Who wins, and by how much.
Two players, no dice, nothing hidden, and the player who cannot move loses. That is a narrow enough set of rules to be worth exactly — every position has a value, the value is computed rather than estimated, and positions add. These are essays about what comes out of that, one idea at a time, with the arithmetic done rather than asserted.
Start anywhere
the first twelve of 466 — the rest are here
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.
How hard is it
Every theorem on this site stays true at any size. The answers stop being reachable long before the games get interesting — deciding the winner of a generalised board game is PSPACE-complete, and an exact evaluator gives out after a few dozen moves.
Misère play
Change one word — the player who cannot move wins — and the games are identical, the strategies are not, and almost every theorem of the normal-play theory stops being true. It is the cheapest possible modification and the most expensive.
Nim, and the nim-sum
Three heaps of counters, take as many as you like from one of them, and the player who takes the last counter wins. The winning condition is not a search, not a table, and not a heuristic — it is the bitwise exclusive-or of the heap sizes, and it was found in 1901.
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.
The sum is the object
Real positions come apart into independent regions, and a move happens in exactly one of them. That operation — the disjunctive sum — is what the whole theory is built to survive, and it is the reason values exist at all.
What is at stake
Some positions both players are desperate to move in, and some neither player wants to touch. The difference is a number — how much the move is worth — and it turns out to be the most useful single quantity for deciding where to play.
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.
Comparing positions
One position is worth at least another when the second player wins their difference. That is the only definition there is, it is a computation rather than a judgement, and it produces an order in which some pairs are simply not comparable.
Domineering
One player places dominoes vertically, the other horizontally, on a shared grid. The rules take one line, the values are a mess, and that mess is the point — this is what the theory looks like applied to a game nobody designed for 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.
Seven ways in
a flat list of essays stops being navigable somewhere in the low hundreds; these do not
The nine fields
The subject in the order it builds itself: the games where both players have the same moves, then what a position is worth, then what happens when positions are added, and last the places the machinery gives way.
Series
An idea, and the distinct arguments that stand against it, ordered by depth. A field says what an essay is about; a series says what else there is to say about it.
Every object named here
The third axis, after the field and the series: the games, values and theorems themselves, and every essay that touches each one.
The position index
Every position this site draws, with the value the solver computed for it and the essay that argues about it. The corpus, browsable as a corpus.
Figures that play back
The positions small enough to solve completely, where the winner is named before the reader starts and every reply was worked out in advance.
The figure library
Every generator behind the pictures, each one rendered at its defaults, with the essays that instantiate it. The reuse the collection runs on, made visible.
What arrived last
The collection grows in batches and each batch has a shape. This is the most recent one, in the order it was written, for a reader who has been here before.
Threads running through
themes, not chapters
Who moves last
The player unable to move loses. That single convention generates the whole theory, and reversing it — misère play — destroys almost all of it.
One clause decides it
Change a word of the rule and the values change completely. A cliff or a wall, a jump allowed or forbidden, a pass that may or may not end the game — the same board, and nothing in common.
The sum is the object
Real positions break into independent parts that are played at once, and adding them up is what the theory was built to do. The hard step is the splitting, not the addition.
The parts do not decide the whole
Outcomes do not add. Neither do temperatures, atomic weights, misère outcomes or the value of an auction. Which quantities survive being added is the question every method here turns on.
Not every game is a number
Some positions are worth a half or a quarter. Others are worth something no number can express, and the ones that are not numbers are where the subject becomes interesting.
How much is at stake
A position is worth something on average and worth something more to move in first, and the second number is the one a player feels. Temperature is that number, and most of what it measures is not where it is expected.
Small things decide
Infinitesimals are smaller than every positive number and are not zero. In a close game they are the whole margin, which is why the theory bothers with them.
Equal, better, or neither
Two positions can be equal, one can be better, or the pair can be genuinely incomparable — a fourth relation with its own symbol. Deciding which is a search rather than a look, and equality quantifies over every game there is.
The notation is not the position
A brace form, a binary numeral, an octal code and a thermograph are four ways of writing a position down, and each throws something away. Occasionally one of them turns out to be the argument.
A theorem that names no move
Knowing who wins and knowing what to play are different achievements, and the subject is full of results that supply the first and refuse the second. A bound is sometimes all there is.
It depends on the company
Sente, independence, equality, the size of a move and even the winner turn out to be facts about the rest of the board rather than about the position in front of the reader.
It has to end
Every value here is defined by a recursion that needs play to stop. Sometimes that is obvious, sometimes it is a theorem, and sometimes the game ends with nothing bounding when.
The theory runs out
Misère play, scoring, three players and computational hardness each break something essential. Knowing which of them is biting is most of knowing where a game stands.
Play it and lose
The strongest argument this subject can make is to state the winner before the reader starts, and then be right. These are the essays carrying a figure that plays back.
Assertions that reject
Every claim here is given a test it could fail, and the tests that matter are the ones that have failed. These are the essays where a check refused something — a guess, a rival explanation, or the essay's own first draft.
What a search costs
A value is worth what it costs to find. These essays price the search rather than quoting the answer: positions visited, states stored, and the size of the board where the counting stops.