Category: Intellect

From Camels to Bishops: The Fascinating Evolution of Chess Pieces | February 14 2026, 16:24

It all started with a question – why does the elephant ♗ have this notch? And in general, where is the elephant, and where is the bishop, and is this notch about the elephant or the bishop? Anyway, listen to what I dug up, there’s a lot of interesting stuff here.

Chess originates from India. There, this figure was initially called a camel. And their elephant was what we call a rook – which if you think about it, a rook is basically a boat – or in English, rook, which if you think about it in Persian, it means chariot.

The name “Tura”, which we often hear in colloquial speech, is a pure import from Europe. In French – tour. In Italian – torre. In Latin – turris. All of these mean the same thing: tower. When chess arrived in Europe, knights and monks didn’t really understand what a “battle chariot” was (they were out of fashion by then), but they knew very well what a siege tower was.

So, returning to the elephant and the notch.

The short answer – to distinguish it from a pawn. But there’s a long answer.

When chess came to Europe, the Indian camel was switched to the Catholic bishop, and thus the piece was named bishop. The notch supposedly symbolizes a miter – the high headgear of clergymen. That’s precisely why in English the piece is called bishop. Though to me, it’s just a mouth from the Muppet show.

Interestingly, in French, it’s le fou – the jester. In German, it’s Läufer – runner. In Greek – officer (Αξιωματικός). Why officer? I don’t know, but I dug up that in Chinese chess, xiangqi (象棋), the “elephant” piece is indicated and pronounced as xiàng (象). This character indeed means “elephant.” However, in Chinese history, there was a high state office called xiàng (相), usually translated as “chancellor,” “prime minister,” or “chief minister.” This is a different character, although the pronunciation coincides. Probably, the officer comes from here too.

The chess knight is almost a horse in all languages, only in English and a few others, it’s a knight (although, in German, for example, it’s Springer – jumper, and in Sicily – donkey).

So, in German, there is a jumper and a runner. And a little horse in German is actually a king.

I also learned that there are ready-made solutions for ANY chess endgame in which there are seven or fewer pieces on the board, regardless of the position, the composition of the remaining pieces, or possible moves. This information, known as endgame tables, currently occupies 18.4 terabytes.

from the comments: “The most interesting thing is that this week a multi-year work was completed, and there is now a ready solution for any position with 8 pieces or fewer (7 pieces was already about 12 years ago, but there’s a very big difference)”

The Unintended Consequences of Misguided Incentives | January 04 2026, 13:30

About KPIs. In English, there’s a concept called perverse incentive, “a harmful stimulus.” It occurs when you try to quash evil, but the methods become the perfect fertilizer for it. There’s a saying, “When a measure becomes a target, it ceases to be a good measure” (Marilyn Strathern based on Goodhart’s Law).

A classic example is the “Cobra Effect.” In colonial India, the British decided to reduce the snake population and offered a reward for every head. The plan seemed as reliable as a Swiss watch until Indians began breeding cobras on farms for the “harvest.” When the authorities realized they were being duped and cancelled the payments, the farmers simply released the now-useless snakes into the wild. As a result, there were many more cobras than before the program started 🙂

In a similar way, the French in Hanoi battled rats by paying money for severed tails. The city became overrun with lively yet tailless rats: the Vietnamese cut off the “currency” and released the creatures to breed further, to not lose a stable income.

In the 19th century, archaeologists searching for dinosaur bones and ancient fossils paid locals for every piece found. As a result, resourceful diggers intentionally shattered whole, priceless skeletons into small pieces to earn more by submitting them separately. Science wept, but the KPI for “number of finds” soared. A similar tragedy occurred with the Dead Sea Scrolls: Bedouins cut the found scrolls into small pieces to sell each fragment separately.

In the USA, this malady struck infrastructure. When building the Transcontinental Railroad, the government paid Union Pacific subsidies for every mile laid. In Nebraska, engineers, in a single corrupt impulse, drew a huge loop—the Oxbow Route. The extra 9 miles of detour made no sense for logistics but brought the builders hundreds of thousands of dollars “out of thin air.”

