What does a verbal model look like?

In the last few articles, we've been talking a lot about verbal models.

Our adult brains are all unique, and they have developed ways they like to do things. When those don't include clear mental images of Chessboards, or any imagery at all, well, many of us get disheartened.

We can barely track everything when we can see it, so tracking everything in our heads with words alone feels impossible.

How can a bunch of words in our heads translate to understanding a Chess position or playing blindfolded?

I'm always excited to work with a verbal thinker. To find how their mind works. It's one of the most fascinating parts of the work I get to do every day.

Over the next few parts of this series, I'm going to share some of the non-visual models I've seen. To give you a sense of the commonalities, and to prove to you there's no "correct" way to do this.

Maybe you'll see something close to what your brain does in here. Or maybe you'll just see the range of ways brains can do this stuff and accept your own kooky method a little more. Either is a great result.

Let's start at the far end of the visual-verbal spectrum, with aphantasia.

No single person has given me a better sense of aphantasia in Chess than IM David Pruess of ChessDojo fame. I learned more about verbal models from David in a single 2.5 hour marathon chat than I had in the months prior.

Finding the natural conceptualization models of masters can be tricky. They have so many patterns stored in their long term memory that their working memory doesn't have as much to do.

To get to a master's natural model, I've learned I need to circumvent those patterns. The easiest way is with random positions.

So I challenged David to a blindfold exercise. I generated a random position with most of the pieces still on the board. The position was legal and technically possible, but would need the most insane series of moves to get there. It bore little resemblance to anything in David's long term memory. Bingo!

Then I read him the locations of the pieces, and sat back to watch his mind in action.

The first time he heard the piece locations, he was surprised by the chaos of the position. It made little Chess sense, but he focused on identifying a few key story elements that he could anchor his sense of the position on.

After one pass through, he had a basic, high-level story of what was occurring, like a blurb you'd find on the back of a book.

The second time he heard the locations, he added detail. Dynamics, attackers, defenders, tactical opportunities. He chose to ignore certain pieces on this pass, as they were less important or harder to tie into everything else.

He talked about the position for a little while, feeling close to comfortable, but not quite there. His initial basic blurb was now something like an outline for a novel — all the main elements, but with bits missing.

By the end of the third run through, David had a deep understanding of the position. He'd connected in those pieces he missed before, and could talk at length about the position. He understood it totally, despite having no mental picture of it and having never seen it on a board.

What was once a blurb, then an outline, was now a full-blown Lord of the Rings style epic. A deep, nuanced understanding of the position in his head, and not a single picture involved.

It was driven entirely by story.

After our meeting, David sent me an email describing in more detail how his mind works during blindfold Chess. And it blew me away.

Every single square on David's mental board has deep, layered, stories attached to it. And these stories all change depending on what's happening elsewhere in the position.

To give a basic example, h7 is a very different square before and after Black's king castles short. It's also a different square if there's a Black knight on f6, or a White bishop on d3. Its meaning changes with each of these factors.

David's stories go much deeper than that basic example above. But take that idea and add IM-level Chess knowledge and experience and you'll have a sense of it.

A few months later I watched David complete a 6-board blindfold simul. He used his stories to do it, tracking everything as if it were right in front of him.

During my first ever major Chess podcast appearance, Kevin from Chess Journeys revealed he has aphantasia also. (The episode is still a good listen if you're interested.)

Then, some time later, I had the honor of coaching Kevin for a few sessions and getting to know how his brain works.

Kevin's model, like David's, is story-driven. As an adult improver, Kevin doesn't have the depth of memorized patterns or catalogue of mental positions that David has. But his mind compensates by building a lot of that stuff on the fly.

He creates and retires stories about what's happening in each position as he goes. And it's with these stories that he tracks what's important, calculates, and strategizes during games.

For Kevin and David, stories are key. But these higher-level stories aren't the only way that fully-verbal models manifest.

My earliest coaching client also has a verbal model. But his is less tuned to stories, and instead to sequences. For him, it's not about the big picture of what's happening, but the concrete flow of this to that to that. That's how his brain ties everything together.

His brain used to run into trouble if he didn't have that sequence to rely on, like in puzzles or blindfold exercises that start in the middle of a game.

If he could start from the starting position, layer each move atop the others in a clear sequence, then he felt a strong grasp of the position. He could conceptualize a long way ahead without losing track of things. But without that foundation of sequence, he struggled.

In the early phases of our work together, we focused on leaning into the sense of sequences, even when he hadn't seen the moves leading to a position. We practiced building sequences out of individual positions. Noting the flow of relationships around the board. "This protects that which is attacked by that which is defended by that et cetera".

The more he could lean on sequences, the more comfortable his mental board became.

It's likely that blindfold legend George Koltanowski had a similar connection with sequences.

Kolty described his conceptualization model as a "mental gramophone". He wrote, "When I want to know what moves have been made, I start the record in my mind. Then I listen".

Later he clarified, "I do not see the board or pieces in my mind; I just remember the moves and 'feel' the position."

(That last part, the "feel the position" part, may be an indicator of something else as well. But we'll explore that in Part 5.)

The centerpiece of Koltanowski's model was this "mental gramophone", an audio "recording" of the moves to date. This then that then that. Each move added to the ones that came before, forming a whole position.

And Kolty completed a 56-board blindfold simul like that in 1960.

Those are four of the fully-verbal models I've seen, and none of them holds their wielder back.

Each of these players have achieved feats in their Chess and their conceptualization that most would be extremely happy with.

My student drew an IM in tournament play for the first time a few months ago, and has gained rating and strength consistently over the whole time we've known each other.

Kevin is a top Chess podcaster and had a crazy burst of improvement and rating growth in the latter part of 2024. He inspired many other adult improvers with it. (Highly recommend his Chess Journeys podcast if you're not already familiar.)

David is an International Master and one of the best Chess instructors in the world. (Many of my members rave about his ChessDojo for their non-conceptualization training.)

And Kolty was made an honorary GM and remains one of the legends of US Chess.

So there's no upper limit to what a fully-verbal conceptualizer can achieve in this game.

A verbal model is not a handicap. Every spot on the spectrum has its strengths and weaknesses. It all evens out in the end.

This article was all about how players with no visuals at all go about things. In Part 4, we'll pull a little away from the edge of the spectrum. We'll look at how things work for people who are primarily verbal, but use a little visual support here and there.

People like me.

Here's to the journey,
Aiden