The Power of Chess in Prisons: Creating Opportunity Behind Bars
In this week's blog ECF Home Development Director Yuri Krylov provides some perspectives on Chess in Prisons based on his work with Carl Portman and other volunteers in prisons across England.
The Power of Chess in Prisons by Yuri Krylov
Following my first visit to HMP Bullingdon last year with our ECF chess in prisons officer, Carl Portman MBE, chess in prisons has become one of the most fascinating and rewarding areas of chess development I have encountered.
Carl always said that ‘chess in prisons gives prisoners a sense of purpose, a sense of achievement and most importantly it is a wonderful tool for personal growth. It is a journey of self-discovery’, but at the time I knew very little about how prison chess clubs operated or why they mattered. Since then visits to HMP Wormwood Scrubs, YOI Feltham, HMP Bronzefield and YOI ISIS alongside FM Andy Smith and Peter Sullivan of Chess in Schools and Communities (CSC) have completely changed my perspective.
What struck me immediately was that chess inside prison is not simply a way to pass the time. It creates structure, discipline and purpose in environments where those things can often be lacking. Carl Portman’s work over many years has demonstrated how valuable the game can become behind bars, with prisoners speaking about improved concentration, emotional control and even finding a sense of calm through chess. One prisoner summed it up perfectly when he told Carl, ‘I now push pawns, not drugs.’
That sense of purpose was very evident during the recent 2ⁿᵈ Continental Prison Chess Championships. The event was played online through anonymised Chess.com accounts, and featured prison teams from across Europe. Although I neither knew nor wanted to know the identities of the players, I found myself following the games far more closely than I probably should have during the working day.
Having recently visited both HMP Bronzefield, where the women’s team was based, and YOI ISIS, where the youth team played, I felt unusually invested in the results. I was delighted to see the women’s team finish third behind two very strong Georgian teams and the youth side take second place. The games themselves were wonderfully entertaining. With developing players anything can happen at any moment, and the evaluation bar swings wildly from move to move. Previously I had taken Maidenhead players to YOI ISIS, and we had already seen just how talented some of the players were, so their strong performance came as no surprise.
The championship also reinforced something I have increasingly come to believe: prison chess benefits enormously from having meaningful competition and aspiration. Casual games are valuable, but representing your prison in an organised event changes the psychology completely. Players prepare seriously, support one another, and develop pride in representing their establishment. That is one of the reasons I am now working on plans for an official English Prison Chess Championship in partnership between the ECF and CSC. The proposal would begin with six CSC-supported prisons competing in an online rapidplay league, before expanding in future years.
Before any future championships, however, there are still clubs to visit and games to play. Most recently it was my turn to take Andy Smith into a prison chess club rather than the other way around. Joining us also from Maidenhead Chess Club were Charles Bullock, Maksym Kryshtopenko and Simon Foster. Although Carl Portman could not attend on this occasion, Joshua Wainwright made the visit possible by organising access and accompanying us throughout the day, and I cannot speak highly enough of how smoothly everything was arranged with his help. Josh is deeply committed to outreach and rehabilitation work within the prison, and is clearly passionate about helping prisoners reconnect with the outside world in positive and constructive ways.
What impressed me most was the breadth of the work taking place. From ‘departure lounges’ designed to help newly released prisoners transition back into society, to art programmes and a chess club that has now been running successfully for three years, there was a genuine sense of people trying to create opportunities and stability in what is often an extremely difficult environment. Prisons are rarely glamorous institutions, and are probably not the first places people think of when discussing public funds investment or recognition. I certainly cannot claim to be an expert on the prison sector, but it seems entirely logical to me that the kind of work Josh and his colleagues are doing must help reduce reoffending. If that is the case, it not only saves public money in the long term, but also helps build safer and more stable communities. Even from the perspective of a visiting chess player it was difficult not to come away feeling that this work genuinely matters.
Josh also showed us some of the wider rehabilitation work taking place within the prison. We were particularly impressed by the gardens maintained by prisoners and by a huge mural that Josh and the inmates had created together. He explained that it was the first thing new prisoners saw when entering the establishment, telling a story of rebuilding yourself and moving from darkness towards something brighter. Unsurprisingly chess pieces featured prominently within the artwork, reflecting how important the game had become as part of the rehabilitation programme.
It quickly became clear that Josh had thought carefully about every stage of the prisoner journey – from those difficult first moments arriving in prison through to preparing people for release back into the community. I was glad he had. When he later took us onto one of the wings themselves, the contrast with the calm and welcoming atmosphere of the chess club was striking. The club environment had felt relaxed, social and constructive; the wing was far harsher and more overwhelming. Spending all day in that environment would clearly take its toll on anyone, which perhaps made the value of activities like chess, art and education feel even more obvious.
