"Genius in Chess" by Jonathan Levitt, 1997 American Batsford
Chess Library, Figurine Algebraic Notation, paperback, 128pp.,
$19.50

Reviewed by Glenn Budzinski

Did you ever wonder, even if for only a moment, whether you had
enough raw talent to make it to the top of the chess world
someday? Does one really have to be a genius to be World
Champion? British GM Jonathan Levitt's "Genius in Chess"
purports to help you determine whether or not you have the right
stuff.

The book consists of 128 pages segregated into four parts, plus a
preface, a forward and an index. Part 1, entitled "The Nature of
Chess Genius", which corresponds to about one- quarter of the
book, is a rather detailed discussion of the correlation between
chess talent and genius, and the influence of IQ. Part 2 includes 8
separate tests (plus solutions) that can be taken to determine, to
some degree, the extent of one's chess talent. A 20-question,
multiple choice test (with answers at the end of the section),
consisting mostly of middle and endgame positions, can be found
in Part III, while the final part offers a few pages of advice on how
to develop one's talent.

The elements of genius, talent and intelligence are interwoven
throughout "The Nature of Chess Genius" narrative section.
Although there is much background information offered about how
the game of chess is learned and understood, be forewarned: light
reading, it is not.

Levitt begins by distinguishing between the concepts of
intelligence, creativity and genius, followed by a close look at what
he believes it means to be a genius at chess. According to him, a
chess genius is a person who exhibits certain traits such as a high
IQ, a strong desire to win, one who is physically capable of
performing his (or her) best at the board, superior concentration,
perhaps a proper background (whatever that may mean), as well as
unusually good perception and vision of the board and positions.
Chess geniuses can be further segregated into two categories: the
"Type A" genius, considered to be a positional or strategic player,
like Steinitz, Capablanca and Karpov; and the "Type B" genius,
such as Lasker, Alekhine, Tal and Kasparov, viewed as calculators
or tacticians. (Fischer and Spassky are identified in a third
category, "Universal", since they are, in Levitt's words, "harder to
call," p. 33.)

For Levitt, chess talent, or potential chess strength (which is
different from current chess strength as determined by tournament
play), is inextricably linked to IQ. In an attempt to quantify just
how closely these two aspects are related, he came up with a
mathematical formula called, not surprisingly, "The Levitt
Equation". This formula calculates an Elo rating which expresses
one's potential chess strength (talent) as being equal to ten times
one's IQ, plus 1000 points. Thus, he claims that Bobby Fischer
once scored 187 on an IQ test so, applying The Levitt Equation,
Bobby's potential chess strength would be equal to a rating of
about 2870 if he reached his peak talent. (187 x 10 = 1870 + 1000
= 2870)

Of course, Levitt admits that there are certain difficulties
associated with attempting to assign a strict numerical value to
something as imprecise as chess talent. As a result, his subsequent
tests will not enable one's "chess genius quotient" (chess talent) to
be measured. According to him, "...the ability to score points in
any test is not the only factor involved in chess success, so any
such measure would be inherently unreliable and perhaps very
misleading" (p. 43).

Thus, when taking the Talent Tests of Part 2, all that one can do to
determine whether one has some talent, is to compare the total time
taken and number of correct responses on each test against the
results given for a handful of mostly British players who, we are
told, are either strong masters or titled players (i.e., GMs like
Short, Sadler, Hodgson and Hertneck), and a few others. As
previously mentioned, no method is provided to arrive at an overall
score of one's chess talent.

There are eight tests contained in Part 2: Count the Moves; Knight
moves; Control and Mobility; King's Square Decision; Mate in
One; Draw Tests; Analysis Test. A typical example of the almost
maddening nature of some of these tests can be seen in the
following Count the Moves test. Set up the following position: 

White: Ke4, Qa3, Rd2, Rf3, Nc6, Ne3, Be1, Bb3; pawns - a2, a4,
a5, f2, f4, g3 Black: Kc3, Rc5,Rg4, Bb7; pawn - a6

To take this test, count the total number of moves for White and of
that total, the number of moves that are mate in one. "Time your
performance...and to encourage accuracy, add ten seconds to your
time for each unit that you are out by, should you not have counted
correctly..." explains Levitt (p. 46). For whatever it's worth, GMs
Hodgson and Short, along with several masters, correctly answered
both parts of the question; GMs Sadler and Hertneck did not. The
latter, in fact, missed the mate in ones by a considerable margin.
(For those of you who cared to try this problem, White has 29
moves and each of them is a mate in one.)

