Imagine dropping a hundred small robots into a room littered with coloured cubes, spheres and pyramids. No robot is in charge. None of them was handed a dictionary. Yet after a while, every robot is using the exact same words to talk about “the red cube” or “the high-quality blue sphere” — and they can even build the second phrase out of the words for the first.
How does a shared, structured language appear out of nothing? That is the question behind our paper, Cultural evolution of perceptually grounded compositional lexicons in swarm robotics systems. Below I’ll walk through the whole idea, stage by stage, and you can run a simplified version of the entire system live.
The problem: a language with no teacher
Each robot only ever sees its own little patch of the world, through noisy sensors. Its internal notion of “red” is private — a pattern of numbers that is slightly different from every other robot’s. There is no central server dispensing a vocabulary, and no human labelling anything. So how can a shared set of words — a lexicon — emerge, and how can those words mean anything at all?
This is a concrete instance of the Symbol Grounding Problem (Harnad, 1990): a symbol like a word must ultimately be tied to real sensory experience, not float around as an abstract token defined only by other tokens. Harnad argued that grounding a symbol requires three steps, and the paper implements all three:
- Iconisation — turning raw analogue sensor signals into a stable internal snapshot.
- Discrimination — deciding whether two snapshots are “the same thing” or genuinely different.
- Identification — attaching a symbol (a meaning, and eventually a word) to a snapshot.
To keep meanings and words separate, every concept is modelled as a semiotic triad of three things:
- a referent — the actual object out in the world;
- a meaning — the robot’s private, internal representation of it;
- a form — the spoken word, and the only part that is ever shared between robots.
The distinction matters enormously in a crowd. Two robots can happily use the same form wexewi for blue while each holding a slightly different private meaning of blue. Agreement only has to happen on the forms; the meanings are allowed to stay private and divergent forever. That is what makes the whole thing tractable at the scale of a swarm.
Stage 1 — Sensing and discrimination
When a robot gets close to an object it takes a noisy reading. In the paper the reading is a feature vector
— three numbers for colour, three for how cube-/sphere-/pyramid-like the object looks, and a quality score (how “perfect” the object is). Two robots looking at the same object from different angles get different vectors, and the same robot gets different vectors for two “identical” objects. Nothing is labelled.
So each robot has to carve its own noisy sensory space into regions on the fly, using a discrimination game. It keeps a set of prototypes — representative points, one per region. When a new reading arrives, the robot finds its closest prototype . If nothing is close enough (the distance exceeds a threshold ) it decides “this is something new” and stores a fresh prototype; otherwise it nudges the matching prototype toward the reading:
Repeated over thousands of encounters, this pulls each prototype toward an invariant representation of a real property — one stable “red,” one stable “cube,” despite all the sensor noise. This is iconisation and discrimination in action.
Stage 2 — Meanings and the meaning space
Discrimination gives a robot stable prototypes; identification turns each prototype into a meaning — a point in an internal meaning space . This mapping is private: when a robot learns a new prototype it simply drops the meaning at a random point on the appropriate axis of . Crucially, the space has one dimension per sensory channel (colour, shape, quality), so a meaning grounded on a colour lives on the colour axis, a shape on the shape axis, and so on.
This geometry is what later makes composition almost free: the meaning of “blue sphere” is defined to be the vector sum of its parts,
so “blue sphere” sits at the intersection of the “blue” row and the “sphere” column. And because it’s a sum, the robot can decompose too: subtract the “sphere” meaning from “blue sphere” and you recover “blue.”
Stage 3 — Compositionality by Hebbian learning
How does a robot decide to build “blue sphere” in the first place? Through Hebbian learning — the old neuroscience slogan “cells that fire together wire together.”
Every meaning carries a short-term activity trace : it spikes to 1 when the robot is currently perceiving that thing and decays otherwise. Between every pair of meanings there is a slowly-changing association weight that grows when both are active at once and decays otherwise:
When a robot repeatedly sees blue and sphere together, climbs past a threshold and the robot mints a new composed meaning and a new word for it. All of these associations live in a Meaning Association Network (MAN): elementary meanings are input nodes, and each composed meaning is a node with exactly two parents. Composition cascades — once “blue sphere” exists, seeing a high-quality blue sphere can associate “blue sphere” with “high quality” to build the three-part concept “high-quality blue sphere.” Deeper meanings inherit the grounding of the shallower ones.
