The Unwatchable Board: Why Chess Fails the Spectacle Test

Hook On an evening in 2026, I was watching a blitz tournament on a hybrid streaming platform. The engine bar on screen showed 0.00, a long grey line. The commentator was shouting, 'This move by Nakamura is historic!', but a non-chess viewer sitting next to me asked after 30 seconds, 'Who is winning?' I looked up and saw the position was actually a draw. There is no sweat on screen, no running, no 'final sprint'. Just two people sitting, and a clock ticking.

This experience keeps bringing me back to an uncomfortable question: Can chess actually be watched as a 'game'? Or is it essentially a strategic puzzle, which requires the viewer to be prepared to appreciate it?

Context Recently, former Indian badminton player and sports sustainability expert Naganethra Reddy described chess as 'one of the least expressive sports I have ever watched'. This comment reflects the feeling of a large section of sports fans who have grown up with badminton rallies, Formula E speeds, or football drums.

But there is a fundamental confusion here. Reddy conflates 'expressiveness' and 'watchability'. Visibility of effort and attractiveness of the game are not the same. In a 90-minute football match, if there are no goals, the viewer still buys a ticket even if it ends 0-0. Because there, running, tackling, and tactical build-up create a physical language. In chess, that language is absent. Here, 'expressiveness' does not mean physical, but mental—and mental states cannot be captured on screen.

Core Analysis I first understood this problem in 2026 when I went to the Purana Paltan press room in Dhaka for a chess report. A journalist looked at my 23 diagrammed positions and said, 'tactics is a man's read'. My editor cut out the 23 diagrams and printed only 400 words of result.

But the problem was not in my writing. The problem was in the event's presentation.

1. The Engine Bar is an Artificial Solution In modern chess broadcasting, the Engine Bar (Eval Bar) is an essential tool. It tells the viewer who is ahead. But this bar is actually an 'external' addition—it is not chess's own language, but a binary translation. Just as run-rate is naturally understood in a One-Day cricket match, that is absent in chess. Without the engine bar, a non-chess viewer cannot tell who is winning even after 10 moves. This does not make chess watchable; rather, it forces the viewer to look at a parallel screen.

2. The Economy of Silence At the 2026 Batumi Olympiad, I filled 212 notebook pages. 17 out of 44 games were draws. I know how many points Bangladesh's open team scored in 11 rounds out of 180 teams. But what did an ordinary spectator in the stadium see? They saw two people sitting, occasionally moving a piece, and looking at the clock.

Later, at the 2026 Chennai Olympiad, 78-year-old Rani Hamid scored 3/7 on board one. This result is dramatic, but on screen her 'expression' was zero.

3. The Platforms' Artificial Drama Streaming platforms have created 'personality-led coverage' to fill this gap. Hikaru Nakamura's stream, Alexandra Botez's commentary, or Levy Rozman's reactions—these are not the chess board, but the streamer's face. Viewers do not come to watch chess; they come to watch the streamer's reaction. This is not chess's popularity, but the popularity of streaming culture.

Contrarian Angle The biggest counter-argument here is: If chess is 'inexpressive', why did its viewership grow between 2026-2026?

The answer is—viewership grew not because of 'drama' or 'emotion', but because of 'access' and 'stakes'. During the pandemic, online chess became a social platform. The Queen's Gambit series brought an entirely new population to the game. The 'revenge' narrative in the Magnus Carlsen vs Hikaru Nakamura match was there.

But none of this increased chess's 'expressiveness'. Rather, it proves—viewers actually want to see 'drama', not the 'game'. And in physical sports, drama comes naturally; in chess, it must be artificially created.

Another aspect is: the 'inexpressive' criticism is not of the chess board, but of 'format'. Short draws, rapid tiebreaks, or Sofia Rules—these are acknowledgements of this problem. Anti-draw rules were introduced at the 2026 Sinquefield Cup because organizers knew—viewers do not want to see consecutive draws.

Takeaway Every night I keep 1,240 positions in a database, which I created by replaying 480 games from the 2026-2026 golden era during the 2026 furlough. Each entry in that database has a 'space' symbol, a 'tempo' symbol. But there is not a single symbol that measures the viewer's heartbeat.

The question is—if chess wants to survive as a 'game', does it need to change its own language? Or do its viewers need to learn a new language? Outside this triangle of engine bar, commentary, and streamer's face—can chess create an independent viewer experience?

I do not know the answer. But I know—the day someone in the press room asks 'Who is winning?' and the camera turns on them, that day chess will pass its real test.