T. Zhang

In a courtroom, there isn't always a video recording of the crime. Sometimes the verdict is based on witness testimony: what happened before, what happened after. That's exactly how physicists treated the signal GW250114, detected on January 14, 2025.

A dark matter detector is like a room where you're trying to hear a whisper while static electricity crackles nearby. This crackle is produced by radon atoms — a radioactive gas that seeps out from materials and air.

After a supernova explosion, a neutron star neutron star remains: a city-sized ball of unimaginably dense matter, spinning hundreds of times per second. Any tiny bump on its surface would make it wobble like an off-balance spinning top, humming faintly through the fabric of space.

Underground, in a former gold mine, sits a tank of liquid xenon. If a dark matter particle flies through it, the xenon flashes. But it also flashes from ordinary particles, like neutrinos or leftover radioactivity. The task is to tell which flash comes from dark matter and which from noise.

LIGO, Virgo, and KAGRA detectors act like giant microphones, listening in on gravitational waves — vibrations of space itself. The new GWTC-5.0 catalog recorded 161 black hole mergers, bringing the total count to 390 events.

Imagine a giant inflatable balloon with galaxies painted on it. As it inflates, the pattern stretches and neighboring dots move apart. The rate of that stretching is the Hubble constant. Astronomers usually catch light from distant stars and see how much it has reddened due to the stretching of space.

In an oven, a huge loaf of bread is baking. Inside the dough, there is a tiny, hottest spot: that's where the future loaf begins to rise. A hot molecular core (a region the size of the Solar System, where gas is heated to hundreds of degrees and compressed to billions of times the density of ordinary clouds) works in much the same way.

A huge bowl of water. Drop a stone into it — ripples spread across the surface. The fabric of spacetime works much the same way: when two massive stars merge, they create ripples — gravitational waves. These waves travel to Earth and are picked up by giant detectors like LIGO and Virgo.

Gravitational-wave detectors are like extremely sensitive ears: they pick up the trembling of space when black holes or neutron stars collide somewhere in the universe. But even the most sophisticated "ears" cannot hear everything. The new LIGO A# project is like replacing the eardrum with a thinner, more sensitive membrane.