But if the “loop” in Nebraska was just theft, then the mistakes of U.S. Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara were a tragedy. An aficionado of numbers and mathematical models, he tried to manage the Vietnam War like a Ford assembly line.

When General Edward Lansdale timidly noted that McNamara’s formulas lacked the variable “the spirit and will of the Vietnamese people,” the secretary noted it in pencil in his notebook. And then erased it. He said that if something cannot be measured, it’s unimportant. The main metric became the body count. Officers onsite, eager to curry favor, began labeling everyone indiscriminately as “enemies,” painting an illusion of imminent victory in Washington, while the actual situation spiraled into the abyss.

In science, there’s a radical principle similar to Occam’s Razor— “Newton’s Flaming Laser Sword” (also known as “Alder’s Razor”). Its essence: if something cannot be tested by experiment (or measurement), it’s not even worthy of discussion.

It sounds reasonable for physics, but in life, it’s a direct path to what sociologist Daniel Yankelovich called the degradation of perception. He described this as a descent through four steps:

1. First, we measure only what is easy to measure.

2. Then we ignore what is difficult to measure or requires qualitative assessment.

3. The third step—we decide that what cannot be measured is not so important.

4. And the final step—we declare that what cannot be measured actually does not exist.

And at that moment, we become blind. We view the world through the keyhole of metrics, while in the room behind the door, cobras are bred, dinosaur bones are broken, and wars are lost.

Rediscovering Gorodki: A Glimpse into a Traditional Russian Sport | December 20 2025, 05:29

Suddenly today, the word “gorodki” popped into my head. When I was a little boy, in Baku, Azerbaijan, we used to play two games in the courtyard – gorodki and knives.

I Google it. The internet tells me that in Russia there is a Russian Federation of Gorodki Sport. It has a president, a first vice-president, and a vice-president. All in blazers. There is a presidium, and it has a chairman of the commission on international relations. There is a whole apparatus for the president of gorodki sport with three advisers and a responsible secretary. They hold conferences, at least in 2018 and 2020. There is a march of gorodki players, music by A. Roshchin, lyrics by V. Avdeev, I. Vinogradsky.

The website has a section “Anti-Doping”. Can you imagine doping in gorodki sport? It has a subsection “methodological recommendations”.

In 2024, there was a World Championship of Gorodki Sport. And it had a Grand Closing. Besides Belarus, athletes from Germany and Kazakhstan participated in the world championship. From Germany, besides Sergey, Vitaly, and Konstantin, there was Schlein Eugen, or rather, Zhenya.

Masters of sport. To be admitted to international competitions, one must come with a certificate, oh, a certificate of having undergone anti-doping education from an institution, whatever that means.

In general, it’s all very serious.

But I did not find a federation for the game of knives.

Modern Reading: More Words, Digital Shifts, and Surprising Data Insights from 2008 | December 14 2025, 22:33

An interesting study caught my eye, dating back to 2009. According to it, the modern human indeed reads significantly more than in the past, although the format of this reading has changed. The study suggests that in 2008, an average American consumed about 100,000 words a day (approximately a quarter of “War and Peace”) – this is an approximate number of words that passed through consciousness per day (via ears or eyes), calculated based on activity chronometry. This is 140% more than in 1980.

Therefore, contrary to the myth about the degradation of reading, at least in 2008, we processed 2.4 times more textual information than our parents’ generation. Moreover, the study only considered information consumed outside of work (at home, in transit, during leisure).

The structure of reading – if in 1960, 26% of words came from paper, by 2008 this share had fallen to 9%. However, digital media (internet, email, social networks) not only compensated for this decline but also tripled the total reading time. The reason — the internet, as it is predominantly a textual environment (web surfing, email).

