Short Bursts:
The Chessboard of War: Information, Tactics, and Risk
by Lieutenant Colonel David Holtz, CD

Cover image (inset) Canadian Army Journal, Winter 1961, Illustrator: H.M. Hands
Games like Chess, poker, and the Asian game of Go can all help you appreciate tactics, risk management, and logical thought in a competitive environment. I would like to focus here on chess, which can offer an uncannily close approximation of certain tactical problems.
On the surface, a chessboard seems an entirely transparent battleground—one with neatly arranged pieces and an adversary contemplating in plain sight. It could lead you to believe chess, unlike poker, excludes any dimension of concealed information. However, a closer examination reveals its own “fog of war,” one woven from the intricate patterns of decision-making and reaction.
This illusion of complete information in chess is compelling. But the player, in fact, may perceive only some of the potential manoeuvres the opponent has at their disposal. While one might be aware of the chess pieces' spatial positions, it is impossible to comprehend all the possible trajectories the game could take.
As a player, you may have studied your opponent's historical plays, gaining insight into their typical patterns and preferred strategies. You see a familiar defensive response when you open with a standard Queen's Gambit. Based on your previous knowledge, you predict their next moves and plan accordingly. However, what if your adversary deviates from the norm and moves their bishop, something you had not expected? Your perceived complete information is instantly clouded with unknown variables.
Despite its deceptive simplicity, chess contains a cosmos of possibilities. There are 288 billion potential scenarios in merely the first four turns—far exceeding human computational ability. A game with a 50-turn limit, as stipulated in the rules of chess, can result in up to 10120 different outcomes. To put this staggering figure into perspective, based on current scientific estimates, the total number of atoms in the known universe is a mere 1082. This vast chasm between chess's complexity and the universe's physical limit presents a problem of analytical magnitude beyond the capacity of any mind.
Given these realities, it becomes evident that a player can only rely on a limited analysis and must primarily depend on identifying patterns to discern tactical advantages. Therefore, the notion of complete analysis becomes not only unattainable but, perhaps, unnecessary. Instead, the best chess players synthesize information, making educated guesses based on patterns rather than attempting to calculate all outcomes.
Chess is a mirror reflecting the players’ own human nature and patterns. You can probe the nature of your adversary by initiating certain moves, like offering a gambit. This is the same function that we employ with our armoured and infantry reconnaissance, we want to not only know where our opponent is located but also know how they will react. Understanding the intent and capability of the enemy is critical, but you can gain advantage if you can draw insights from their disposition, their tactical manoeuvre and potential reactions to contact or engagement.
Imagine launching an aggressive opening, deliberately exposing your Queen early in the game. Your opponent, seeing this manoeuvre, makes a series of moves attempting to trap her. However, if this was your intention; your feigned weakness is now a strength. Your opponent's focus on the Queen may allow you to manoeuvre your other pieces strategically, gaining advantage. This situation in chess resonates strikingly with battlefield scenarios where a perceived weakness may be advertised to divert the enemy's focus, allowing for advancements elsewhere.
Chess, with its intricate gameplay and strategic dilemmas, also offers a rich analogy for the complex relationships between information and risk. Much like a commander, a chess player often grapples with decisions that demand the sacrifice of a piece for a prospective positional advantage. It is a dance where the player wagers their assets against uncertainty, never quite certain how their opponent will react. The essence of these decisions mirrors the precarious choices made in tactical operations.
Take the example of a hypothetical military operation. A commander's reconnaissance indicates a weakness in the flank. The commander may decide to divert part of the force, exploiting an information advantage to gain an opportunity. This decision involves risk—the potential exposure of their own forces, the chance that the intelligence is incorrect or outdated, and the very real threat of the unknown. The reward, however, is the potential to break the enemy lines.
This military decision-making process shares an affinity with chess, where a player may decide to sacrifice a knight to exploit an opening in their opponent's defence. Both scenarios represent a gamble based on the available information. Both require decision-makers to balance potential risks against potential rewards.
In battle, there is an additional layer of complexity that does not present in a chess match: the relentless march of time. In chess, potential outcomes multiply exponentially with each move, but the temporal turn-by-turn element remains constant. In military operations, however, time is a volatile variable, impacting risk and opportunity alike.
A delayed decision can transform a prime opportunity into a disastrous pitfall. The enemy adapts, reinforces, or retreats, and weather or logistics can upend the most meticulously laid plans. In this context, the pace of military operations serves as a vital component of risk management—a nuance that chess, despite its strategic, turn-by-turn gameplay, fails to fully capture. To seize advantage while maintaining a rapid operational tempo is a complex juggling act, balancing information, risk, and time, and even the best strategies drawn from chess can only provide a simplified version of this intricate dance.
Much like a game of chess, the art of warfare revolves around imperfect information, calculated risks, and strategic manoeuvre. Learning chess can underline the importance of patterns, the acceptance of uncertainty, and the necessity of synthesis over analysis.
Chess is, therefore, not merely a game, but a simplified model of the complex reality of warfare. It compels us to question our understanding of information, risk, and tactics, leading to deeper insights into the intricate choreography of conflict. As we navigate the board, we also start to navigate the broader landscape of strategy and decision-making.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
With 38 years of service in the Canadian Army, LCol Dave Holtz currently holds the role of Canadian Army Director of Intelligence/Army G2. He has served in various capacities, from staff officer to commanding officer, consistently contributing to team-building and operational efficiency in both the Regular Force and Reserve Force. Recognized with two CDS commendations, he has a Master of Arts in Intelligence Collection from American Military University and a Bachelor of Arts from the University of Manitoba. His skills encompass leadership, intelligence analysis, and effective communication. Beyond his professional life, he is a dedicated father and husband, active in community service, and sits on the Board of Directors for the Canadian Military Intelligence Association.
This article first appeared online in the Short Bursts section of the Canadian Army Journal (September, 2024).
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