Is Chess the Least Expressive Sport? A Former Badminton Athlete's Claim and the Watchability Debate

Is Chess the Least Expressive Sport? A Former Badminton Athlete's Claim and the Watchability Debate

“Chess is one of the least expressive sports.” The line comes from Naganethra Reddy, a former badminton athlete from India who now works in sport sustainability. She is not a professional chess player, not a coach, and not an administrator in the chess world. Her remark should therefore not be read as a technical verdict on chess, but as a signal about how professionals from other sports view the 64-square board. Behind it sits a larger question that matters to every sport: what makes a discipline “watchable” in the eyes of a general audience?

1. One remark, one debate

In sport, some statements are not meant as technical analysis but as questions about the spectator experience. Naganethra Reddy's claim belongs to that group. She does not argue about openings, ratings or playing styles. What she offers is an aesthetic judgement: chess lacks expressiveness.

It is important to separate two kinds of statement. The first is technical: move quality, engine accuracy, draw rates, opening strategy. The second concerns watchability: whether someone sitting in front of a screen can feel the drama. Naganethra Reddy's remark sits entirely in the second category. This matters, because misreading the category leads people to dismiss the claim with arguments that are beside the point.

A player can win a world title with brilliant games while an outsider still finds the sport hard to follow. Those two facts do not contradict each other. They describe two different dimensions of the same discipline: competitive quality and spectator quality.

For Vietnamese sports media, this is an occasion to revisit a familiar question: how are we bringing chess to the public, and is that enough?

1. Who is Naganethra Reddy?

According to the commentary and the author's own profile, Naganethra Reddy is a former badminton athlete, originally from Bengaluru, India, now based in London. She works in sport sustainability and has been involved in projects connected to electric and endurance motorsport platforms including Formula E, Extreme E and WEC.

This is a notable profile. It shows the speaker is no stranger to elite sport. She understands competitive pressure, broadcast appeal and the commercial value of a discipline. At the same time, it shows she stands outside professional chess.

That combination creates a particular vantage point: an insider in sport, an outsider in chess. From there, her remark has value as a public-opinion sample rather than as expert analysis.

1. A personal starting point: a brother and a board

According to the commentary, Naganethra Reddy was inspired to explore chess by her brother, whom she describes as very difficult to beat. This is the only detail in the piece that touches chess strength, and it carries no rating, title or competitive record.

The detail matters methodologically. It suggests her reference point for chess is family and recreational, not elite. When someone says chess is “not expressive”, they are usually describing the experience of an outside spectator, not that of a player inside the game.

For a player, chess is saturated with expression: a racing heart in a complex middlegame, the suffocating feeling of a few seconds on the clock, the thrill of finding the move that breaks the balance. But all of that expression happens internally. The audience sees two still figures and a quiet board.

The gap between those two experiences is the core of the debate.

1. What does “expressiveness” mean in sport?

In sports media, expressiveness usually means how visibly a discipline communicates effort, emotion and momentum to a non-specialist viewer. A basketball leap, a sprint burst, a badminton smash — all are direct expressive signals.

A viewer needs no rule knowledge to sense who is fresh, who is fading, who is dominating. The body tells the story.

Chess is different. The signal is not in the body but in the position. To read it, a viewer needs some background knowledge, or a guide. That is not a sporting flaw, but it is a communications challenge.

Note that expressiveness is a subjective concept with no agreed definition. There is no standard index for the “expressiveness” of a sport. So when someone calls chess inexpressive, they are describing a personal impression, not a measurable fact.

1. Why chess is hard to “read” on screen

Three technical reasons explain why chess is difficult for general audiences.

First, the drama is internal. Everything important happens inside the player's calculation. There are no clear bodily cues for viewers to follow.

Second, the knowledge threshold is relatively high. A football viewer can follow a match without knowing the offside rule in detail. A chess viewer who wants to appreciate a move needs to understand pawn structure, space and long-term strategy.

Third, the rhythm is uneven. Some games run for hours with very slow phases, punctuated by split-second explosions. For television, that structure is hard to package attractively.

These three reasons explain why the “inexpressive” critique persists, even though chess is one of the oldest mind sports with one of the largest player bases in the world.

1. Counter-evidence: the online chess wave keeps growing

Yet stopping at “inexpressive” distorts the picture. In recent years the chess industry has moved in the opposite direction.

Online platforms such as Chess.com and Lichess have recorded strong growth in users and daily games. Live-streamed chess events attract significant audiences, especially among younger viewers. Television series built around chess have triggered fresh global interest.

From this angle, the “inexpressive” claim looks dated relative to industry practice. It holds for the traditional television experience but no longer for the digital one, where viewers can watch and follow live analysis simultaneously.

The point to stress: the problem is not chess's nature, but how chess is presented.

1. The Eval Bar and the storytelling revolution

One of the most important innovations in chess broadcasting is the engine evaluation bar, commonly known as the Eval Bar. It displays in real time how balanced a position is, letting general viewers see who is ahead without deep analysis.