But it’s interesting that although the Internet accounts for 25% of consumed words, it only makes up for 2% of bytes (since video on the internet in 2008 was of low quality). Thus, they estimated the information flow from different channels and converted it into bytes 🙂 Radio accounted for 19% of the time but only generated 0.3% of bytes (as audio requires less data). Voice communication (telephone) — accounted for only 5% of words and a negligible share of bytes, but it was the only fully interactive channel before the internet era. TV remained the main source of information by time in 2008 (41% of all hours) and quantity of words (45%), however, in terms of data volume (bytes), television was only second (35%), behind computer games.

Now about games, quite interesting. The main finding from the report: Games generated (or did in 2008) 55% of all “bytes” consumed by households. Meanwhile, they only accounted for 8% of user time. This is quite a controversial topic in their report.

Those 100,500 words — that’s an assessment of actual words that a person either read or heard. This is not a metaphorical “equivalent,” but an attempt to calculate the verbal information precisely. They took the consumption time of each media and multiplied it by the average word inflow rate for that channel. Reading (books, newspapers, internet texts): 240 words per minute. Email and web surfing – 240 words per minute. Television (dialogues in shows/movies): 153 words per minute. Radio: 80 words per minute (less because of many pauses and music). Music: 41 words per minute (song lyrics).

Link in the comments

Stages of Understanding Scientific Papers | December 10 2025, 19:38

As I periodically read scientific papers on my topic, I will try to articulate the levels of understanding the truth.

Level 0: “Read Later Folder” Downloaded the PDF, the title sounds genius, the abstract seems like the solution to all my problems. The file is forever buried in the ~/Downloads/Papers/ToRead folder.

Level 1: “Sumerian Cuneiform” Don’t understand anything at all. Random symbols, the Greek alphabet is over. “Orthogonal extrapolation of cognitive entropy within a quasi-stationary discourse inevitably induces a bifurcation of transcendental synergism.” Such materials really lower self-esteem. Most often from this level, you either fall back to zero, or gradually move to the second level.

Level 2: “Illusion of Competence” The Abstract is clear, the Introduction reads like a good detective story. But as soon as the main section starts, the text turns into a pumpkin. I can’t paraphrase it in my own words, only in general phrases: “Well, they trained a neural net… kind of.”

Level 3: “Formulas where needed and where not” The Abstract is clear, the first half of the article is also okay (architecture, pictures). But then comes formula (4), where “magic” happens. I take the authors’ word for it that equation (3) leads to (4) because, of course, I won’t check it. Beyond that — sheer horror and belief in a miracle.

Level 4: “Goldfish Effect” While reading — everything is crystal clear. The logic is solid, conclusions are obvious, the authors are smart. I close the tab, someone asks me, “What was the article about?” — and I freeze. My mind goes blank. If you take away the paper, I can’t reproduce even the idea because there essentially isn’t an idea, there is a process.

Level 5: “Armchair Expert” Everything’s clear, I can retell the essence over a beer. I know that Input transforms into Output, but the “black box” inside is still black. Give me a computer, I wouldn’t be able to reproduce even the skeleton because, it turns out, the article lacks half of the important stuff.

Level 6: “Critic-Practitioner” Everything is clear, I can recount, understand how to reproduce (even without their code). I see where they cut corners. I definitely know that the “state-of-the-art” result is achieved only thanks to a lucky seed or dataset and this strange trick in preprocessing, mentioned in the footnote on page 12.

Level 7: “Deconstructor” Hooray, I’ve understood everything and implemented it myself. It works worse than in the article, but I know why. However, I understand this work better than the second author (who just made charts). I see that all this complex mathematics over 5 pages boils down to two paragraphs in the middle.

Level 8: “Nirvana” The article is trivial. The idea is secondary, it was all in the ’90s with Schmidhuber, just named differently. Formulas are overcomplicated for importance. I can write the same in 10 lines of code and it will work faster. Reject.

If anything — I’m stuck somewhere between 2 and 4.

The Maddening Ambiguity of Mathematical Notation | December 02 2025, 15:30

If someone tells you that mathematics is an exact science, don’t believe them. Since I’m currently into data science as a hobby, I’m studying all sorts of things from different books and my brain is exploding at how this can happen in a science where every little detail should fit into a system, otherwise it goes by the wayside. Until it gets to notations. It’s a complete mess there. A set of dialects.

