How did you start playing chess?

Chess was a family tradition, likely starting with my grandfather – not a pro, but a solid local player who loved the game and made sure all five of his children learned it. Each of them, including my father, later passed the game down to their own children. My dad was a scientist with a deep passion for chess – analyzing games, playing correspondence chess, and constantly exploring new ideas. He introduced me to the game when I was about four, teaching me the basics. I recall picking up simple combinations fairly quickly, but I only matched and eventually surpassed his level around 14. However, we had already started competing in the same tournaments soon after I began training seriously. Over the next 20 years, we played in numerous events together and were teammates multiple times – something that’s much easier to achieve in chess than in basketball.

Robertas' dad at a tournament

Brother (front kid) at a tournament

Did you start training in chess right away?

No, my first sport was swimming, which I started around first grade and trained for about five years before switching to chess at the old age of 12 (most successful players begin training at 6 or 7, so I had a lot of catching up to do). Prior to that, I loved playing chess with my cousin, who was about my age and, like me, a grandson of the grandfather who started our kin's chess tradition. Our families lived far apart, so we didn’t get to visit often, but when we did, I always looked forward to staying for a few days. We were never short of ideas on how to spend our days, but the evenings were usually reserved for intense chess battles. Our skill level was close as well, and sometimes, we’d play until 3 a.m., completely absorbed in the game (until his mom spotted us and strongly advised that we go to sleep RIGHT NOW). I remember one summer, right before the school year started, we played a week-long match, and my cousin edged me out with a final score of something like 36-33. That fall, I retired from swimming and switched to formal chess training. A couple of months later, when we visited my uncle’s family again, I absolutely crushed my cousin – winning every single game. That instant improvement made it clear to me that training actually works, and it became a huge motivation booster to keep going.

The first chess rival

National competition

What were your biggest achievements in chess?

It took me about a year to catch up with my peers and start contending for top spots in national youth championships. In Lithuania, the national runner-up earned a spot in the European Youth Chess Championship, while the national champion represented the country in the World Youth Chess Championship. That’s how I competed in the European Championship in 1996 and the World Championship in 1998. Interestingly, in the ‘90s, European championships were often tougher than world events because they didn’t include players from exotic countries, making it easier to collect points. Nowadays, chess has grown globally, and I suspect the competition is much stronger everywhere. In both the European and World Championships, I managed to beat a couple of strong players, including grandmasters, but overall, my performance was average – I wasn’t quite at the level to compete for top places internationally.

1998 U18 Chess Championship on the Spanish coast – a great place to play chess

The only pleasant exception came in 2001 when the Lithuanian team – just me and my friend – secured second place at the World Chess U20 Team Championship in Rio de Janeiro. The tournament took place in early October, and many strong European teams chose not to fly to the other side of the world so soon after 9/11. So, let’s just say unfortunate circumstances played a role in that result – but we still had to win our games anyway.

Representing Lithuania at the 2001 U20 World Chess Team Championship

In Rio with teammate Roman Burstein

I also won one Lithuanian Team Chess Championship in the early 2000s with a men’s team, but after that, I shifted my focus to studies and my professional career.

Why did you retire from chess?

Practically speaking – because I need to eat, and me being a chess pro doesn’t quite align with that goal. There are many easier ways to make a living than pursuing chess professionally, especially if you're just average on a global scale. I realized that while chess is a fantastic game, I couldn’t (and didn’t want to) rely on it for a career. I believe I could have achieved and maintained a master-level performance if I had kept training, but as I approached my twenties, I decided to play for fun and shift to something more sustainable to pay the bills. I don’t think anyone from my generation kept chess as their main source of income. Some transitioned into poker, but most moved into regular day jobs.

Is it even possible to make a living from chess?

Historically, chess wasn’t always the most financially rewarding career path. The game started gaining significant global attention in the early 1950s, fueled by the US-Soviet rivalry. Despite that, in the ‘50s and ‘60s, prize money remained modest. That began to change with the rise of US star Bobby Fischer, who not only further popularized the game but also pushed for better financial conditions and sponsorships, making it possible for a larger group of players to make a living from chess. After Fischer withdrew from competitive play and refused to defend his 1972 World Championship title, mainstream attention in the US declined. Meanwhile, chess grew in popularity in India, where the game is believed to have originated centuries ago, and in China, which started investing heavily in the sport. China became dominant in team events and, in 2023, claimed its first men’s individual world title (Indian grandmaster won in 2024). In the Western world, chess saw additional spikes in popularity, particularly with the rise of Norwegian prodigy Magnus Carlsen, widely considered the strongest player today, and some impact of the Netflix series The Queen’s Gambit. However, despite increased globalization and visibility through advances in IT technologies, making a sustainable living from chess remains difficult for all but coaches or top players.

How did computers affect the game?

A major turning point came in the late 1990s with the rise of chess engines and artificial intelligence. Back in the 1980s, even the strongest computers were no match for human masters or grandmasters. But surely machines kept improving, and in 1997, Garry Kasparov's loss to IBM’s Deep Blue marked the end of human dominance in chess. This fueled a perception that chess was becoming "solved" to some extent. Today, even the budget smartphone can outperform the world’s best human players. While top grandmasters still produce incredibly high-level games requiring immense concentration and skill, computers instantly highlight mistakes, which in some ways diminishes the human effort involved. On the other hand, chess engines have revolutionized game analysis, making it much faster and raising preparation standards to an entirely new level. The rise of the internet has further transformed chess, creating more opportunities to watch, train, and compete online.

