This week Deep Blue, the IBM supercomputer, won a six-game match against world chess champion Garry Kasparov, probably the best player in the history of the game. It's the first time a computer has beaten a human champion in such a match. Like the recent discovery that adult mammals (such as us) can be cloned (see Slate's "The Week/The Clones"), Deep Blue's victory has prompted a flurry of debate about its import and consequences. Here are some of the reactions, in order of ascending sophistication.

1. Computers are conquering us. This is the crudest and most common reaction. "Man vs. Machine ... The Brain's Last Stand," trumpeted the cover of Newsweek. In this view, machines first took over our muscular functions, such as transportation, and are now supplanting our mental functions. How is this possible? Can computers think? Many reporters didn't even think to raise that question.

2. Deep Blue is just a fancy calculator. This is the simplest critique. All Deep Blue does is crunch numbers. A human player considers three or four options and picks the one that will put him in the best position two moves later. Deep Blue considers 200 million positions per second and picks the option that will put it in the best position 10 moves later. The machine isn't surpassing or even matching the human player in its grasp of the flow of the game or the relations among the pieces. It's just processing a lot more data a lot faster.

3. Deep Blue displays intelligence. Kasparov and others cite as evidence: finesse (playing a quiet move with a subtle payoff instead of a bold move with an obvious payoff); coherent strategy (a long series of moves that make sense together, as opposed to the choppy, ad hoc moves for which computers are notorious); and appreciation of subtle positional problems (e.g., the overextension of one's pieces), the existence and value of which are very difficult, if not impossible, to ascertain mathematically.

4. These signs of "intelligence" are just artifacts of calculation. Subtlety? The computer wowed Kasparov by choosing a quiet pawn move instead of a devastating queen move in Game 2. Afterward, a printout of the computer's reasoning showed that it had simply looked ahead and noticed that the distant consequences of the pawn move were better. Coherent strategy? True, a machine that sees 10 moves ahead doesn't have to adjust its strategy as often as a machine that sees four moves ahead. But this is just a difference of degree. Why do we impute human intelligence to these feats? Sheer vanity. Simone de Beauvoir once remarked that women who excel are accused of being men. Likewise, machines that excel are accused of being human.

5. The match wasn't a true measure of Deep Blue's superiority, because Kasparov simply lost his composure. This is the favorite excuse of Kasparov and several other grandmasters. Kasparov says he was traumatized by his loss in Game 2 and never recovered his confidence. By Game 5, he was completely demoralized, and in Game 6, he resigned after just 19 moves. He insists he was defeated not by Deep Blue's prowess but by his own fear, dismay, and exhaustion. As the Boston Globe sympathetically puts it, "Kasparov was beaten by the enemies within."

6. Kasparov's loss of composure is a true measure of Deep Blue's superiority. Kasparov's trademark is his ability to destroy the composure of his opponents. Deep Blue simply beat him at his own game. It coolly parried his attacks, making no mistakes, and rattled him with moves he hadn't anticipated. "Its inscrutable face gave nothing away," marveled the New York Times. It "exhibited qualities of scrupulous care, unshakable calm and remarkable powers of concentration and endurance." It "never agonized, was never tired, never showed joy or disappointment." Requisite cultural reference: The Terminator.

7. The match wasn't a true measure of Deep Blue's superiority, because Kasparov didn't play in his usual style. This is another version of argument No. 5. Like a politician, the champ blames his defeat on his advisers. He says they persuaded him to scrap his usual playing style in order to surprise the computer and keep it off-balance. In doing so, he lost his way. But again: Cowing one's opponent into changing his style is a time-honored method of winning at chess.

8. Deep Blue's team cheated. Kasparov points out that he had no way of knowing whether the machine was secretly getting help. He suggests that its engineers may have tampered with it during the match. (For more on Kasparov's whining, see Slate's "Sore Loser.") The media have taken this complaint seriously, failing to notice that it makes about as much sense as accusing a race-car driver of pedaling. Requisite cultural references: The man behind the curtain in The Wizard of Oz; also, "the Turk," the 18^th century chess-playing "machine" that secretly housed a dwarf.

9. Deep Blue isn't intelligent, because it can't theorize and adapt. This is a more sophisticated version of argument No. 2. As Washington Post writer (and Slate contributor) Joel Achenbach explains: "Kasparov can create a model in his head of Deep Blue's 'personality'--he can figure out the machine's bad habits. Then he can adapt. Machines aren't nearly as flexible and crafty as humans. They never learn."