Something unexpected came out of my son’s chess learning recently.
It wasn’t the game itself, but something in his approach that we noticed had changed. It seemed to be affecting his progress and, more subtly, other areas of his learning too
And it made me reflect on a few things I'd previously taken for granted about learning, and it also linked with some wider patterns I'd already been noticing. That's what I want to explore here.
What Chess Taught Us About Learning
My son has played chess since he was about 5 or 6 (he’s now 10). He plays in a variety of ways, over the board and online, and it's a big part of his week. It’s a lot, but he loves it and it’s been great to watch his progress and the skills that have come from it.
But over the last year, we noticed that despite spending more time than ever on chess, his official chess rating hadn't budged. He was putting in a lot of effort to improve, but not getting any results. It was frustrating for him and a bit confusing for us. Sometimes plateaus are a natural part of learning, but this didn't feel like that.
We looked at it together and realised that how he was spending his time learning chess had changed. Whereas before, it had mostly been over-the-board games at clubs and tournaments, now a larger chunk of his time was spent doing online speed games and puzzles.
And watching him play online, we noticed that if a puzzle felt particularly difficult, or he got it wrong, he could just move on. There was always another puzzle waiting. No need to correct or analyse, no incentive on the platform to stick with it.
But for chess, that correction and analysis is actually really important.
His club tutor told us he'd seen this pattern before and that lots of online play and puzzles doesn't always result in stronger chess skills. It's not the volume of games and puzzles that's important, but the deliberate practice of slowing down, working through mistakes and understanding each position.
There's nothing wrong with these games or puzzles, but it seemed as though when this faster-paced approach formed the bulk of his learning, another habit was being formed alongside the chess - the habit of moving on quickly when something became difficult.
And that habit doesn’t stay limited to chess.
When Practice Becomes a Habit
The reason this stood out was because he's always been naturally persistent. Ever since he was little he'd stick with things for ages whether it was puzzles, books, projects or even just watching insects.
More importantly, we were starting to see the knock-on effect of this change, like his attention span decreasing slightly in other areas and increased rushing to get things done, more impatience. All very subtle but noticeable to us. Maybe it wasn't a direct cause - developmental changes can affect behaviour too - but, knowing him, it did seem like a reasonable explanation.
We worked together to make some changes, moving back towards the older structure of analysing games, being more intentional with puzzles rather than racing through them, as well as working one-to-one with a tutor again.
A few weeks in and, reassuringly, the difference is already noticeable.
Are Modern Learning Environments Changing Attention?
Of course there are many factors that shape children's attention. I can't know that this was the only one. But seeing this does make me wonder whether the environments children practise in are shaping not only what they learn, but how they learn.
Life is more fast-paced than ever. And for children, a lot of spaces they'll find themselves in - online and offline - are designed to hold attention, but also to keep things moving, from learning apps and games through to fast-paced classroom lessons and tightly scheduled and structured activities.
This can be absolutely fine, young children have shorter attention spans and for some, that faster feedback and variety is essential for engagement in the first place. But if it becomes the main learning experience, could it also change how comfortable children are with slower, more sustained attention as they grow?
Both have value, but perhaps they train slightly different habits of thinking and approaching problems.
Video Games and Attention
Take video games as an example.
They can be a brilliant tool for creativity and problem solving. But not all video games are created equally, and I think the differences matter.
When I was younger, my Dad and I would rent a game from Blockbuster and enjoy the challenge of working together to complete it. It was frustrating at times but really fun, and it was a real accomplishment to reach the end. Giving up or moving on isn't an option when you don't have unlimited choice.
There are plenty of games that require sustained attention - Zelda's a good example. You explore, you get stuck, you try again or maybe come back later after thinking about how to solve some of the puzzles. They can be really challenging but the accomplishment after the effort feels good.
There are other games, however, which feel very different. The ones built around speed, fast feedback and quick rewards, often on platforms with endless choice if things get too tricky. The ones where the achievement feels much shallower and short-lived.
Those environments make it very easy to leave something as soon as it feels difficult. That's not always a bad thing, there are some benefits to these types of games when used now and again, but I wonder if, over time, they encourage a habit of moving on quickly rather than persisting.
