Outcome class — where it appears
Named by 103 essays across 8 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
The first theorem, and the winner it declines to name
Zermelo proved in 1913 that a finite game with no chance and no hidden information is decided before anybody sits down — every position is a win for one side or a draw, and which one is settled already. The proof is a labelling procedure, and watching it run shows exactly how little it says.
The game in every exercise book
Dots and Boxes is played by more people than every game in this collection put together, and everybody is taught the same rule — take every box available. The rule is wrong. Establishing that takes a solver rather than an opinion, and the solver says how wrong, on which boards, and by how many boxes.
Who moves last
The player who cannot move loses. That single convention generates the whole theory — and it produces four outcomes rather than three, because a position can be confused with zero rather than greater, smaller or equal to it.
Loopy games
The whole theory assumes play stops. Allow a position to recur and the induction that every value rests on has nothing to stand on — and a fifth outcome appears that normal-play theory has no name for.
The theorem that needed none of the theory
Bouton solved Nim completely in 1901, with an argument that mentions no value, no sum of games and no Grundy number, because none of the three existed. The argument is two closure properties and it is airtight — and run on any other game it fails at the step that does the work.
Outcomes do not add
Knowing who wins each part of a position tells almost nothing about who wins the whole. Counted over every sum of two values born by day two, six of the outcome table's ten entries are settled and four are not — and every settled one is settled by the order rather than by anything about outcomes. Two first-player wins reach all four classes between them.
The rule that makes Go a finite game
A ko is a point in Go where a capture can be recaptured for ever, and every set of rules forbids it. That prohibition is not etiquette or tidiness — it is the hypothesis that puts Go inside the class of games every theorem on this site is about, and removing it removes the values.
Two people, four years apart, one theorem
Roland Sprague proved it in 1935 and Patrick Michael Grundy proved it in 1939, neither knowing of the other. That looks like coincidence until the alternatives are examined — and the rule they both reached turns out to be the only one that can work at all.
Start at the end and work backwards
When play can return to where it started there is no bottom for the recursion to stand on. What replaces it begins at the positions where somebody has already lost and propagates outwards — and the positions it never reaches are exactly the draws. There is no test for a draw, and there does not need to be.
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.
The theorem that names a winner and no move
Strategy stealing proves that the first player wins Hex and wins Chomp, on every board, in about four lines. It exhibits no move, contains nothing a move could be extracted from, and is not going to. The moves have to come from somewhere else, and where they come from runs out almost immediately.
A winning strategy that is a spanning tree
The Shannon switching game was sold in a box in 1960 and solved in 1964, and the solution is not an assertion that somebody wins. It is a property of the graph anybody can check, and the strategy falls straight out of it — whichever link the opponent cuts, take its partner in the other tree.
Turn the board through a right angle
A two-by-four Domineering board is worth something no number can express, and Right is ahead on it. Turn a second board through a right angle, put the two side by side, and the total is exactly zero. Every position has an exact opposite, and that single fact is what makes subtraction — and therefore comparison — possible at all.
The condition the recursion rests on
Not that the moves run out, and not that the options are few. Poker Nim's heaps can grow without bound and it ends; the game called `on` has one option and never does. What every value on this site needs is that no infinite run of moves exists — and there are three separate ways to fail it.
One part that never ends
The game called `on` has one move and it is back to itself. Add anything to it — a star, a point, its own mirror image — and the whole board is drawn. So `off` is exactly the negative of `on` and their sum is not zero, which is the group law failing for a reason that has nothing to do with who is winning.
Three ways to add the same games
A move in exactly one component is a choice, not a law. Move in every component at once and the game is different; move in any set of them and it is different again. The same two positions, added three ways, give three different answers — and only one of the three has values that add.
The game that is a number system
In Sylver Coinage two players name integers and nobody may name a sum of what has already been named. Its positions are not boards — they are numerical semigroups, its termination is a theorem of Sylvester's from 1884, and the question of who wins after the opening move 16 has been worth a thousand dollars since 2017.
