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Philosophy of Go
Keywords: Culture & History
I began to truly study Go and Zen? at about the same time, and although they have been independent interests of mine for some time, I was intrigued to find that as I study the one, the other inevitably comes to mind. It seems likely that more than simple geographical coincidence unites them. I would point out that I am quite the amateur in both fields, but I've noticed some things I thought I might explore here. 1. Victory in Go -- like the enlightenment of Zen -- seems possible through logic alone, but is not. As I understand it, there is a theoretical 'perfect' set of black moves in Go that, if answered by the 'perfect' set of white moves, will result in victory every time. However, the difficulty of computer Go programming demonstrates that this is likely to remain a theoretical concept for quite some time, if not eternity. In a similar way, many students of Zen want to reach enlightenment by asking the right questions of Zen, hoping to reach enlightenment through a binary approach of "Yes, this is Zen / No, that's not Zen." However, every Zen text I've explored has said time and again that this is diametrically opposite to the path of true enlightenment. Therefore, in both cases, an inner source must be consulted, a guiding mechanism that assists in decisions without the benefit (curse?) of inherent logic. Unless we want to assign a name for every possible place one can reasonably place Black 15, our fuseki must rely on something akin to intuition. (Jack Cohen and Ian Stewart explore the grey area between logic and intuition in The Collapse of Chaos.) This guiding mechanism is in both cases made stronger through study (tsumego in Go, koans in Zen), but never perfected. Zen enlightenment can be achieved -- like a Go victory -- but there is no way to assure that it will take place. 2. Go and Zen both require clarity. When the mind is distracted and/or attached to irrelevant matters, it cannot focus on Go or Zen. Of course this could be said for most any game (maybe Craps is an exception), but the point seems especially valid for Go. The difference between two adjacent fuseki moves is potentially huge; to access the source that will inform the decision, the mind must be nimble and clear. This begets many questions about TheIdealGoEnvironment. Suffice here to say that questions of body position, restfulness, hunger/thirst, and general physical readiness matter to the Go player like the players of few other 'board games'. Janice Kim calls Go a martial art akin to Judo or Karate, and I'm inclined to agree. 3. Go and Zen both facilitate clarity. The skilled Go player watches offense as well as defense. She plays moves that strengthen her own positions while attacking her opponent's. She scrutinizes subtle possibilities in minute spots of her stones' shapes, while mentally drawing and redrawing all 361 qi on the board. She respects her opponent and respects the game; each move is made with this in mind. The Zen master reflects on light as well as dark. He seeks enlightenment while aiding others in their quest. He examines the intimate specific patterns in a grain of rice just as he wraps his mind around the entire universe. He respects his teachers and respects Zen itself; each day is lived with the goal of furthering the spirit of Zen. In each case, past experiences make easier the acquisition of clarity, necessary for future development. The game played today (assuming it is played consciously) will not only aid tomorrow's, but every game thereafter. The koan on which the student meditates today will serve her twenty years later. Both spirits reproduce their best outcome in the manifestation of themselves. Further, Go provides a mental clarity that extends far beyond the goban. I have encountered several non-Go situations in the past few months wherein I think: "Ah, this situation can be easily resolved. It has only one eye." I would say that the same applies to Zen, but then Zen encompasses all and therefore by definition applies to everything. 4. Go and Zen both break down hierarchies. Dieter Verhofstadt related a story in RefuseToTakeHandicap about a player new to Go who insisted that insofar as "inequality did not exist and was not celebrated by something as tangible as stones" in Zen, there was no need for handicap stones. This an exact reversal of how I would interpret the link between Zen's conception of inequality and Go handicap. If by inequality we mean "a condition whereby two things are not identical in terms of their relative position to a certain ideal," then of course inequality exists in Zen. If one person (let's call her Thelma) has attained enlightenment, and another (Louise) has not, then there is an inequality. Thelma and Louise are not equals in terms of their levels of enlightenment. What Zen tries to do, however, is break down the significance of that inequality vis a vis other activities and conditions. So for instance the Zen master Gisan instructed his students to give leftover water to the plants, rather than waste it -- showing the equality of plants' need for water. Obviously, the lack of opposable