanteaus, and featuring the word "meandering" seems appropriate for the sort of eclectic ramblings that I expect will form the bulk of the content here. If there is any content to speak of, that is.