Misère play has no negatives
Put a position beside its own mirror image and answer every move with the mirror move. Under normal play the answerer wins and the sum is worth zero. Under misère the answerer still has every reply and loses because of it — so there is no zero, no subtraction, and no comparison, which is why the misère theory had to be rebuilt rather than adjusted.
The notation was the argument
Up, star and the brace form are not abbreviations for case analyses. They are the claim that these objects add — and the arithmetic they support is arithmetic that no table of outcomes could ever produce, because two positions with identical outcomes can have different sums.
A pawn ending is a sum
In a blocked pawn ending the material is level, the files never speak to each other, and whoever has to move is the one in trouble. Chess calls that mutual zugzwang; this site calls it a P-position; and the two vocabularies were built four decades and one subject apart to say the same thing.
"Hopeless" was a claim about a method
Misère analysis was declared intractable in the 1970s, and the verdict was correct about what was being attempted. Quotients did not refute it thirty years later — they changed the question from a value per position to a monoid per universe, and the computed sizes show why the first question has no good answer.
Tame and wild
The genus is a Grundy value with a tail — the misère values of the position with 0, 1, 2, … heaps of ∗2 added — and a game is tame when its symbols are the ones Nim heaps have. Computed here for seven games over heaps 1 to 14: Kayles goes wild at heap 5, Dawson's chess at heap 9, the octal game ·6 at heap 7, and heaps 3 and 11 of Dawson's chess are both worth ∗2 under normal play with only one of them tame.
Where the impartial theory stops
Sprague–Grundy gives every impartial position one number, and the number is complete. The moment the two players have different moves no number works at all — not a harder one to compute, none — and three positions here are compared against every nimber to show it.
A conjecture from hand play
Sprouts was invented over tea and its outcome pattern was guessed from games played with a pencil. Computers have checked it far past where a person could go, and this site's own solver gives out at three spots — so the honest figure states the frontier it reaches rather than the number somebody else published.
Independence is a claim
Splitting a position into parts and adding the values is the whole method of this subject, and the splitting step is a claim about the position rather than a fact about the drawing. Where it is false the two answers differ — and the failures that matter are the ones that keep the same winner and change the value, because nothing reports those.
Two misère outcomes are not enough
Knowing who wins each part does not say who wins the sum. Over 676 sums built from a pool of twenty-six positions, nine of the sixteen pairs of outcome classes settle the answer under normal play and not one of the sixteen settles it under misère — and the nine that work are theorems about a value being zero, which is exactly the thing misère play does not have.
A move that must be answered
Every argument on this site about sums assumes the parts are independent: a move in one leaves the others alone, and the reply may go anywhere. Top Entails denies it — take the top coin of a heap and the opponent must answer in that heap. The nim-sum then misreads 9 of 36 two-heap positions, and two heaps of two coins are a first-player win, which no impartial game the theory covers can be.
Confused is not the same as unknown
Two positions can be neither greater, nor smaller, nor equal. That is a fourth relation with its own symbol, it is a fact about the pair rather than a limit of the method, and it is what makes a game worth playing — a position is a first-player win exactly when it is confused with zero.
The strip nobody has a formula for
Some toads, a gap, some frogs. Two counts and a spacing is the whole description, and the values that come out of it are integers, stars, switches with eighth-point options and a down — four classes inside one two-parameter family, which is why nobody has written the formula.
When a real board falls apart
Amazons is played competitively, and late in a game the arrows have cut the board into regions no piece can cross. From that moment the position is a disjunctive sum — arrived at by the play rather than assumed — and the territory count every program uses can be measured against what the sum is actually worth.
What a value leaves out
A value settles who wins, by how much, and what happens in every sum the position appears in. It says nothing about when. Seven positions here are worth exactly zero and interchangeable everywhere, and they run from two moves long to eighteen.
When never ending is a win
Retrograde analysis labels a position a win when somebody can force the opponent to be stuck, and leaves everything else blank. Calling the blanks draws is a rule from outside the game — and two other rules are available. The labelling does not change under any of them; only the residue does, and on a three-cycle that residue is every position on the board.
Equal in every company
Two games are equal when no third game can tell them apart — a quantifier over every position there is, discharged by one finite test. A search over 184 contexts separates all 5,790 unequal pairs it is handed and still calls two different games the same, which is exactly why G − H = 0 is a theorem and an exhaustive search is not.
