The ascent of D. Gukesh in late 2024, culminating in his crowning as the youngest-ever Chess World Champion, was a triumph of youth and ambition. Yet, 2025 has proved that holding the scepter is often far more difficult than claiming it. The year was characterized by stark inconsistency: brilliant individual victories overshadowed by disappointing exits in major events, notably a premature third-round dismissal from the World Cup. This turbulence has inevitably led the wider chess community to commit the cardinal sin of questioning the champion’s legitimacy.
The Inconsistent Reality of the Teenage King
Gukesh’s coach, Grzegorz Gajewski, remains admirably pragmatic about the situation. He correctly points out that inconsistencies are an expected feature of elite performance when the athlete is still a teenager. The raw statistics of 2025 certainly present a mixed picture: Gukesh pushed Magnus Carlsen hard at Norway Chess, secured wins against the former world champion in rapid formats, and narrowly missed the Tata Steel Masters title. These moments offered flashes of the genius that secured him the classical crown.
However, the lapses in critical classical events have been undeniable failures. A 41st-place finish at the FIDE Grand Swiss and the aforementioned World Cup debacle stand out as major competitive setbacks. Coupled with struggles in faster time controls—a domain where a modern champion is expected to excel—2025 looks, by any metric, like a necessary, but poor, year for the reigning champion.
The Weight of Achievement: A Quest for New Motivation
Gajewski suggests that the core issue is not purely technical, but psychological. `When you work all your life for something, and then you get it, you have to find new motivations, it can be difficult for someone so young,` he explained. Gukesh completed his lifelong ambition before he could legally buy a drink in some countries.
Unfortunately, the elite chess world is not a place for philosophical concessions. The champion is expected to be a perpetual machine of excellence, near-perfect across all formats and time controls. This expectation stems from the legacy of titans like Garry Kasparov and Carlsen. Indeed, some veterans, including Kasparov, have publicly voiced doubts, suggesting the crown somehow feels less substantial resting on Gukesh`s head. Gajewski, defending his ward with measured ferocity, is perplexed by these claims:
“Does he deserve the world championship? Of course he does, because he won it.”
The Strategic Overhaul: Less is More in 2026
The solution, Gajewski recognizes, lies not just in shoring up specific opening preparation—though that work is ongoing, and understandably confidential—but in implementing a fundamental strategic overhaul of the competitive calendar. The past year saw Gukesh participate in an exhaustive schedule: the Freestyle Chess Tour, the Grand Chess Tour, invitational classical majors (Tata Steel, Norway Chess), and high-profile exhibitions (like the Clutch Chess event against Nakamura, Caruana, and Carlsen).
While opportunities like playing the top three players simultaneously are difficult to refuse, they extract a toll. The team is now grappling with the difficult calculus of balancing career opportunity with the essential need for rest and focused preparation. In 2026, the strategy will be decidedly more selective.
The renewed focus will be uncompromisingly on classical chess, the format that matters most, particularly with the defense of the crown looming. While Gukesh will not abandon high-stakes rapid and blitz events, such as the World Rapid and Blitz Championships, these will become supplemental, rather than central, to the annual plan.
The Road Ahead: Silence Through Success
Gukesh himself admitted after his coronation that he was not yet the best player in the world, merely the world champion. Based on the evidence of 2025, that distance has momentarily increased. However, 2026 offers a crucial opportunity for correction and consolidation.
By learning the brutal lessons of overcommitment and the psychological weight of the title, Gukesh and Gajewski are systematically constructing the building blocks necessary for a successful defense. Defending the crown will do more than simply retain the title; it will effectively silence the external noise and definitively answer the questions of legitimacy.
After all, few would dare question the merit of a back-to-back world champion. The difficult grind that secured the title in Singapore must now be repeated—with more precision and surgical planning—to keep it.
Felix Harwood