Take, for example, common logarithms. The “standard” for how to denote a logarithm depends on which room of the university you are in. In calculus and number theory, log(x) almost always means the natural logarithm ln(x) with base e. The derivative of e^x equals e^x. It’s “natural”. They’re too lazy to write ln. Yet, where decimal logarithms might appear (like in computer science), log(x) suddenly becomes decimal, and ln(x) is based on e.

The expected value E has an argument in square brackets. Meanwhile, the same square brackets in computer science are used for the step function 0/1.

Or if you see a vector – is it a column or a row? In classical mathematics, a vector is always a column. To multiply it by weights, we write T after the vector and then w for the weights. But in many papers, vectors are thought of as rows. And if you see y = xW+b, then x is not a column, because otherwise the dimensions wouldn’t match up. x here is a row. But in the next paper they write Wx+b. And there x is a column 🙂

Angle brackets . For the dot product, the symbol “⋅” is used, but it is hard to see, especially on a whiteboard, and I very often see that mathematicians use angle brackets for dot product. In general, angle brackets are used for the generalized concept of inner product, where the scalar product is a special case. signifies a certain abstract way to multiply a and b and get a number. Meanwhile, in quantum mechanics this would be written as . And for the scalar product, some use a circle with a dot or x in a circle.

And just for the sake of it, in Russia tangent is tg, while in the USA it’s tan. There’s also tan^-1 and arctan, which are the same, though x^-1 generally means 1/x

Navigating Complexity: The Challenge of Wikipedia’s Expert-Driven Content | November 26 2025, 01:06

Wikipedia has one big problem. Well, or we have it with Wikipedia. If you go to almost any Wikipedia page about a relatively complex mathematical or physical concept, you often suddenly don’t want to read it any further. Formally everything is correct there, but the explanation is given through concepts, often even more complex than the concept being explained. Besides, there is often a lot of unnecessary information — what is formally/academically/taxonomically part of the topic, but essentially “pollutes” the first impression.

This problem arises because the authors of Wikipedia (often mathematicians) prioritize rigor and completeness rather than didactics and comprehensibility.

In the English-speaking environment, this is sometimes called “Drift into pedantry”. Articles are often written by experts for experts, not for those who are trying to learn the subject from scratch.

Let’s take, for example, a “tensor”. Imagine a student who has heard that tensors are used in machine learning (Google TensorFlow) or physics and wants to understand the essence.

What the reader expects (intuition): “A tensor is a table of numbers (or some sort of data container) that describes the properties of an object and correctly changes if we rotate the coordinate system”

What Wikipedia provides: “A tensor (from Latin tensus, ‘strained,’ as per the classical layout of mechanical stress at the sides of a deformable cube, see illustration) — is a layout (arrangement in space) of numbers (components), used in mathematics and physics as a special type of multi-index object, possessing mathematical properties.” The article immediately starts listing ranks, covariance and contravariance of indices. This is formally correct but it “pollutes” the first impression.

The illustration at the very top is captioned like this: “Mechanical stress, deforming a cube with faces perpendicular to the coordinate axes, in classic elasticity theory is described by the Cauchy stress tensor, which links 2 indices: the normal vector to the face with the stress vector T (force per unit area); there are 3 directions of normals and 3 directions of stress components, which gives a 2nd rank tensor 3×3 — consisting of 9 components.”

Formally — not a single error. In fact — it’s a wall of text that requires knowledge of linear algebra just to read the definition.

It’s as if you asked “What is an apple?”, and you were responded with: “An apple is a fruit of plants from the subfamily Amygdaloideae or Spiraeoideae, featuring an epicarp, mesocarp, and endocarp, often participating in Newton’s gravitational experiments.”