What a tame heap may be replaced by
Calling a heap tame is only worth anything because a tame heap can be swapped for a Nim position with the same genus in any misère sum. The swap is not always a single heap: Kayles' heap of eight is worth ∗ under normal play and carries the genus of 2 + 3, and substituting ∗ instead gets three of the twenty-eight Kayles pairs wrong.
Where the fight stops
Keep taking the biggest thing on offer until somebody is left facing a number, and the number reached is a stop. Every position has two of them, one for each player moving first, and between them they say how a fight ends — except for the part of it no number can reach.
The one outcome that adds
Finite outcomes do not add: two first-player wins can sum to anything. Loopy play has seven outcome classes instead of four and adds even less — of the 28 cells in the table, eleven hold several answers. Two do not, and they are the two worth having: a second-player win added to anything leaves the outcome alone, and a draw added to a draw is a draw. A draw added to anything else is not.
The values of every small board
Thirty Domineering rectangles, every value computed from the moves rather than looked up. The 1×n row obeys a formula and the 2×n row does not: its outcomes run L N N R three times over and then 2×13 comes out worth exactly 0, and its temperatures climb to 19/16 and fall back without settling.
A token on a graph
Geography is an impartial game whose position is a vertex and a history, so a ten-vertex graph has ten thousand states rather than ten. Take the arrows off and the same game is decided by a maximum matching — first player wins exactly when every maximum matching covers the start, verified on 41 vertices across eight graphs. One word in the rules separates a polynomial criterion from a PSPACE-complete problem.
The values that are their own negatives
Every game satisfies G + (−G) = 0, so a game equal to its own negative satisfies G + G = 0 — it has order two in a group whose elements otherwise have infinite order. The nimbers do. So does ±1, on sight. Over the 1,474 values born by day three there are 30 of them and only four are nimbers, every one of the 900 sums of two is another, and the equality test and a symmetry of the written form agree 1,474 times out of 1,474.
Three players and no answer
Every theorem here is about two players, and the reason is not convenience. With two players the game is zero-sum, so 'play well' needs no further explanation. Add a third and the winner of a Nim position becomes a fact about the convention: two reasonable ones disagree on 56 of the 71 positions swept. The one question no convention touches — can a player force a win against the other two together — is answered 'nobody' in 65 of the 71.
Knowing who wins, and knowing what it is worth
Deciding a winner expands positions. Computing a canonical form expands pairs of positions, because a comparison unfolds as a recursion over one subposition of each and the reduction makes many comparisons. Measured on the same nine positions by an evaluator that starts empty every time, the second costs between 1.3 and 279 times the first, and the ratio grows with the tree.
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.
Taking from the ends
End-Nim is Nim's board with a player at each end, and it takes one sentence to state. Not one of its 5,460 small positions is worth a non-zero number — the game is all-small, so zero is the only number any of them can reach — and there are 2,693 distinct values between them. The outcome says a great deal more: 4,738 of those positions are won by the same player whoever moves, and on two heaps the rule is that the larger end wins.
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.
What a number does to a fight
Adding a number to a position moves everything and changes nothing: over three thousand translations the temperature never once shifted and both stops moved by exactly the number added, every time. What the number decides is whether the fight is worth having — and the interval where the two players are confused is exactly the open interval between the negated stops, right in all 2,890 cases away from its endpoints and wrong in 110 that are all on them.
When a switch is not a switch
A position {a | b} with numbers on both sides is a fight only while a is above b. Sweeping the boundary with a fixed at 2 and b climbing from −2 to 3 turns up three regimes rather than the two the definition suggests: eight fights whose temperature is exactly half the gap, one position at a = b that is 2∗ and is not a number, and beyond that numbers chosen by the simplicity rule — which on 8 of 12 sampled cases is not the midpoint.
How rare it is to be bigger
Values are partially ordered, and 'partially' does most of the work. On day two, 179 of 231 pairs can be compared and 13 of the 22 values can be compared with zero. One day later the shares are 60% and 29%, and the largest set of mutually incomparable values found rises from four to at least twenty-three. Comparison is the exception; confusion is what values normally do to one another.
