Variants and other worlds
There are 2²⁰ = 262,144 Life-like rules on the square grid. Conway found one of the good ones. Here are the others worth your time - and the automata that abandon the grid altogether.
Life-like rules
A rule is "Life-like" if it uses the same board as Life - two states, square grid, Moore neighbourhood - and differs only in which neighbour counts cause birth and survival. Every rule in this table can be run in the Lab: pick it from the Rules panel, or type the rule string directly.
| Rule | Name | Character |
|---|---|---|
| B3/S23 | Life | The reference point. Sparse, structured, computationally universal. |
| B36/S23 | HighLife | Life plus birth on six neighbours. Behaves almost identically to Life until you notice it contains a small self-replicating pattern - something Life needed decades of engineering to achieve. |
| B3678/S34678 | Day & Night | Symmetric under exchanging live and dead cells: a pattern and its photographic negative behave the same way. Supports spaceships and guns in both "day" and "night" phases. |
| B2/S | Seeds | No cell ever survives. Every generation is entirely new. Almost everything explodes; nothing stands still. |
| B1357/S1357 | Replicator | Fredkin's replicating rule. Any starting pattern produces copies of itself, in a fractal arrangement, forever. |
| B3/S12345 | Maze | Grows dense corridor structures from any seed. B3/S1234 ("Mazectric") gives longer, straighter passages. |
| B3/S012345678 | Life without Death | Cells never die. Growth resembles ivy or coral, and the rule supports "ladders" that grow indefinitely. |
| B35678/S5678 | Diamoeba | Large amoeba-like blobs with constantly wobbling boundaries. Whether a pattern survives is genuinely hard to predict. |
| B36/S125 | 2x2 | Blocks of four cells behave like single cells of a coarser automaton, giving the rule a distinctive chunky texture. |
| B4678/S35678 | Anneal | A majority-style voting rule. Noise coarsens into large domains with smoothing boundaries - a good model of physical annealing. |
| B1/S12 | Gnarl | One live neighbour is enough for birth, so a single cell explodes into intricate filigree. |
| B368/S245 | Move | Unusually rich in spaceships. Soups drift and travel instead of settling in place. |
| B234/S | Serviettes | Produces expanding Persian-rug patterns of startling regularity from any seed. |
Changing the board
The bigger jumps come from changing something other than the digit list.
Different neighbourhoods
The von Neumann neighbourhood uses only the four edge-adjacent cells, which produces diamond-shaped growth instead of square. Larger than Life extends the radius to 5, 10 or more cells and replaces the digit lists with numeric ranges; as the radius grows, the behaviour converges on continuous automata. Hexagonal lattices give each cell six neighbours and remove the awkward distinction between edge and corner adjacency entirely.
More states
Generations rules add a decay chain: a dying cell passes through several intermediate states before becoming empty, which produces trails and travelling waves. Brian's Brain is the minimal case - three states, one refractory generation - and it produces a world where almost nothing stands still. Try Brian's Brain.
Purpose-built automata
WireWorld was designed backwards from the intended result. Its four states - empty, copper wire, electron head, electron tail - and its one interesting rule (wire becomes a head if exactly one or two neighbours are heads) were chosen to make electronics easy to build rather than to be mathematically minimal. It works: people have built adders, displays and a prime-number sieve. Try WireWorld.
Agents instead of fields
Langton's Ant and the wider family of turmites put a moving read-write head on the grid rather than updating everything at once. With two colours and the turn sequence RL you get the famous highway. Other turn strings produce symmetric growths, spirals, or chaos that never resolves. Try Langton's Ant.
Giving the grid a state of its own
Every variation above changes the cells. A less-explored move is to give the squares a state that the cells depend on. Antiot's Field - a rule written for this site rather than taken from the literature - does exactly that: each square holds a quantity of fertility, a living cell grazes the square beneath it every generation, and empty squares recover slowly. Birth requires fertile ground as well as the right neighbour count.
The consequence is that a still life eats its own patch and starves, and so does an oscillator, because it keeps returning to the same squares. Only patterns that travel reach fresh ground indefinitely. Run a random soup under it for ten thousand generations and the population falls from around seven thousand cells to exactly ten: two gliders, and nothing else at all. Run Antiot's Field.
Continuous automata
SmoothLife (Stephan Rafler, 2011) generalises Life to continuous space, continuous time and continuous states, replacing the neighbour count with an integral over a ring-shaped kernel. The gliders survive the transition, arriving as smooth blobs that slide rather than step.
Lenia (Bert Wang-Chak Chan, 2019) pushes this further with arbitrary kernels and growth functions, and has yielded hundreds of distinct self-organising "species" - things that swim, rotate, split and repair themselves. Later work made the whole system differentiable, so the rules themselves can be learned by gradient descent. Neural cellular automata take that to its conclusion: a small neural network as the transition rule, trained so that a pattern grows into a target image and regenerates when damaged.
More dimensions
Three-dimensional Life-like rules exist - Carter Bays established a framework in the 1980s and found rules such as 5766 that support gliders in 3D. They are harder to look at than to define, which is largely why they have received less attention.
Why bother with variants
Partly for the same reason people climb hills. But the survey also makes a real
point: Life's richness is not an accident of B3/S23 alone, nor is it
common. Most of the 262,144 Life-like rules produce either a dead board or grey
mush within a hundred generations. Only a thin band produces anything worth
watching, and that band is exactly the one where local structures can persist and
interact. Complexity is rare, but it is not unique - and every rule in that band
produces its own zoo, with its own gliders, its own still lifes, and its own
community of people cataloguing them.