ChessBase Magazine #225: 10 Opening Articles Won't Save a Shifting Business Model

On 8 October, ChessBase pushed the 225th issue of its magazine to the server. I opened the file, skimmed the list of contributors, and stopped at a single number: 27. That is the number of short games — "miniatures" — chosen for the "Special" section. Not 27 good games. Not 27 classic games. Twenty-seven games ending before move 30, usually because one side committed a fatal tactical error.

I have sat at the board since 2026. I have commentated on nearly every final of the Karpov and Kasparov era, and I learned a rule no book writes down: the number of short games a publisher chooses to print is inversely proportional to their faith in the opening ideas they themselves advertise. This year they printed 27 short games, plus 10 opening articles with "new ideas". That number tells me more than the other 200 pages combined.

ChessBase Magazine is not a news magazine. It is training material, and I need to say that clearly before anyone compares it to a sports newspaper. Issue 225 gathers analysis from Aravindh, Anish Giri, Gurel and David Navara — four players from four different countries — alongside opening videos by Werle, King and Ris. The main content revolves around the Chess Festival Prague 2026, where top players analyse their own best games and explain the ideas behind the moves.

The structure is clear. A "Special" section of 27 short games for entertainment and instructive errors. An opening video section. And 10 opening articles promising "new repertoire ideas". The format is the ChessBase Book — readable on iPad, Mac and tablet, a download rather than a paper volume.

There is also a headline mentioning Saint Louis, where "America's chess elite" will compete — an event not described in detail in the content, but enough for me to question the publisher's market strategy.

I have tracked the chess training market in India for two decades. In Delhi, where I live and make my podcast, a student pays around 2,000 rupees a month for a coach. A ChessBase Book file costs about the same as one lesson. So the question is not "is the content good". The question is what this content replaces in a real week of training.

Start with the 27 short games. In chess, a miniature is a game ending under 30 moves. Publishers choose them for three obvious reasons: easy to read, easy to remember, easy to sell. But there is a fourth reason few mention. A short game usually teaches exactly one lesson — one specific tactical error. Twenty-seven short games teach you 27 mistakes. No more.

That is not bad. But it reveals the order of priorities. A magazine with 10 opening articles of "new ideas" that still devotes an entire "Special" section to 27 short games is sending a clear signal: they are not sure their opening ideas are strong enough to stand alone. When you sell theory, you need the audience to believe that theory is the centre. When you attach 27 short games, you are telling the audience the real fun lies elsewhere.

Ten opening articles is a notable number. The opening is where theory is most thoroughly commercialised in chess. When a magazine promises "new repertoire ideas", it is selling preparation. And preparation, at the top, has real cash value. I once watched an Indian player change coaches simply because a new line of theory appeared in an opponent's preparation room. In chess, a better move 12 can be worth half a point.

But here I have to be blunt: no opening article in a general-interest magazine survives longer than three weeks in the engine era. Stockfish does not read magazines. A "new" idea on paper can be refuted by an engine in a single run at depth 40. That means the real value of these 10 articles is not their "newness" but their "explanation" — why an idea makes human sense even when the engine does not fully agree.

The contributor list tells me more than any advertisement. Aravindh comes from India — a country producing young players faster than anywhere else. Anish Giri is Dutch, one of the world's leading players and famous for opening theory. David Navara has been Czech number one for years. Gurel comes from Turkey. Four countries, four schools, four ways of seeing the same position.

When a magazine assembles such a multinational team, it sells content, and it sells credibility alongside. The credibility of Giri and Navara is a real asset, but it is also a debt: it raises expectations without automatically guaranteeing depth on every page.

On the Chess Festival Prague 2026, one detail needs to be clear. It is a festival, not a leg of the World Championship cycle. Festivals usually include both an invitational and an open, multiple time controls, and their goal is to promote chess rather than to decide a champion. When a magazine chooses to analyse a festival, it chooses diversity over the highest level of competition. For a training product, that is a reasonable choice. For a news product, it is a weakness.

And I must repeat something I have written for ten years: silent applause can kill emotion, but it cannot kill tactics. A festival without spectators can still produce games worth studying. But a festival without spectators can also become a closed training ground where players choose safety to protect their rating. And a safe game does not teach much.

Now comes the part where I may be wrong.

There is an assumption I brought into this piece: that paid content is losing to free content. That is true for game analysis. A free engine is stronger than any commentator, and it never tires. But it is false for something else: selection. A good coach does not give you every move. He gives you the move that fits your level, at the moment you need it. An engine cannot do that. ChessBase, by choosing Giri over Stockfish, is selling exactly that selection.

I once mispronounced a player's name, then read the position correctly when the slow-motion replay appeared before my eyes. That lesson taught me that the value of an analyst lies not in knowing more than the machine, but in knowing what matters to a human being who is learning.

If I am wrong anywhere, it is here: I am judging a training product by the yardstick of a news product. Twenty-seven short games are not meant to replace deep analysis — they are exercises. And a well-chosen exercise can teach more than a long chapter of theory. Mistakes are not frightening; bending down to pick up the tape at 2 a.m. is what makes a forecaster. I did that with 20 games from the 2026 to 2026 World Cups, and I understand why people need exercises more than theory.

But there is one point I will not concede. A magazine advertising "first-class training material" without any independent verification relies entirely on brand credibility. And brand credibility is the most easily lost thing in an era when a 14-year-old player can run an engine and find the answer alone.

My prediction, verifiable: within 12 months, products like the ChessBase Book will shift from selling "opening ideas" to selling "graded mistake exercises" — because that is where humans still beat engines. If issue 226 still carries 10 opening articles labelled "new", I start to doubt. If they switch to selling graded exercises, I am the first to subscribe. Ten years standing in controversy, the fire from that 2026 question still burns — and it burns for the same reason: I do not ask whether content is good or bad. I ask what it changes for someone sitting at a board at 2 a.m.