Permission to be a beginner
People often ask me how to get better at chess. My honest answer disappoints them. But to give it properly, I need to start somewhere else.
I've been noticing something. Most adults are afraid to try new things. It's strange. We humans are fascinated by novelty. So why does it switch off the moment it comes to work or career?
Two days ago, I spoke with someone who was exceptionally bright but has now lost enthusiasm for learning. I am sure you've seen it too. The friend who wanted to learn music for ten years but never tried it seriously. The colleague who says "I'm too old for that" about something they clearly want to do. Why don't we scratch that itch?
I have a theory. It goes back to school.
It's not about any school or an institution in particular. The problem is the design itself.
The traditional school system works outside-in. Someone else asks the questions. You supply the answers.
Real learning is the exact opposite. It starts inside, with a question that is yours. Your intuition came up with it. It's pointing somewhere.
But the system hands you borrowed questions. One borrowed question at a time, the curiosity you were born with gets pruned out of you.
Chess is where I lived the opposite. Why did this move lose? What was he afraid of? What happens if I prepare this opening? Nobody gave me these questions. They kept me awake like a child on the night before a picnic. I woke up at 2 am with ideas. Tried them out. Got instant feedback. Changed my assumptions and went at it again. I had my own experiment lab. The questions were mine. Learning was a natural by-product of trial and error.
You'll say the system produces brilliant minds. True. But they come through despite it, not because of it. You watched them cross the finish line and assumed it was a 100-meter sprint. It was a hurdle race.
The system slowly takes two things from you. Your ability to listen to your intuition — that natural voice which was seeking answers, disguised as a question. And your ability to be okay with failing while trying.
Most of us have lost that natural learning. We have a reputation to protect. A status. An image of being smart or perfect. Asking a naive question threatens that core image, so we stop asking. Trying something new is exciting. Why kill that excitement with the fear of looking bad?
Kids have none of that. They aren't afraid of failing. Of feeling stupid. Well, at least not yet. Traditional education is where wrong answers start getting punished.
The moment you become afraid of feeling stupid, you stop growing. That is why people don't try new things. They can still learn. But learning started to feel like a threat instead of a joy.
We don't lack information. Now an AI can point you at all the resources in the world. There is no dearth of coaches or training material. What we truly lack is the permission from ourselves to be a beginner. The permission to fail.
So when someone asks me how to get better at chess, they expect a list. Openings, books, a training plan. My real answer is this.
Wanting to learn is more important than knowing how to learn.
Loving learning is more important than wanting to learn.
Love learning. Everything else simply follows.
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