Astronomers have checked whether the motion of hot spots near Sagittarius A* can tell a black hole from a boson star—a hypothetical object made of ultralight scalar particles. Using Bayesian analysis of infrared flares, they compared 12 boson star models with a non-rotating black hole. The result: the data doesn't yet allow a clear choice—both options explain the observations with almost equal probability, and the mass of the central body (~4.3 million solar masses) remains the same. It’s like trying to tell a glass marble from a steel one by ear if both roll with the same sound.
The cosmos is full of mimicry. The clearwing moth wears a wasp's mask, a harmless fly buzzes like a bee. And in the world of gravity, the role of impersonator is perhaps played by boson stars — colossal clumps of scalar field, indistinguishable from black holes. No event horizon, no singularity: just pure gravity, bending light exactly like a perfectly dark funnel of no return. And now, Bayesian analysis of flares from the most mysterious object in the center of the Milky Way shows: telling one from the other with current data is almost impossible. In the heart of our Galaxy, there might lurk not a voracious hole, but a giant ghost made of dark matter particles.
The camouflage tactic here is not an evolutionary trick, but a mathematical inevitability: the field equations allow solutions almost indistinguishable from Schwarzschild's. The 'atmosphere' of a boson star, layer by layer held by its own gravity, creates a gravitational lens — a double of the one prescribed by Schwarzschild. The difference is only a microscopic shift: photons that pass right through the star slightly displace the brightness centroid. The GRAVITY interferometer can catch this shift. Scientists took twelve configurations of boson stars, ran them through ray tracing in their curved spaces, and compared them with real photometric data from flares. The result: the logarithm of the Bayesian factor differs by no more than 0.16 — on the Jeffreys scale, that's not even 'weak distinction,' but a practical coincidence of hypotheses. The object's mass (~4.3×10⁶ M⊙) falls within the confidence interval for all models.
This idea strikes at the foundation. Nearly a century ago, Schwarzschild found the first exact solution of Einstein's equations, and since then black holes were considered the inevitable finale of collapse. John Wheeler gave them their name, and Fritz Zwicky suspected the existence of dark matter. Now these lines converge: the particles forming a boson star — likely axions or other ultralight candidates — naturally explain the hidden mass. If the Galactic center is occupied by such a star, then dark matter is not just smeared across the halo, but collects into dense clouds, merging and emitting gravitational waves accessible to next-generation detectors. The hunt for 'stellar camouflage' becomes a concrete task.
In the coming years, our vision will sharpen. Polarization patterns of hot spots around a horizonless object should noticeably differ from those of a black hole: the backlighting of inner layers will add characteristic swirls. Joint analysis of astrometry and polarimetry will narrow the circle of admissible models, and the acceleration of gravitational-wave surveys will allow statistical separation of the populations of real holes and their horizonless doubles. Then we'll speak of a zoo of compact bodies with varying degrees of mimicry, and Sagittarius A* will cease to be a black box, becoming a laboratory for tests of quantum gravity. For now, it keeps its main ornament — either an absolute horizon, or a superfluid condensate, swaddled in a perfect gravitational haze.
🎯 The radius of a boson star can be just 2.81 times the gravitational radius — practically like a black hole, a difference of a fraction of a percent. But unlike one, passing photons do not disappear, but retain information about the internal structure, as if passing through a transparent dream.