Although there is no discussion of the scoring for the Multiple
Choice Test in Part 3, Levitt states in the preface to that section
that "I should tell you that I have shown some of the trickiest of
these multiple choice questions to some very strong players
(including grandmasters). They did not do at all well and
continually fell into the traps. Number four seems to have thrown
everybody, including even Michael Adams (for ten minutes or so)"
(p. 81). For your amusement (or distress, whichever may be the
most appropriate), here is question #4. Set up the following
position: 

White: Ka2, Bc2; pawns - c7, d2, f5, g5, h5 Black: Kg7, Qd7, Rf8,
Bh8, Ne1; pawns - b6, e6, f7

White is to move and has just been offered a draw by Black.
Should he: A) Jump at the draw offer since he's down a veritable
ton of material; B) Decline the draw and play the combination he
had in mind, or C) Think about it but take the draw anyway, since
it isn't worth taking the risk? (There is also a fourth choice offered
that is clearly not a viable option.) The answer is almost as
complicated as setting up the position: it's C), because after 1 h6+
Kg8 2 h7+ Kxh7 3 fxe6+ Qd3 4 Bxd3+ Kg8 5 e7 Ra8+ 6 Kb1 Be5
7 Be4 Re8 8 Bc6 Bxc7 9 Bxe8 Bd6 10 Ba4 Bxe7 11 Bxd1 Bxg5
12 Kc2, "The position is drawn, though it is simpler for White to
accept the original offer rather than prove that the d-pawn gives
sufficient counterplay in this final position", notes Levitt (p.
104).This is a book fraught with controversy and contradictions.
Trouble begins early on and doesn't end until the reader reaches
Part 4, the book's final, and probably best, six pages. Other than
trying to impress us that he's done his homework researching the
nature of intelligence and IQ testing and their relationship to chess,
Levitt's theme for his 30-plus page, rambling narrative in Part 1 is
unclear. For instance, he goes to great lengths to stress the
inadequacies of IQ as a measuring device and dissuade the
assignment of numerical values to talent tests, only to spend a
disproportionate amount of time discussing IQ testing and
suggesting a formula measuring chess talent based on, what else,
but one's IQ.

To label the Levitt Equation as controversial is hardly a profound
statement, especially considering that the author admits such
himself. This writer wishes to carry the controversy one step
further by questioning the Equation's inclusion. Since the many
mitigating factors make it impossible to quantify overall chess
talent anyway, what is the point of the Levitt Equation, which is an
approximate numerical rating of potential chess strength ? Isn't the
author doing exactly what he said can't be done, because such
would be unreliable and misleading ?

Given the non-chess elements of the subject matter, a bibliography
as well as a description of the author's professional qualifications
would seem to be in order. Unfortunately, neither is provided.

Even the tests are open to certain conjecture. Again, it was not
surprising that two British problemists scored well on many of the
problem-like positions, which would seem to beg the question of
appropriateness of the tests. But the results themselves are difficult
to assess, given the very small and narrow sample of players who
took the tests and the various states of impairment of some of the
subjects (pp. 61, 63, etc.). So, in the end, what does it mean if you
didn't score as well as Nigel Short or Matthew Sadler ? Okay, so
maybe you might not ever become a GM, but does that mean you
just don't have what it takes to make master (assuming, of course,
that any meaning at all can be attached to the results) ? And, how
does one evaluate his performance on the multiple choice test,
without a discussion of results? In fact, why bother to take the tests
at all if you aren't able to interpret the results ?

This writer took the tests--he didn't do as well as the GMs on the
talent tests, correctly answered more than half of the multiple
choice questions, and vaguely remembers that he was given an IQ
test more than 30 years ago and scored somewhere in the 130s on
it, meaning that his potential chess strength should be somewhere
in the 2300s. Unfortunately, he has no more of an idea of the extent
of his chess talent now, than he did before he read this book. There
is, however, one thing that can be said with a degree of certainty: if
chess talent can't be measured and if the tests don't mean anything,
then why do we need this book?