Do chess skills help in your IT career?

Generally, yes – but it’s not a simple yes or no answer. Chess has given me plenty of useful skills that transfer well into IT, but it also comes with habits that aren’t always ideal in a team setting.

Chess constantly forces you to analyze and think ahead a bit – just like coding, designing software, or business in general. Patience and focus are also useful. During my active coding days, I could sit for hours working through a problem without losing concentration. But on the flip side, I’m really bad at handling interruptions. If I get pulled out of the flow, it can take me an hour just to get back into it. In chess, that’s never a problem – once the game starts, it’s just you and the board. No phone calls, no messages, no Slack notifications. In fact, if your phone or smartwatch beeps during a chess game, you’re immediately disqualified. You're not even allowed to have them nearby.

Another plus is adaptability. In both chess and IT, you start with a plan, but if things don’t go as expected you have to adjust – whether it’s responding to an opponent’s unexpected move or dealing with last-minute project changes. Decision-making under pressure is another parallel. In a competitive chess game, you sometimes have only seconds to make a move that could decide the outcome. That skill comes in handy in business, where you often must make quick calls with incomplete information.

Chess also develops a strong growth mindset. If you want to play in the next tournament better than the previous one, you must practice and study hard. Luckily, studying opening theory or mastering endgames is quite similar to learning best practices in IT – you find a reliable source and study through it.

But there are downsides, too. Chess players love analyzing everything, and sometimes that leads to overthinking or overengineering in real life. In chess, you usually want to find the absolute best move because mistakes are often irreversible. In software development, there’s rarely a single "perfect" solution – sometimes, you just have to go with a good enough answer and move forward. That’s something I had to adjust to. In chess, you don’t get extra points for finishing a six-hour game in 15 minutes (usually quite the opposite if you rush, you lose). But in business, a good solution now is often better than the perfect solution later.

Another habit I had to somewhat unlearn is relying too much on logic. Chess follows strict rules that haven’t changed in centuries, while IT – especially business and product development – is constantly evolving. Rules change, priorities shift, and sometimes decisions aren’t made purely based on logic. There’s a quote from a physicist (I don’t recall the name) who said something like, "Imagine if atoms could think." That applies to working with people in managerial roles. Computers and chess are predictable, but people moving the pieces (myself included) less so. But that unpredictability also makes it more interesting.

Then there’s competitiveness. Chess teaches you to focus on winning, which is great, but in a team setting, collaboration is more important than competition. That’s been another mindset shift for me, and I’m glad that towards the end of my active chess career and in my occasional post-career games, I mostly played in team events.
So overall, chess has likely me in my IT career, but I’ve also had to adapt. It trains your brain well, but the real world isn’t as structured as the chessboard. One thing I’m certain about is that chess physically changes your brain – much like yoga or meditation, though perhaps in a different way.

So, chess is generally meant for analytical, introverted people?

Chess does attract many individuals with analytical minds, but it’s by no means exclusive to introverts. In my experience, the chess community is quite diverse. About half of my current chess team works in IT, which suggests a correlation between analytical professions and an interest in chess. However, this is far from a strict rule. My teammate, with whom I finished second in the U20 World Championship, is a sports commentator and journalist. "Introvert" is the last word I’d use to describe him – if anything, during our non-chess sports meetups, I often think he talks way too much! ????

Several players from my generation also moved into politics – becoming notable members of the national parliament – not exactly a career for introverts. I think these examples show that chess attracts a wide range of personalities and professions, far beyond the stereotypical analytical introvert.

Do you still play chess or maintain your chess skills?

In recent years, I’ve only played one or two games a year, mostly in the national team chess championship. Ironically, I am a Lithuanian chess team champion of 2024 – but my team won despite me, not because of me. I played a single game and lost to a teenager. I still understand the principles of the game quite well, but I’m completely out of shape – kind of like an ex-footballer playing in an exhibition match 5 or 10 years after retiring. You can always tell which ones have been really enjoying life after hanging cleats on the wall – they take up more space on the pitch than they used to but don’t run as fast anymore.

That said, I’ve always been a sports junkie. When I started distancing myself from chess in my early twenties, I dived into other sports like football, basketball, beach volleyball, and alpine skiing. During my school years, I was terrible at anything involving a ball and was always picked last for teams. But in my twenties, I started fixing that and now I can hold my own at an amateur level in quite a few ball sports.

Recently, I counted that I’ve had over 10 coaches – probably closer to 15 – across various disciplines. Of course, I’ve never been very good at any of them, but I like to think I can perform at a decent amateur level in all of them. Right now, my biggest passion is jump diving, which probably comes from my love of water due to my early swimming years. I still enjoy swimming, but I can’t really find the motivation to push myself like I did in serious training. Diving, on the other hand, is much more dynamic and fun than just about counting laps.

I also go to football practice or matches whenever I get the chance. One thing I’m really grateful for is that I’ve never been afraid to be a beginner. That trait has allowed me to “collect” various sports over the years. A few years ago, I even started playing ice hockey. I was really horrible when I first started, but now I’m just bad.

As for chess, I still enjoy getting together with my old youth chess teammates for a game or two just for fun. But at this point, I’m much more into other sports.