The Eval Bar has sharply lowered the barrier to following chess. When the bar swings suddenly, viewers immediately understand that something big has happened. Drama is generated not by bodies but by visualised data.

Alongside it has come a professional commentary layer, capable of telling a game's story to non-specialists. Commentators translate the language of the position into the language of emotion.

The combination of the Eval Bar and storytelling commentary proves that expressiveness is not a fixed property of a sport, but a designable one.

1. Short draws, the Sofia rules and format reform

The expressiveness critique connects indirectly to a real debate inside chess: short draws and event quality.

At the top level, the draw rate in classical games is high. Many games end quickly when both sides accept a split point, especially late in a round-robin. For casual viewers, a short draw is a hard sell.

In response, many events have adopted rules restricting early draws. These are often grouped under anti-short-draw regulations, most famously the rules applied at a major European tournament that banned agreed draws before a set number of moves.

At the same time, rapid and blitz formats are used more and more in major events, including world championship matches. Faster pace, more mistakes, denser drama.

This is clear evidence that the chess world is not ignoring watchability. It is actively adjusting formats to retain audiences.

1. A badminton view: two kinds of drama

It is notable that the critic comes from badminton, a highly expressive sport. Badminton is built on leaps, fast smashes and spectacular retrievals. Every effort is visible to the audience.

Side by side, the two sports represent two kinds of drama.

Badminton is physical drama. Viewers see sweat, exhaustion and explosive moments. Chess is cognitive drama. Viewers see only outcomes; the process unfolds inside the player's head.

Both are sport. But they serve different kinds of audience. That someone from one discipline finds the other inexpressive is psychologically understandable — not necessarily a correct communications conclusion.

1. Vietnamese chess and the audience problem

In Vietnam, chess has a solid record of achievement and a relatively strong grassroots base. Vietnamese players have repeatedly appeared at major international events with notable results.

One of the most important fixtures is the HDBank international chess tournament, held annually in Ho Chi Minh City since 2026. It gathers many international players and has become a familiar meeting point for the regional chess community.

Meanwhile, school chess and urban chess clubs have grown strongly over the years. The number of children learning chess has risen markedly, producing a new generation of players.

Still, there is room to grow on the audience side. Compared with direct-contact sports, Vietnamese chess lacks media products compelling enough to hold a mass audience over time.

This is where the “inexpressive” critique touches something real: without good storytelling, results struggle to convert into public appeal.

1. Le Quang Liem and the elite benchmark

Vietnamese chess inevitably brings up Le Quang Liem, who won the World Blitz Championship in 2026 and has repeatedly passed the 2,700 Elo mark. He symbolises a generation of Vietnamese players reaching the international stage.

Notably, even at the highest level, the watchability question persists. His finest games are sometimes fully understood only by specialists. For general viewers, they need decoding.

Beyond Le Quang Liem, Vietnam has other notable names such as Nguyen Ngoc Truong Son, Pham Le Thao Nguyen and Tran Tuan Minh, who help sustain Vietnamese chess's standing regionally and continentally.

Globally, figures such as Magnus Carlsen, Ding Liren and Gukesh Dommaraju show that chess still produces compelling stories. The issue is simply that those stories must be told the right way.

1. Expectation analysis: prejudice versus data

From a communications perspective, Naganethra Reddy's remark reflects a gap between prejudice and data.

On the prejudice side, the outsider's image of chess remains two motionless people at a board in silence. That image spreads easily because it is memorable and repeatable.

On the data side, the chess industry is showing growth signals. Online player numbers are rising, chess content on digital platforms is expanding, and live-streamed events draw younger audiences.

That gap matters. It suggests chess's problem is not a shortage of compelling content, but a shortage of channels suited to modern consumption habits.

In other words, chess does not need to become like badminton to be more appealing. It needs to become more accessible in its own way.

1. Communications risk and recommendations

In risk terms, this is a low-impact commentary. It is tied to no specific event, player or commercial data. It therefore creates no competitive, financial or governance risk for any party.

There is, however, one risk worth noting: perception risk. If the “inexpressive” framing is echoed by several non-chess sports figures within a short window, it could contribute a modest headwind to casual-fan acquisition.

Three recommendations follow for chess communications.

First, invest in commentary quality. A good broadcaster can turn a dry game into a story with a climax.

Second, make full use of visualisation tools such as the Eval Bar and analytical graphics. This is the most effective way to lower the barrier.

Third, build stories about players, not only about games. Audiences bond with people before they bond with moves.

1. Conclusion

Naganethra Reddy's remark should not be read as expert chess analysis, but as a public-opinion sample from outside the chess world. Its value lies in reminding chess about a question often overlooked: how are general audiences experiencing this sport?

Chess may not be expressive in the way badminton is. But that does not mean it lacks drama. Chess's drama lives elsewhere, and the task of media is to bring it into the light.

For Vietnamese chess, this is a worthwhile prompt. Results are the foundation, but storytelling is the bridge to the public. A sport can be great in silence — but to be widely loved, it needs a voice.