All the Right Moves

Has there ever been a more confusing time to think about business strategy? Your most important customer can also be one of your chief competitors -- and one of your key suppliers as well. The fastest-growing markets (especially those driven by the Net) might be the least-profitable markets today -- but they are the markets that will shape the future. The news pages bring word of mergers and strategic alliances that shift the competitive playing field overnight. The name of the game in business strategy today: Think fast. Think under pressure. Think several moves ahead.

It sounds a lot like chess. Bruce Pandolfini doesn't know much about business plans or Internet deals. But he knows more than almost anyone else about thinking strategically. Pandolfini, 51, is one of the most sought-after chess teachers -- and one of the most widely read chess writers -- of the 20th century. He is to chess what Peter Drucker is to management or what Carl Sagan was to science: an instructor, a chronicler, a commentator, a celebrity.

The popular spotlight shone brightest on Pandolfini back in 1993, when Hollywood released "Searching for Bobby Fischer," a film based on the life of one of Pandolfini's students: whiz kid Josh Waitzkin. (Ben Kingsley portrayed Pandolfini.) But Pandolfini's history as a chess master goes back long before his 15 minutes of fame. His role as an analyst for PBS's coverage of the 1972 match between chess superstars Bobby Fischer and Boris Spassky launched him into the limelight. He is the author of 25 books, including "The ABCs of Chess: Invaluable, Detailed Lessons for Players at All Levels" (Fireside, 1986) and "Chess Target Practice: Battle Tactics for Every Square on the Board" (Fireside, 1994). He's also a columnist for "Chess Life," the bible of the chess world.

Today Pandolfini is so well known among chess enthusiasts that he has to be careful about giving out his telephone number or his address. Frantic players, stumped by a problem, have been known to track him down at all hours of the night. Pandolfini no longer frequents chess clubs in New York City, where he lives, because members bombard him with questions about chess problems. He rarely attends his students' tournaments: Other students' parents invariably want him to be their children's teacher too. When he plays online, he usually plays under a pseudonym.

Pandolfini carries an average of 15 private students at a time. But he makes it clear to them (and to their parents) that he is not teaching them how to become great chess players. He is teaching them how to think. "My goal," he says, "is to help them develop what I consider to be two of the most important forms of intelligence: the ability to read other people, and the ability to understand oneself. Those are the two kinds of intelligence that you need to succeed at chess -- and in life."

Pandolfini recently offered Fast Company a master class in the theory and practice of chess -- and in how to think like a champion.

If You See a Good Idea, Look for a Better One

There are lots of misperceptions that influence how people think about -- and play -- chess. Most people believe that great players strategize by thinking far into the future, by thinking 10 or 15 moves ahead. That's just not true. Chess players look only as far into the future as they need to, and that usually means thinking just a few moves ahead. Thinking too far ahead is a waste of time: The information is uncertain. The situation is ambiguous. Chess is about controlling the situation at hand. You want to determine your own future. You certainly don't want your opponent to determine it for you. For that, you need clarity, not clairvoyance.

So the real issue isn't how far ahead great players think, but how they think in the moment. Great players consider their next move without playing it -- and then consider their opponent's response to that move. And they ask questions. The most revealing question is also the simplest question: What would I like to do if I could count on my opponent doing nothing? It's that simple.

But the majority of players don't think that way. Most players look for a "bit": They see a good move, and they make it. That's an error. You should never play the first good move that comes into your head. Put that move on your list, and then ask yourself if there is an even better move. I have seen Gary Kasparov practically sit on his hands to keep himself from making a move. "If you see a good idea, look for a better one" -- that's my motto. Good thinking is a matter of making comparisons.

There's one other misperception about chess: People believe that the better you are, the faster you should win. Chess doesn't work that way. When people tell me that they just won a game in three or four moves, I usually conclude that they're not a very good player -- and that their opponent is a terrible player. Great players want to build their position and to increase their power -- so that, when they strike, there is no defense. You can't do that in only a few moves. Trying to win a game in the fewest number of moves means hoping that your opponent is incompetent. I don't teach students to base their play on hope. I teach them to play for control.