Combinatorial Game Theory
who wins, and by how much
Concept

Dyadic rational — where it appears

A fraction whose denominator is a power of two, and the only kind of number a position born in finitely many moves can be worth. The denominator records how many days of construction the value needed, so a half arrives before a quarter and a third never arrives at all.

Named by 20 essays across 6 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.

The picture is the numeral. Blue-red Hackenbush strings and their values. Left may cut a blue edge, Right a red one, and everything above the cut falls. The value of each string is a number, and reading the string from the ground upward gives the binary expansion of exactly that number.

Hackenbush is a numeral

Draw a stalk of coloured edges. Read it as a string, blue for one and red for zero, and the string is the binary expansion of what the position is worth. Not approximately — exactly, and the site computes it both ways and refuses to build if they disagree.

positions · Hackenbush The simplest number in between. A game whose options are numbers is worth the simplest number strictly between them — and simplest means born earliest, so integers come before halves and halves before quarters. It is not the midpoint, and the difference is the whole content of the rule.

The simplicity rule

When both players' options are numbers, the position is worth the simplest number strictly between them. Not the midpoint, not the average, and the difference between "simplest" and "middle" is the entire content of the rule.

values · Numbers Every row of 8 squares, and the 36 values they hold. A census of Kōnane rows: how many arrangements of a row of squares carry each value, with the shortest row carrying that value printed beside it. Most arrangements are worth nothing at all; the rest spread over numbers, halves and quarters, stars, switches and infinitesimals — the whole vocabulary of the theory, from a game that predates it.

A game older than the theory

Kōnane was played on carved lava boards in Hawai‘i long before anybody wrote a brace notation, and its rule for losing is the normal-play convention arrived at some centuries early. Evaluate a row of it and the answers are halves, quarters, stars and infinitesimals — the theory's whole vocabulary, out of a game that was not built to display any of it.

applied · Kōnane The numbers, by the day they are born. Zero on the first day, ±1 on the second, and thereafter the simplest number in each remaining gap. Every number reachable in finitely many days is a fraction with a power of two underneath, and every such fraction appears — which is a strange thing for a construction with no arithmetic in it to produce.

The day a number is born

Start with a position in which neither player can move, apply one rule, and the numbers appear — but only the fractions with a power of two underneath, and only in a particular order. That order is what "simplest" means.

values · Numbers The days this site can compute, and the ones it cannot. Zero on the first day, ±1 on the second, and thereafter the simplest number in every remaining gap — the construction run by the game recursion, which produces only fractions with a power of two underneath however long it goes on. Below it, three objects the same recursion reaches when the stopping rule is removed, each written with its option set and the exact reason this site's machinery cannot hold it. They are named rather than drawn, which is the honest half of a figure-first collection.

The numbers came out of the game

The construction is always taught numbers first and games second, and the discovery ran the other way. Conway arrived at the number system from positions, which is why the definition quantifies over sets of previously built objects rather than over cuts — and why it produces a genuinely different collection at every finite stage.

history · Numbers The days this site can compute, and the ones it cannot. Zero on the first day, ±1 on the second, and thereafter the simplest number in every remaining gap — the construction run by the game recursion, which produces only fractions with a power of two underneath however long it goes on. Below it, three objects the same recursion reaches when the stopping rule is removed, each written with its option set and the exact reason this site's machinery cannot hold it. They are named rather than drawn, which is the honest half of a figure-first collection.

The recursion this site cannot run

Remove the stopping condition from the construction and it reaches ω, its reciprocal, and one third — none of which this site's evaluator can represent, because it interns a position from a finite list of options. The figure draws what it computes and names what it cannot, which is where the boundary belongs.

values · Numbers A hot position, split into its mean and what is left. Each row is a position cooled by exactly its own temperature — the tax at which it stops being worth moving in. The result is the mean value with something small still attached, and the last column is that something, obtained by subtracting the mean from the cooled game rather than by inspection.