AI and the Disappearing Space Between Question and Answer
AI brings this into even sharper focus.
'ChatGPT' is becoming a verb now in the same way 'Google' did years ago.
I use AI, it's useful and convenient at times and I spend time learning how to use it well, but I'm very careful about how my children use it. It can offer immediate answers with little effort required and I wonder, if every answer is available at their fingertips, what exactly are they practising?
Knowledge isn’t just the collection of facts, it's about holding information in your mind, linking it to other areas and seeing how it all fits together. That kind of thinking takes time and repetition, and doesn’t come from instant answers.
Information is easy to find but understanding has to be earned.
And in a world of constant information, our children will need more than access to just facts. They’ll need enough stored knowledge to make good judgments and think critically about what they come across.
To know whether something feels right, you need something to compare it against - a bit of knowledge, experience or a sense of how things usually work. How can you decide if a piece of writing is good or an argument is well reasoned if you don't have an internal reference point for what 'good' is?
The same is true in maths. There's no point using a calculator if you don't have a rough idea of the answer you're expecting.
So when answers come too easily, there's a risk that we skip the very process that turns information into understanding.
Why Deliberate Practice Matters
This is why I think the chess experience was important.
Learning is not always a smooth A-to-B process, it usually involves some level of challenge, frustration and persistence.
So my question is: what happens if more and more of children’s learning takes place in environments that are fast, convenient and designed to keep them moving? Where less time is spent on making mistakes and sitting with the uncertainty and frustration that often comes just before something clicks.
I used to think if children were interested enough in something, they'd naturally learn - and I still believe that to a degree. But not quite in the same way.
My son's chess experience made me look a bit more closely and see that it's about more than just enthusiasm. It's also how and where the attention is being placed.
You've probably heard the idea that 10,000 hours of practice equates to mastery. Maybe that's true, but I'm more aware now that how they practise matters as much as how much they practise.
Are they spending time working just beyond their ability, slowing down to analyse mistakes and learning from them? Or is it mostly repeating familiar patterns without much reflection, moving quickly from one thing to the next?
Those are two very different kinds of practice that probably lead to two very different outcomes over time. Both have value in their own way - repetition can really help to consolidate learning and sometimes we just want to do things for fun, not thinking about progress.
But if it's the only thing going on when we're hoping to learn or improve, where does the growth happen?
Choosing Slower Spaces
For now, I'm thinking more carefully about where our attention is placed as a family. Not because I think there's anything wrong with AI, video games or fast-paced learning, or that convenience is something to avoid - all of these are part of our lives.
But because I can already see how quickly habits change when speed and ease become the norm.
I saw this in myself the other day when I ran out of an ingredient I needed for dinner and, without even thinking, I picked up my phone and asked AI for an alternative. But afterwards I realised I would have come up with the same answer - or a better one - if I spent a minute just thinking about it.
The saddest part for me was that my son was standing next to me watching me do that. If that's the way he sees problems being solved, what happens to all the things that come from trying first? The wrong turns, the little discoveries, the ideas that only appear because something didn't work the first time.
I think about that important space between a question and its answer, a problem and its solution, the beginning of a project and the finished result.
It's not always a comfortable space to be in; frustration, uncertainty, mistakes and boredom can be found there. But so too can patience, resilience, persistence and deeper understanding.
And it's the space I increasingly want to protect for my children.
I've always tried to keep life a little slower for my kids where I can and home education helps a lot with that - long projects, time outdoors, lots of slow-paced books and movies, space for play, creativity and boredom.
But despite this slowness, I can see how easily little changes creep in and take effect. With just a few more games, a bit more technology, more convenience and busier weeks, there are subtle changes in attention, patience, persistence and mood.
But the encouraging part is this: it seems to work both ways. As much as it's surprisingly easy to unwittingly move towards more speed and convenience, I've also seen how quickly we notice the benefits once we slow things down again.
Every environment teaches something. Some teach us to move on, others teach us to stay and I do think that both have value. But as things get more fast-paced, the ability to hold attention on something for a bit longer or stay with a tough problem might become one of the most valuable skills we can help our children to develop.
It’s certainly something I’m trying to focus on more deliberately now, both for my children and for myself.