thumbs indicates an inequality between plants and humans; but the spirit of Zen encourages the dissolution of the hierarchy of significance: What does it mean for the plants to be unequal to us in terms of having opposable thumbs? Does that mean that they are unequal in terms of deserving life? This is exactly the point of handicap Go stones. Let's assume that Thelma, in addition to being enlightened, also knows the aforementioned "perfect" sequence of black stone placement. She will therefore be able to defeat Louise every time. If there is no assumed inequality between Thelma and Louise, then Thelma is assured victory. The only way to create an equal challenge is to alter the initial state of the board so that the "perfect" sequence cannot be applied. There is no point in pretending that all players are equal; the question is how to make the challenge equal. 5. Playing Go and the path to Zen are both enjoyable. I've studied a variety of religions (although never in much depth, insofar as the moment I hit dogma I tend to retreat), and have yet to feel the same small sense of "aha!" that I often get from Zen koans or tales from the masters. I feel as though each time I sit down to read a story about Bankei (one Zen master to whom I have taken a particular shine), I will be in some way entertained. (I recognize that much of Zen is not fun or entertaining, and that the quest for enlightenment is a serious endeavor that demands sacrifice. But it appears so much less tedious than, say, Catholicism.) I don't pretend that I will reach enlightenment just by reading a koan, but often I do feel at least slightly more aware. I feel the same way about Go -- each game presents an entirely blank slate upon which I may spend some time playing at the art. My goal is to be happy with the art (ie, win the game). But even losing can be pleasurable. In both cases, I feel sure that regardless of whether I reach my destination (whether I win or lose, whether I am enlightened or not), I will enjoy walking the path. Okay, enough of this. -- Scartol HolIgor: Go is considered a form of art rather than a competitive game in the East. But, naturally, it is a competition first of all and a very cruel competition, a fight of characters. The main idea is to convince your opponent that your threat is larger than her's. The characters clash. Many games are developed in the way that after a short period of maneuvering with the placement of stones some of the opponents makes a move that claims too much, just a little to much, at least a little more than the other player is ready to give. It is a matter of both skills and determination then. You have to develop an inner strength to be up to the challenge. Despite the fact that go is a form of art you seldom enjoy the artistic values of it in your own games. There is too many mistakes in them and the post game analysis almost always shows that your win is due to the mishap of your opponent rather than your own skill in finding a kami no itte. This is said. But this is true from the point of view of a practical player. Scartol: The following occurs to me (having just watched the movie ''Pi''). Go (like Zen) is part knowledge, part intuition. When playing, one must (especially during fuseki) act on reading outside the board. Who is your opponent? Do you need to play aggressively or defensively? Will she be tricked by deceptive plays? Will she recognize a sneak attack? We might say that there is a certain set of common fuseki. Let's call this order. We play one of the common patterns, and continue along the path until someone makes an uncommon move. Now the board becomes chaotic. Chaos ensues until one of the recognizable shapes emerges. At that point, there is often a vital point which must be secured or attacked. Pure order. But abandoning a 90% dead shape too soon is a mistake (suppose you found that 10% lifeline?), as is continuing with a 100% dead shape. The chaos re-emerges when the player decides when to abandon ship, and move on to another place on the board. Meanwhile, the patterns and shapes are all interacting with one another, and based on a large variety of elements (luck, foresight, proper intuition, the will of the gods), these interactions may or may not prove victorious. Could it be said, then, that the key to winning on the 'total board' comes in knowing when to move between order and chaos? If so, then this seems to be a uniquely human characteristic, and computers will likely never be able to achieve it. the quest for a kami no itte is a quest to create pure order on the goban, a quest no less foolish than trying to create pure order throughout the universe. This train of thought is continued in the movie ''Pi''.. To keep the focus of this page on philosophy (particularly of the Zen variety), I've moved a discussion that used to be here to a page called Does Kami No Itte Exist -- Scartol The ideas represented herein are continued (some might say to a silly extent) in an article by Ernest Brown in the American Go Journal (24:1, Winter 1990) entitled "Go: The Study of Buddhist Ideals." See also The Zen Way to Go. This is a copy of the living page "Philosophy of Go" at Sensei's Library. ![]() |