We spent around two hours playing chess with roughly ten prisoners who came down during the session. The range of ability was enormous, from complete beginners to strong club-level players. One of the most remarkable things about prison chess is how quickly many players improve. Someone who says they have only been playing for a couple of months is often far tougher opposition than expected. Having Andy with us certainly strengthened our side considerably. As a former British Over 65 champion and FIDE master he was naturally in great demand throughout the morning. One particularly memorable moment came from a game Andy played against one of the prisoners. Before the game began the prisoner explained that he did not really know opening theory, but had read somewhere that with White it was sensible to play moves such as d4, Bf4, Bd3, Nf3 and Nbd2. Andy smiled, and explained that this was in fact a recognised opening known as the London System.
The two then played a training game together, with Andy guiding him through the ideas behind the position rather than simply trying to beat him. After completing his development with moves like 0–0, Qe2 and Rae1, the prisoner was encouraged to think about a middlegame plan. Andy suggested the thematic break e4, opening the centre and launching an attack against the black king. What followed was exactly the sort of moment that makes prison chess so valuable. The inmate began to spot strong attacking ideas for himself, including an exchange sacrifice on e6, before eventually delivering checkmate.
1.d4 Nf6 2.Bf4 d5 3.e3 c5 4.Bd3 Nc6 5.Nf3 e6 6.Nbd2 Be7 7.c3 0-0 8.0-0 b6 9.Qe2 Bb7 10.Rae1 Rc8 11.e4 dxe4 12.Nxe4 Nxe4 13.Qxe4 g6 14.Bh6 Re8 15.h4 Bf8 16.Bxf8 Rxf8 17.h5 Qe7 18.hxg6 hxg6 19.Qg4 Rfd8 20.Ng5 Rd7 21.Qh4 f5 22.Rxe6 Qg7 23.Rfe1 Rcd8 24.Bc4 Rd5 25.Re8+ Rxe8 26.Rxe8+ Qf8 27.Qh7# 1–0
More important than the result itself was the reaction afterwards. Andy could see how proud the man was of what he had achieved. As the session ended he left determined to study more chess so that, in his own words, he could play even better next time. It was a small moment, but one that perfectly captured how chess can build confidence and self-esteem in an environment where both are often in short supply.
Meanwhile Charles and I found ourselves repeatedly facing another inmate whose preferred opening plan involved a4, Ra3, h4 and Rh3. Sadly for him the ‘surprise attack’ did not quite stand up to scrutiny, and eventually led to an impromptu lesson on the importance of central control and basic opening principles. Elsewhere Maksym became deeply involved in a competitive mini-match, eventually emerging 4–1 ahead. Simon observed that, as Maksym normally spends most of his time accompanying his son to tournaments, it was probably the most chess he had personally played all season. We finished the session with a blitz game between Simon and a prisoner – playing those on analogue clocks felt very old school, but Simon’s opponent did flag and the tech worked, as I saw the physical flag fall – something I have not seen for at least 35 years! The frantic ending reminded Charles and me of our earlier visit to YOI ISIS, where we finished the session by trying bughouse chess for the first time. Unfortunately we did not have enough time to do that on this occasion, but it is something we might want to try again next time.
For anyone unfamiliar with bughouse, it is essentially chess descending into complete chaos: pieces captured on one board can immediately be dropped onto another by your partner. None of us really knew what we were doing, and the positions very quickly became completely absurd. I am still not entirely sure when one is supposed to capture pieces and when one should simply start throwing them onto the board, but everybody loved it. The atmosphere was incredibly positive, with shouting, laughter and frantic piece-dropping everywhere you looked. Having started with the two on two bughouse and moved up to four by four, the chaos on the boards grew exponentially. It was impossible not to leave smiling afterwards.
What stays with you most strongly after these visits is how normal the atmosphere feels once the games begin. The barriers disappear remarkably quickly. People analyse positions, laugh about blunders, argue about openings and crowd around tense endings exactly as they would in any local chess club. These visits have also shown me how much prison clubs value support from the wider chess community. Donations of analogue clocks, chess sets and books are always appreciated, and genuinely make a difference. Something sitting unused in a cupboard at home can become an important part of somebody else’s rehabilitation and education.
I must also admit there was one final hidden agenda behind the latest visit. During my previous trip to HMP Bullingdon I had completely fallen in love with the handmade chessboards produced there, and I wanted one to become the trophy for the proposed English Prison Chess Championship. I am delighted to say that the prison kindly donated one to me, and I now hope to have it framed ahead of launching the inaugural event this autumn with the support of CSC and the ECF. Chess is often described as a universal language, but nowhere have I seen that more clearly than inside prison walls. In places often associated only with punishment and confinement chess creates conversation, community, responsibility and hope. That is why this work matters, and why I hope more people across English chess will become involved in supporting it.