One row of Clobber
Every string of blue, red and empty squares up to eight long — 9,840 rows — carries one of only 111 values, and every one of them is infinitesimal. A third of the rows are worth exactly zero. Six alternating stones are worth zero and eight are worth a form that takes four lines to print, so the values do not simplify as the row grows: they explode, while the row stays trivial to describe.
The fight never runs backwards
Left's stop is never below Right's — in every one of 1,780 distinct values, computed twice by two independently written routes, with nothing that disagreed anywhere. The inequality is what makes a mean value well defined and a fight a fight; and where it collapses to equality, 433 of the 460 cold positions turn out not to be numbers at all.
Equal in this company
Equality quantifies over every game there is, and the quantifier can be made smaller. Restricted to a company of nine numbers, the twenty-two values born by day two collapse to seventeen; restricted to four games — nought, one, minus one and star — they stay twenty-two, and no three of the four will do. The company that decides equality is tiny, and it has to contain a star.
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.
Two players, two lists
Give each player their own list of how many counters they may take and the impartial theory stops applying. What survives is the outcome: it settles into a repeat, for every pair of lists, and that is a theorem. What does not survive is the value — on four of six pairs swept it has no repeat inside sixty heaps, and the birthdays are still climbing at the edge of the window.
How long it lasts
Move in every component at once and the game ends the moment any one of them does. Grundy values say nothing about that game; what decides it is the remoteness, a second number computed from the same tree that measures how long a component can be made to last. Over 2,268 positions the rule is right every time, and the two numbers determine each other in neither direction.
Nobody wants to move here
A position is a number exactly when every move loses ground for the player making it. The test never mentions numbers, it disagrees with the ordinary one on none of the 1,474 values born by day three — and the reason a position fails it is not that somebody wants to move. It is that somebody cannot afford to wait.
The genus of a sum
A genus symbol is meant to be carried one per heap, so that a solver never has to look at the heap again. That is a claim that the pair of symbols determines the sum's, and across nine games and 405 pairs it holds without exception — while the bases alone determine it in only 38 of 50 cases and the superscripts alone in 70 of 74. Both halves of the symbol are load-bearing, and two wild heaps can add to a tame sum.
Topple it from either end
A row of blue and red is the picture this site opens with, and under Hackenbush's rules it is always a number. Knock the pieces over instead of cutting them — everything on the chosen side falls — and 480 of the 510 rows up to eight pieces stop being numbers. The two games agree on sixteen rows, every one of a single colour, and the temperature of the hottest row climbs by exactly a half for each domino added.
What an infinitesimal does to a fight
Adding a number moves both stops by exactly itself. Adding something smaller than every number moves neither — across 10,318 additions to a whole day of values, not once — and the outcome class changes anyway, 2,622 times. It changes at exactly one kind of position: the ones with a stop sitting on zero, which is where the numbers have run out of things to say.
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.
Every group must keep breathing
NoGo is Go with no captures at all: a stone may be placed only if, afterwards, every group on the board still has a liberty. That makes a move's legality a fact about the whole board rather than about the squares it occupies — and a board therefore almost never breaks into independent parts. Of 117 boards here whose empty points fall into two regions, 24 are the sum of their regions and 93 are not.
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.
Nobody comes back
There is a class of games in which running out of moves is permanent, and it is the setting almost every modern misère result is stated in. Nine of this site's eleven rulesets belong to it across 5,334 positions; the two that do not are Toads and Frogs and Amazons, and Toads and Frogs loses the property to a single clause — delete the hop and it joins the list.
What a wider pool rescues
The misère outcome table has sixteen cells, and over a pool of ten positions fifteen of them hold fewer than four outcomes — which looks like structure and might be a shortage of positions. Thirteen values further on there is nothing left: every pair of outcome classes takes every outcome, so the near-misses were the pool, and the prediction the rung below made was right.
A sequence with a rule and no period
The values of the subtraction game where Left takes one or two and Right takes one or three never repeat — thirty-one heaps, thirty-one different values. They are nonetheless completely described: three seeds and the rule v(k + 3) = {0 | v(k)} generate every one of them, which is what a pattern without a period looks like.