A number and a fight

Charge a position exactly what it is worth fighting over and the fight disappears, leaving the mean value — with something still attached to it. Over all 1,122 hot values born by day three the residue is smaller than every positive number, it is a star in 942 of them, and it is never nothing. So a hot game is its mean plus a fight plus a remainder that no number reports, and the remainder is what decides close games.

temperature · Dissociation The same strips, with no jumping. Elephants and Rhinos: toads move right and frogs move left, one square into an empty one, and nothing may hop over anything. The pieces keep their order for ever, and the values are computed by the same recursion as the game with the jump in it.

The same strip without the jump

Delete one clause from Toads and Frogs — the hop over an opponent — and the game is Elephants and Rhinos. Over the same 3,279 strips the values do not become simpler in the way a reader would guess: every value that is a number becomes an integer, against 172 fractions with the jump in, and the count of positions worth fighting over nearly doubles. Removing a move made the game hotter.

positions · Toads and Frogs What the auction can and cannot see. Values under both conventions. The Richman value is the share of the money the second player needs; a half means the position itself decides nothing and whoever has more money wins. Every infinitesimal on the list, and zero with them, comes out at a half.

Nobody has to move

Every convention here rests on one sentence nobody examines — the players move alternately. Replace it with an auction and a position stops having an outcome class and starts having a number: the share of the money the second player needs. The 22 values born by day two collapse to seven of those numbers, eight of them landing on exactly a half; the new number respects the game order on all 179 comparable pairs, and is not determined by the parts under addition on 14 of 49.

limits · Bidding Shove strips, and what each is worth. A shelf of positions with the value the recursion returns beside each. Every one is a number: Shove has no hot positions at all, which is unusual for a partizan game and is the first of the essay's three claims.

Nothing worth fighting over

Shove is a strip of coins beside a cliff, and both players have completely different moves. Every one of its 728 positions is worth a number, so nobody ever wants to move; the winner is the owner of the coin furthest from the cliff, in all 728; and the number the board is worth is not the sum of its coins — that reading is exact on 126 strips and wrong on 588 of the other 602.

positions · Shove Trees, and what each is worth. A row of blue-red Hackenbush trees with the value the recursion returns under each. Every one is a number, and none of them is the binary reading of anything a reader can see in the picture.

A tree is still a number

A Hackenbush string spells its own value in binary. Put a fork in it and the numeral has nothing to read — there is no leftmost anything. The value is still a number, in all 10,066 forests up to six edges; it is still computable, by the ordinal sum, in all 3,238 single-trunk trees; and the reading is right on 762 of them, of which 126 are the strings it was written for.

positions · Hackenbush Push and Shove over every strip up to 6 squares. The same strips under both rules. A cliff lets coins fall off and a wall does not, and the census says what that one clause is worth: both games are entirely made of numbers, they never agree on a value, and the obvious board-reading is right far more often under the wall than under the cliff.

The other way to move a row

Shove has a cliff and Push has a wall, and that is the whole of the difference. Both games make every one of the 728 strips up to six squares a number, so neither ever has anything worth fighting over — and the two rules do not agree on the value of a single position. The obvious board-reading is exact on 446 strips under the wall and on 140 under the cliff, and 486 strips contain a coin its owner cannot move at all.

positions · Push The numbers each position is confused with. Each row is a position. The bar runs from its right stop to its left stop; the filled part is the set of numbers the position is genuinely confused with, computed one comparison at a time. The two coincide except at the ends, and a position whose stops meet is confused with nothing at all even when it is not a number.

The numbers it is confused with

A position is confused with a number when neither is at least as good as the other, and the set of such numbers is an interval. It is exactly the open interval between the two stops: over 36,850 comparisons the rule is wrong nowhere it speaks, and the 2,596 comparisons it declines are precisely the ones at an endpoint, where the position and the number differ by an infinitesimal.

values · Stops Every strip, without the hop. Toads and Frogs with the jump deleted, over every strip up to eight squares. The fourth column is the argument: whenever the value is a number it is a whole number, without exception, so the fractions the ordinary game produces are made by the hop and by nothing else.

