Denis Lazavik's defense of gender-split training camps at Mikhail Shereshevsky's academy has ignited pushback from the chess community. The Belarusian grandmaster doubled down on the separation in an interview with streamer Chess Yaroslav, claiming women simply cannot grasp the material men learn at these sessions.
Lazavik's specific complaint centered on his attempt to study openings with GM Alexei Shirov. When women joined the group, he insisted the sessions became unproductive. He frames this as a pedagogical problem rather than prejudice. His argument: women lack the foundational understanding to absorb advanced theoretical work pitched at elite male players.
This reasoning crumbles under scrutiny. The premise that women cannot understand the same chess concepts as men has no factual basis. Women grandmasters like Hou Yifan, Tan Zhongyi, and Kateryna Lagno have demonstrated mastery of the deepest opening theory and endgame technique. They compete successfully against men at the highest levels. The gap is not intellectual. It is institutional and historical.
What Lazavik really revealed is this: he is uncomfortable teaching in mixed groups. Whether that stems from social awkwardness, cultural factors, or something else hardly matters. His solution, segregation, treats the problem as inherent to women rather than as something he and his co-instructors could fix through better pedagogy.
Shereshevsky's camp splits matter because these programs shape the next generation of elite players. Training methodology and access directly influence who rises to the top. If women cannot sit in the same room for theoretical discussion, the message sent to younger female chess players is clear: you don't belong in advanced competitive preparation.
The chess world has moved beyond this. Mixed-gender tournaments are standard. Women play men constantly at the highest level. Online platforms erase gender entirely. Yet training camps, supposedly the incubators of future champions, apparently operate under different rules.
Other coaches and trainers now face pressure to state their position. Do they agree with Lazavik? Or will they openly commit to integrated training environments where skill, not gender, determines who sits at the board?
Lazavik's comments will likely damage his reputation among serious players and coaches. Belarusian chess federations may distance themselves from these views. More importantly, female players considering enrollment at Shereshevsky's program now have clear information about how they will be treated.
The chess world talks constantly about growing the game and developing new talent. That conversation rings hollow when the people running elite academies segregate their students.