The number nobody needs
The compound theory carries a third quantity — the suspense number — computed by the remoteness recursion with both preferences reversed, for the compound that stops as soon as any component stops. It governs that compound correctly. So does remoteness, so does the plain Grundy value, and the shortening does not change the winner on any of 1,176 positions.
How hot a background has to be
The reduced canonical form throws away infinitesimals, and the rung below asked for a bound: how hot must the rest of the board be for the discarded part not to matter? There is no such bound. Safety is not monotone in the background's temperature — an eighth is safe, a quarter is not, two is safe again — and the quantity that does decide it is not a temperature but a stop.
Where the nimbers run out
A single End-Nim heap is a Nim heap and every palindromic row is worth a nimber, so the impartial theory looks as though it might get a long way into a partizan game. It gets one row in thirteen. Five nimbers occur in five and a half thousand rows, the palindromes account for two fifths of them, and the rows worth something else run to 2,693 distinct values.
The patch that generalised
Misère Nim takes a one-line patch: play the normal-play strategy until every heap holds a single counter, then invert. Moore's Nim, where a move may take from up to k heaps at once, takes exactly the same patch with exactly the same modulus — and the two rules disagree on six positions out of 923.
The rule the symbols follow
Two genus symbols make a third by three lines and no lookup table: the base exclusive-ors, the sum is fickle only when every component is, and the symbol follows. Checked on 252 pairs across nine games it is right on 238 — and the fourteen failures are exactly the fourteen pairs with a wild heap in them, which is the boundary the genus is defined up to arriving as a measurement.
The question in the middle
Between knowing who wins each part and knowing what each part is worth sits the question a player actually has: who wins the board. Priced on sums of two it lands between the other two on seven of eight, cheaper than the values by up to eight times. On sums of three, with nothing repeated, it is dearer than the values on five of six — because a component multiplies a search and only adds to a value.
Which option the reduction keeps
Domination deletes an option when another is at least as good, so what survives is the top of an order. On a board that order is made of moves, and two descriptions of the surviving move suggest themselves. Over 1,586 Domineering option lists one of them is right 47% of the time and the other 90%, and the one that wins is not the one a player would guess.
The family the Fibonacci numbers belong to
Fibonacci Nim lets a player take at most twice what the last one took, and the heaps the opener loses are the Fibonacci numbers. Two is an arbitrary number. At one the losing heaps are the powers of two, at three and four and five they are four more sequences, each with a linear recurrence whose lag is twice one less than the factor — until the factor is six, where the pattern stops.
What the numerals knew
Every factor in the Fibonacci Nim family gives a numeral system, and the rung below predicted its separation condition would be the lag of the recurrence the losing heaps satisfy. It is not. The gap is the factor — one at c = 1, Zeckendorf's two at c = 2, and c at every factor to eight — while the lag goes 1, 2, 4, 6, 8, 11, 14, 17 and leaves its own pattern at six. The numerals then solve every one of 194,480 states, cap and all.
The rule a smaller move breaks
Moore's Nim lets a player take from at most k heaps, and its winning condition is the binary columns summed modulo k + 1. Cap the amount as well and the obvious repair — reduce each heap modulo the cap plus one, then read the columns — is exact at every cap when k is one and wrong at every cap when k is two or three. The reason is stronger than a broken rule: at k ≥ 2 the residues do not determine the outcome at all, so nothing of that shape can work.
What the class does not buy
Dead-ending is the hypothesis several modern misère results are stated under, and the rung below sorted this site's games into it without running the comparison those results are about. Running it: a quarter to a half of ordered pairs compare inside a ruleset's own universe, which is a great deal — and the ruleset that is not dead-ending sits in the middle of that range. Ten comparisons are lost when a universe is enlarged, and every one is lost to a dead-ending company.
The wider move is the easier game
An earlier essay ruled out every rule that reduces the heaps and reads the residues, and asked for a two-part statistic: the residues plus one more count. Four second parts are tested here and none of them decides. What turns up instead contradicts the premise the request was made under — a move that may reach three heaps is more predictable than one that may reach two, on every cap, every candidate rule, and after the change in the base rate is taken out.