The strip where every number is a whole one

Delete the hop from Toads and Frogs and the halves, quarters and ups vanish completely: over 9,801 strips, every value that is a number is an integer, without a single exception. The guess that the hopless game therefore has a formula reading the gaps is half right and exactly wrong — 1,460 strips of eight squares are switches, and three strips with the same counts of toads, frogs and empty squares are worth 1, {2 | 1} and 2.

positions · Toads and Frogs What a value costs to write down. Every one of the 1,474 values born by day three, grouped by the width of its canonical form, with the number of symbols the form takes when it is written out. Each count was obtained by walking the canonical form and counting its nodes, so a subposition appearing twice is counted twice — which is what writing it out does. The widest values of the day are not the longest to write.

What a value costs to write down

The canonical form is the smallest form of its value, and it is smallest in the one currency the reduction happens to spend: options. Counted in symbols it is nothing of the kind — the widest value born by day three is not the longest, the longest has six options rather than seven, and every canonical form on the day except the seven integers writes some position out twice.

values · Reversibility How old a sum is. Every unordered pair of the twenty-two values born by day two, with nought dropped because adding it settles nothing — 231 sums. The birthday of each sum was read off its own canonical form and compared with the sum of the two parts' birthdays, which is the bound. The bound holds everywhere and is attained 163 times.

The birthday of a sum

Two values born by days m and n have a sum born by day m + n at the latest, which is the bound that stops a board made of many small parts from being unboundedly complicated. Over 231 pairs of day-two values the bound holds every time and is exact 163 times — and every pair it misses by three days or more has a sum that is a number or a nimber, so the slack is not noise but a measure of how much cancelled.

values · Numbers When counting the free squares gets Push right. Every Push strip of at most seven squares, split by whether any line of play can bring two coins of opposite colour together. Where none can, the count of free squares in front of each coin is the value, without exception; where one can, the count is right more often than not.

The reading that survives too much

Counting the empty squares in front of each coin gets a Push position right half the time, and the rung below said the failures were exactly the positions with two coins of opposite colour side by side. Sixty-six of the 1,072 failures have no such pair, the smallest is five squares long, and the condition that does decide it is not about the board at all — it is about every position the board can reach.

positions · Push The money played out, and it never mattered. The bidding rule played move by move with a countable pool of chips, at every way of splitting it. The verdict is constant across the splits and opposite under the two ways of resolving equal bids, so what settles these positions is the tie-break rather than the money.

The auction never gets to the money

The critical fraction is computed and never played. Played out with a countable pool of chips — twelve positions, four pool sizes, every split of the chips, every bid answered — the verdict does not move with the money on a single one of the forty-eight sweeps, and the rule for equal bids settles all forty-eight. The reason is one line long: declining every auction wins, and bidding nothing declines.

limits · Bidding The same number, from a rule that needs no tie-break. The number computed twice: once as the critical share of a pot under the auction, and once as the probability that Left wins when a fair coin decides who moves at each turn. They agree on every position, and only the second derivation survives being played out.

A coin needs no tie-break

The same recursion has a second derivation: a fair coin decides who moves at each turn, a player whose turn it is with no move has lost, and both play to win. Written from those rules it comes out identical on every position — and it needs no rule for equal bids, because there are no bids. The number is a probability, it belongs to Left rather than Right, and the empty position is the one where the coin decides everything.

limits · Bidding Every chance the coin gives, by day 2. The probabilities the coin produces over all the values born by a given day, drawn on the unit interval. They fall on a grid of dyadic fractions, every interior point of it is reached, and the two ends never are — so no position is ever a certainty under random turns.

Every chance but a certainty

The coin's number lands on a grid of dyadic fractions, and which points of that grid arrive is a count rather than a guess. Over the 1,474 values born by day three it reaches every one of the fifteen interior sixteenths and neither end — no position is ever certain. The groups sharing a chance run 1, 2, 4, 8 on the small pool, which looks like doubling, and 1, 2, 4, 20 on the large one, which is not.

limits · Bidding

Named alongside it

The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.

Exhaustive searchOutcome classInfinitesimalNormal playNumbersSimplicity ruleBirthdayCanonical formHackenbushStar (∗)Closed formPartizan

All concepts