On one hand, it seems like with the emergence of LLM, Wikipedia is no longer necessary. There are conditional LLMs like ChatGPT, which essentially paraphrase everything that is in Wikipedia in the required form. But they do it because they were trained on Wikipedia, and undoubtedly Wikipedia was given much more weight during training than other internet junk. If there was no Wikipedia in the training set, it would be much more difficult. Meanwhile, Wikipedia is constantly edited, and LLM and Google use it exactly when answering questions.

Therefore, on the one hand, it seems to me that it is high time for Wikipedia to transition to generating on the basis of expert-curated data and packaging knowledge in the required format, for example, in the form of questions and answers. On the other, the whole idea of encyclopedia master-data for LLM/RAG is lost.

The paradox is that LLM is, in essence, the only “interface” that was able to read these pedantic definitions of Wikipedia, “understand” them (through thousands of examples of code and articles) and translate them back into humane language. Wikipedia has become an excellent database for robots, but a poor textbook for people.

Metchnikoff: Beyond Science and Survival | November 13 2025, 04:53

I was reading Metchnikoff’s biography (don’t ask why I ended up there) and thought about how much can fit into one life. He wasn’t just a scientist, but rather like a saga:

His elder brother Ivan was the prototype for Leo Tolstoy’s “The Death of Ivan Ilyich.” Another brother, Lev, was a prominent anarchist, sociologist and fought in Italy alongside Garibaldi. Metchnikoff himself tried to end his life twice: the first time after the death of his first wife (who, sick with tuberculosis, was carried to the church on a chair). He took morphine but survived. The second time was when his second wife Olga fell critically ill with typhus. He deliberately inoculated himself with relapsing fever. Fortunately, both survived. However, the Grim Reaper with his scythe only came after his third consecutive heart attack.

The dude graduated from university at 19 as an external student. I.M. Sechenov himself recommended him for a professorship. But Metchnikoff was “blackballed” (rejected) by one vote. In protest, Sechenov resigned along with him.

He founded the first bacteriological station in the country at that time in Odessa. But due to an employee mistake (they spoiled the anthrax vaccine) an entire flock of sheep died. After this scandal, he left Russia. The station — on Leo Tolstoy Street.

In Paris, he was immediately taken under the wing of Louis Pasteur (the father of pasteurized milk), who supported his theory and gave him a lab in his institute. There, Metchnikoff worked for 28 years, becoming the deputy director.

While studying cholera at the Pasteur Institute, Metchnikoff proposed a theory that not everyone who comes into contact with the pathogen gets sick. He suggested that it’s all about… (of course) the gut flora. To prove it, he deliberately drank a culture with cholera vibrios. Nothing happened (it would have surely happened to you, Metchnikoff thought)

In the end, he received the Nobel Prize for the discovery of phagocytosis (cellular immunity). He is also “the father of gerontology” — Metchnikoff was the one who proposed the theory that to achieve longevity, one must combat bad bacteria in the gut with probiotics. Now, they say, gerontologists around the world drink sour milk on May 15th remembering Metchnikoff.

He died in Paris, and his ashes are kept in the library of the Pasteur Institute.

Also, in the English Wikipedia he’s Élie Metchnikoff. Not easy to guess.

In the photo, Metchnikoff and Leo Tolstoy are discussing immunology.

Unraveling the True Meaning of “Admission to the Bar” | October 14 2025, 01:20

It turns out that the phrase “barristers must gain admission to the bar” is not at all about bars and baristas, as I would have thought, had I not read that it’s actually about lawyers in the US. Admission to the bar” — is the official admission to legal practice (for barristers). And a Barrister” is a lawyer who represents clients in court. There’s also Solicitor” — a lawyer who works with clients and documents.

Historically, bar” literally means a bar (barrier) in court, separating the area where the judges and lawyers sit from the rest of the hall. Being called to the bar” means being called to the barrier,” i.e., being admitted to represent cases in court. Today, the bar” refers to the legal profession as a whole or the legal community.

Actually, it all started when I saw the title (professional designation) “Esq.” with a guy’s name and realized I didn’t understand any of these letters often listed after names. There are a lot of them, and you’ve probably seen PhD, M.D., or CPA numerous times.