What a strategy has to remember
A value answers who wins and by how much, and it settles neither how many moves achieve it nor whether the best one is unique. Counted over every position reachable inside the catalogue of regions, the gap has a size: 4,269 positions carry 128 values between them, and a player who wants to win rather than to predict has to store 3,308 choices — twenty-six entries for every number the theory supplies.
Wrong in one direction only
The rung below asked for the simplified comparison test the dead-ending hypothesis is supposed to license, and predicted it would agree with the quantifier on the dead-ending rulesets and not on Toads and Frogs. Written three ways and scored on 492 pairs, it agrees best on the ruleset that is not dead-ending — and never once refuses a comparison that holds, which makes it a sound filter and not a test.
A quotient that identifies nothing
The dead-ending class is famous for quotients rather than comparisons, so the matched pair was asked the question its own subject is about. Neither quotient identifies a single pair of positions, and both are separated by exactly five addends — because a quotient is small when its universe is poor, which is a choice of company and not a property of a class.
A floor, and not a decline
Comparability fell eighteen points from day two to day three and the next day cannot be enumerated. It can be built — and the construction's bias measured one day lower, where the truth is known. Corrected, day four comes to 60.6 per cent against day three's 59.7: the fall was a one-day event.
A factor, and not an overhead
Deciding who wins a form searches the form's own tree. Reducing it to canonical form searches a difference game for every comparison, and a difference game is a sum. Over 256 forms the reduction expands 5.46 times as many positions — and the ratio runs from 0.58 at one option to 9.80 at eight.
A parity with a first exception
Sort every Sylver Coinage position by how many numbers are still unnameable and the game very nearly falls to parity: odd rows are between a fifth and a half positions the mover loses, and the first three even rows hold none at all. The rule has a first counterexample at genus eight, where it is a single position out of sixty-seven, and eleven more at genus ten. It is a tendency wearing away from both ends rather than a law with exceptions.
What computing further has bought
Sprouts has been searched harder and longer than almost any game, and the period-six pattern has survived every extension. This site's own exhaustive search settles three spots; the published results reach forty-seven, and the gap is not a gap in hardware — the gentler of the two measured growth factors puts forty-seven spots at ten to the hundred and twenty-fifth positions. Beside it sits Brussels Sprouts, which has five million positions holding a choice and not one choice that changes who wins.
What has to break before a pawn is worth a number
Every value the blocked-file model can hold is an infinitesimal, and the reason is one sentence about the move rule rather than anything about pawns. Break that sentence — a pawn stuck behind a friend, a square only one side can hold — and integers, switches and positions worth fighting over arrive at once.
One king, and two files to be in
The whole apparatus needs the files to be independent, and a king is what makes them not. With the kings unable to move the sum of the parts is exact on every configuration; give each king a single waiting move and the sum names the wrong winner on one configuration in six, and on a hundred and twenty-six of two hundred and forty-three with three files.
A position with no value, and the rule that gives it one
A fortress is a cycle in the position graph, so the recursion defining a value has nowhere to bottom out and the propagation never reaches it. Chess has a rule for that — count fifty moves and call it drawn — and the rule does not merely tidy the theory up. On eleven cells of the sweep it takes away a win.
A ko is won somewhere else
The rung below shows the ko rule buying finiteness by deleting one edge. What it buys with the same edge is a fight nobody can settle by looking at it — the prohibition forces a player to spend a threat, threats are counted on the rest of the board, and every decided cell of the sweep goes to whoever is ahead on a quantity that is not in the picture.
Two ways to count a finished board
Territory scoring and area scoring are both in daily use and they are not variants of one rule. Over seventy-nine small endgames they agree exactly on the thirty-nine with an even number of neutral points and on none of the forty with an odd number — sixteen name a different winner, and twelve are played differently, which is not something a convention is supposed to do.
The second dimension is not the deep end
The rung below says a row of eight reaches every corner of the vocabulary and goes far into none of them, and that the narrowness is a fact about the board. So the obvious next move is a rectangle — and nine squares in a square hold twenty-five values where nine squares in a line hold fifty-eight. The geometry says why before any stone is placed.
