Aging & Wisdom Quote by Boris Spassky

Chess doesn’t become “important” because grandmasters decree it so; it becomes important when teenagers decide it’s worth their attention. Spassky’s line is a neat reversal of status: he refuses to treat chess as a museum piece guarded by experts and instead ties its social standing to the tastes, restlessness, and impatience of youth. The phrasing is almost bureaucratically calm, but the message is blunt: if young people walk away, chess shrinks into nostalgia.

The intent feels practical, even slightly anxious. Spassky isn’t talking about brilliance on the board; he’s talking about cultural oxygen. Youth “attitude” stands in for everything chess institutions can’t fully control: whether the game feels welcoming or elitist, whether it’s taught as discovery or as drill, whether it looks alive in schools, clubs, media, and now screens. His “our game” carries a gentle possessiveness, but also responsibility: the chess world can’t just claim ownership, it has to earn relevance.

Context matters. Spassky came of age when chess was a prestige industry, especially in the Soviet ecosystem, where the game symbolized intellect and national power. In that environment, chess could coast on state support and mythmaking. By linking chess’s place in society to young people, he’s forecasting a post-propaganda reality: attention is the real subsidy. The subtext is a warning to gatekeepers and traditionalists: the future of chess isn’t secured by history, titles, or reverence, but by whether the next generation feels it belongs to them.