Stage 4 — Cultural evolution through language games
Grounding gives each robot its own private meanings and its own invented words. The final ingredient makes the words agree across the swarm: a language game, specifically a naming game. Two robots can only play if they are close (communication is local, ~1 m). One is speaker, one is hearer:
- The speaker picks a concept it knows and says its word. For an elementary word it also transmits the prototype so the hearer knows which thing is being named (joint attention). For a composed word it transmits the two parent words too, — effectively teaching the new word by its definition.
- If the hearer already uses that word → success: both drop their competing synonyms and keep the shared one.
- If not → the hearer adds it. (A composed word is only accepted if the hearer already knows both parent words — you can’t learn “blue sphere” before “blue” and “sphere.”)
Repeat these tiny local interactions, with nobody coordinating, and the whole swarm converges — first on the elementary words, then, once that base is solid, on the composed ones.
Run the whole thing
The simulation below runs this entire pipeline in your browser. To keep it readable it recreates the paper’s Experiment 1: three object types — a low-quality red cube, a high-quality blue sphere, and a high-quality blue cube — which between them define 6 elementary words (red, blue, cube, sphere, high-Q, low-Q) and 11 composed words, for a target lexicon of 17.
◉ robot (e-puck)■ ● ▲ = cube / sphere / pyramid colour quality (hi / lo)— game · — sensing
There is a lot going on, so here’s what to look for:
- The arena — e-puck-style robots (green-ringed pucks) roam and explore. A faint green line is a robot sensing a nearby object; an amber line is a language game between two robots. Each object shows its colour and shape, with a small quality bar underneath (bright = high, dim = low) — quality is a third sensed dimension, exactly as in the paper.
- Vocabulary size — the paper’s signature curve. Early on every robot invents its own word for each concept, so the number of distinct words overshoots; then naming games prune the synonyms and it collapses back toward the true 17. Composed words (blue) grow only after a base of elementary words (green) exists — you can watch the two curves take off in sequence.
- Lexicon sharing score — the average vocabulary overlap between every pair of robots, climbing toward 1 (perfect agreement). This is the paper’s LSS.
- The inspected robot (dashed amber ring) — its Meaning Association Network, laid out in three columns by composition depth: elementary meanings (green) → two-part composed (orange) → three-part composed like high-Q blue cube (red), with edges from every composed node to its two parents and the agreed word on each. Press ▸ next robot to inspect a different one — because meanings are private, robots are often at different stages. The full lexicon is listed below it.
Drag the sliders to change the crowd size, how far robots can “hear,” or how fast they interact.
Measuring success
Two numbers summarise a run. The Lexicon Sharing Score averages the vocabulary overlap (Jaccard similarity) across every pair of robots:
and reaches 1 when everyone uses exactly the same words. A companion Compositionality Sharing Score checks that robots agree not just on words but on the recipes — that they build “blue sphere” from the same parents. Tracking the total lexicon size , split into elementary and composed , reveals the overshoot-and-collapse you see in the plot.
Does it scale?
Yes — which is the whole point of a swarm. In the paper, agreement holds from 10 up to 100 robots, converging on a lexicon of 26 words (Experiment 2, five object types), with only graceful degradation: average LSS stays around 0.99, 0.95 and 0.92 for 50, 75 and 100 robots, at the cost of somewhat longer convergence times. Most of the residual disagreement is in the composed words, which need the elementary base to settle first.
It is also robust. When a quarter of the robots have a faulty colour sensor that sees red as purple, the swarm simply grows an extra “purple” word and its compositions — and sharing among the healthy robots doesn’t break. Likewise when odd, in-between shapes are added. The agreement is an emergent property of the interaction, not a fragile hand-tuned artefact.
Why I find this exciting
Most communication in swarm robotics is bare signalling — a robot flashes a light to trigger a behaviour, and the “meaning” lives entirely in the designer’s head. This work pushes toward something closer to language: grounded in real perception, compositional, and negotiated from the bottom up, with no dictionary written in advance. It’s the thread running through all my research — rich global structure emerging from simple local rules — aimed here at how meaning itself might emerge in a machine collective. One day, a search-and-rescue swarm could invent, on the fly, the words it needs to tell its teammates exactly what it found and where.
Read the full paper: R. Sendra-Arranz & Á. Gutiérrez, Cultural evolution of perceptually grounded compositional lexicons in swarm robotics systems, Applied Soft Computing (2026) — doi:10.1016/j.asoc.2026.115879.