The two moves that are not captures
Kōnane begins from a full board and the first two moves lift stones rather than take them, which is the only time in the whole game anybody does. Nothing on this site applies to them, and the choice is not free — on a 3 × 5 board two of Black's eight openings leave a position a whole move worse than the other six, and on a 3 × 3 board none of the five does.
The paper was about how long
Zermelo's 1913 paper is remembered for a theorem it proves in passing. The question it actually asks is how many moves a forced win takes, the answer it can prove is the size of the whole position graph, and the round counter in the procedure is the real answer — a quantity nobody named for another forty years.
The gap between two answers
A draw is usually described as what the backward labelling never reached, which makes it sound like a shortfall of the algorithm. Written as one predicate the winning condition is an equation, the equation is monotone, and it has a least solution and a greatest one — and the set the two disagree about is exactly the drawn set, on every game checked.
What two numbers cannot tell apart
A thermograph summarises a position in a mean and a temperature — nine characters against the brace form's twenty-two, and readable in a way the expression is not. It is also not exact: 1,454 of the 1,474 games born by day three share a pair with some other game, 291 of them share one pair, and adding a star to two of those gives different winners.
The first move is a link that is not there
Lehman's criterion answers one question about a switching game — who wins when Short moves second. The other question has the same answer asked of a different graph: add one link from A to B, and Cut is forced to spend its first move deleting it. The trees of that larger graph then name Short's opening, and on every subgraph of seven graphs they name a winner.
What the play keeps coming back to
A draw is what the backward labelling never reaches, and handing every never-ending play to one player turns the draws into wins wholesale. Judge an infinite play instead by what it keeps returning to, and every draw gets a winner of its own: over the 262,144 three-node games, 15,432 send some of their draws to one player and some to the other, which no wholesale rule can do. Finding those winners takes a fixed point inside a fixed point.
A loop is written with two names
A region with a cycle in it has no brace expression, and every one of the 256 regions of two positions can be written anyway — as two names, the game it is when a play that never ends goes to Left and the game it is when it goes to Right. Checked against all 1,474 values born by day three, ten names cover every side, 25 regions need only finite ones, and the pair predicts every sum with a finite game, draws included: a draw arrives exactly where the two names disagree.
Eleven moves and one decision
A prefix has one quantifier a turn, so a game of eleven moves is eleven alternations. Counted on the boards themselves, a Toads and Frogs strip of eleven moves has twenty-six turns with exactly one move available and one turn anywhere at which the choice changes the answer; a Clobber board has a hundred and fourteen turns and none. Nim, the game everybody calls solved, decides at four turns in five.
Proving a loss means answering everything
A win is established by one move and a loss by every move, so the two verdicts are certified by objects of different shapes. Measured over every position of four games, a loss costs between 1.07 and 2.31 times a win — a small constant, never an exponential. The obvious explanation is the branching and it is wrong: Nim answers six options at a losing turn and pays 2.18, not six.
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.
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.
Left always wins, and loses more often than not
Alternating play answers with one of four classes and the coin answers with a chance, and the two do not have to agree. Over the twenty-two values born by day two they never disagree and the margin is exactly nothing — the lowest chance on a position Left wins whoever moves is a half. Over the 1,474 born by day three, seven of them sit at seven sixteenths, and seven mirror them on the other side.
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.
The coldest position has the biggest swing
How much a flip is worth is the gap between the coin's two branches, and it is a rival to the temperature — both answer how much is at stake. They disagree at once: the empty position has the lowest temperature there is and a swing of one, twice the hottest thing born on day two. On the small pool the two quantities look like a perfect three-way correspondence, and 255 of day three's values break it.
The best chance is the wrong move
Maximising a probability and denying an opponent a reply are different objectives, and on 189 of the 904 day-three positions where Left has a choice and a winning move, the option the coin prefers is one that loses the alternating game outright. The smallest case is two options and one line of arithmetic: five eighths beats a half, and a half is the move that wins.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Exhaustive searchNormal playDisjunctive sumComparisonCanonical formStar (∗)EnumerationImpartialCounterexamplePartizanInfinitesimalGrundy value