(Trigger Warning: This piece contains discussions of suicide, bullying, and mental health struggles, which may be distressing for some readers.)
On November 7th, 2025, Grandmaster Daniel Naroditsky, a beloved chess personality, would’ve turned 30. Instead, on October 20th (IST), he was found dead on his couch by his friends, inviting the local police in Charlotte to investigate a possible suicide or overdose. While the cause of his death remains unverified, the chess world, including its highest-rated player, Magnus Carlsen, is in overwhelming agreement that Daniel deserved better than the bullying that punctuated the last year of his existence.
The Russian grandmaster, fondly nicknamed ‘Danya’, was a childhood prodigy always meant to scale great heights. He published his first book on positional chess in his teens, and later earned the highest chess title of Grandmaster. A Stanford history graduate, Daniel walked away from the world of academia where he held so much potential, to live the game he’d always loved. He became an esteemed chess player, columnist, commentator, and educator, where his beaming passion for the game led him to play all-night blitz matches, rivaling the best speed chess players in the world. His commentary and teaching, brimming with enthusiastic legends of the past, witty puns, clever impressions, and lucid explanations, made chess exciting and instructive for players of all levels and from around the world. He was fondly celebrated as the ‘Prophet’ when he predicted the possibility of a Scholar’s mate, the fastest checkmate, during Pogchamps, a competition for amateur streamers.
Danya was universally loved by those he collaborated with: everyone, from the chess noob climbing the rating ladder to world-renowned grandmasters, enjoyed talking chess and playing against him. Though he wore many hats and was available as an educator and commentator sometimes round-the-clock, he was never too busy for anyone and made no one feel less-than. He reminded lower-rated players of the games they had beaten him in, and offered them odds matches in collaborative streams to even the playing field. He was gracious with his time and incredibly generous with his knowledge. He brought countless people of all ages into the game with his years of free and educational streams. In his speedruns, where he would beat amateur players and use these games as a teaching tool, when confronted with cheaters, he was never quick to accuse them. Integrity and kindness were extremely important to Danya, and everyone who knew him truly found him to be helpful, humble, and honest.
This conscientious man was afflicted with unsubstantiated accusations of cheating in chess, a game he had dedicated his entire life to, levied by Vladimir Kramnik, a former chess world champion and one of Daniel’s childhood heroes. Danya, hoping that the suspicions were made in good faith, spent many months proving his innocence by installing anti-cheating software and multiple cameras, and engaging in many futile discussions. However, Kramnik was relentless, punishing and irrational in advancing his false narrative regarding the unfounded suspicions, garnering some support in the Russian community, to which Daniel belonged. Dismissing Kramnik as senile as he had been accusing many players incessantly without evidence, most top players remained silent in the face of Danya’s struggle, with the notable exception of Hikaru Nakamura, who is currently world number #2.
Danya’s mental health decline was well documented over a year, as his wins and losses were always coloured with cheating accusations, to the extent that the chat would spam ‘Cheater’ during his commentary for notable events. Despite his tying for top place in the World Blitz Chess Championship Swiss (2024) and convincingly winning 14/14 blitz games in the US National Championship (2024), the unreasonable allegations continued to haunt him. This cruelty followed him all the way to the end as he declared in his last stream that he couldn’t afford to have a winning streak off-screen without audience members suspecting him of foul play. In fact, this vitriol followed him even after his death, with Kramnik pointing fingers at his innocent and incredibly supportive friends. This sentiment was echoed by the CEO of FIDE, the international chess federation, in a tweet that was later amended following severe public backlash. A costly lesson learnt too late, many popular chess players and streamers have now called for FIDE to stand against Kramnik’s digital bullying, with a petition for his ban garnering no less than 50,000 signatures, another testament to the respect Danya commands to date.
This article is about more than celebrating Danya, the talented and delightful chess player who entertained and amazed us with bullet-brawl and Titled Tuesday wins, as well as overall speed chess dominance and accomplishments, too numerous to count, though it is important to note that this player had ambitions of improving his classical chess to earn a ranking in the world’s top 50. This is a tribute to the soft, universally adored human who was always careful to demonstrate kindness and extend grace to others, who acted in good faith with dignity, but was slowly eroded by poisonous accusations that insidiously destroyed him. It is about not giving in to the bystander effect and dissociating responsibility in groups or online, but instead sensitizing and holding people and organizations in power accountable to act against digital bullying and the torturous psychological abuse it inflicts. We do not know for sure how or why we lost Daniel, but both his presence and his passing are crucial reminders for the world to speak kindness more than it speaks hatred.
We, as a society, bear the collective weight and responsibility of preventing suicides, and this might look different for each individual and organisation. To me, this looks like reaching out to loved ones or checking up on someone who appears to be going through a tough time, offering help, being generous with my compliments to strangers in the elevator, or having an extra smile and a kind word on tiring days, because you never know who desperately needs that. As the chess world is in collective mourning, I offer my heartfelt condolences to those who knew him, his mother, brother and friends, who’ve been relegated to an unenviable position and whose loss is unbearable. While his legacy is being kept alive on a larger scale, with donations and awards being offered in his name, this write-up is a minuscule contribution to honour the man who reached countless chess enthusiasts in every corner of the world.
Loss brings with it many questions and lessons to reflect on. As I remember the teacher who introduced me to the world of chess, a universe I’ve inhabited for hundreds of hours now, the thread that holds this piece together is grief, and it is a string that is not always linear or coherent. I learnt that grief looked so different this time. It looked like stunned silence that lingered and festered quietly as I mourned, separate from anyone in IIT-M, but together with the chess community around the world, as I’ve traversed from Kubler Ross’ denial to depression, and inch towards acceptance in a slow and pained tread.
This loss was also a poignant reminder not to take anyone’s presence for granted. Danya would be my go-to answer to the oft-asked question, “Which celebrity would you like to share a meal with?” Having discovered Danya in the pandemic, I’d lost track of his career the last couple of years, assuming that my teacher would always be around. I’d hoped to meet him one day and thank him for the impact he’s had on my life, not just on my undying gleeful enthusiasm for the game, but on the kind of teacher and person I want to be, and I’m immortalizing my gratitude here instead.
All losses are also invitations to consider how you’d want to live. As his friends in the chess world remember his bright mind, undeniable wit and the joy that radiated from his giving, loving being, his passing also invites us to reflect on what we want to or have to offer to the world and how we’d like to be remembered. The loss that is being mourned across continents is also a gentle encouragement to be harbingers of light in this dark world and to be an instrumental voice advocating for what you deem important. It is also a nudge for us to reach out and stay connected with loved ones before it’s too late, for life is ephemeral, while death is eternal.
Rest easy, Sensei. We wish the heavens bring you whispers of the chess community’s love. As long as chess lives on, so will your legacy. The light you brought into the world is forever held in the history books you cherished so. On behalf of the chess world, thank you!
— Edited by Eshani Battacharjee | Design by Vasuki
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