black hole mass

Far away in the constellation Cancer, 3.5 billion light-years from Earth, a pendulum clock is ticking. The pendulum is a secondary black hole orbiting a much more massive primary.

A classical black hole is a bottomless well: everything that falls past the horizon disappears into a point of infinite density. But in loop quantum gravity (one approach to quantum gravity), that point is replaced by a quantum 'bounce'—a sphere of finite size where spacetime doesn't tear but rearranges itself.

A whirlpool gulps down water, but splashes most of it back out. That's roughly how a black hole behaves when too much matter falls onto it. In a new study, astrophysicists ran 32 computer simulations to understand how a black hole's parameters — mass, spin, and "appetite"—control these cosmic fountains.

A black hole is not an eternal vacuum cleaner. Surround it with a non-ideal fluid (matter with internal friction), and the geometry starts to lead a life of its own. The authors of the paper showed that a special geometric flow, the almost η-Ricci–Yamabe soliton, acts like an invisible sculptor.

The event horizon's edge is never calm. Quantum vacuum boils there, and particles sometimes burst out of this foam: that is how Stephen Hawking in 1974 discovered black hole radiation, forever linking gravity with quantum field theory.

Dark matter is invisible to telescopes, but its gravity was revealed half a century ago by Vera Rubin. Since then, physicists have explored dozens of hypotheses, and one of the most elegant is primordial black holes, formed in the first moments after the Big Bang.

At the center of a classical black hole lurks a singularity — a point where the density and curvature of spacetime become infinite. Physics goes silent there.

After the Big Bang, the universe underwent a rapid expansion — inflation, smoothing out the cosmic microwave background and sowing the seeds of galaxies. But at the quantum level, chaotic fluctuations brewed in the inflaton field.

In the first moments after the Big Bang, the universe was filled with a hot, nearly uniform plasma. But in some places, the density could randomly be slightly higher. If such a clump gained critical mass, it collapsed into a black hole: this is how primordial black holes were born.

Waves sort pebbles on a sandy beach. Small stones lie close together, nearly identical in size. Farther from shore, there's a scatter of larger and more varied ones. And right at the waterline, where the surf is strongest, the biggest and most rounded fragments pile up. Nature sorts black holes by mass in much the same way when they merge in pairs.

A swarm of tiny ice balls is scattered across a warm room. Some melt faster, others slower, but when only wet spots remain, they all vanish in the same way: the last drop evaporates according to the same law. This is roughly how primordial black holes behave — hypothetical objects born in the first moments after the big bang.

A black hole is like a pot that slowly boils away. Its surface emits particles, a process known as Hawking radiation. The hotter the pot, the faster it empties. But what if the pot is not ordinary, but has a double bottom — capable of turning into a passage to another place?

Two figure skaters glide on the ice. One is light and cautious, barely rotating. The other is massive and fast, spinning with all its might, and in different directions at that. That's roughly the picture painted by gravitational waves from black hole mergers.

A whirlpool in a river sucks everything in. Now imagine adding an invisible jelly to the water that thickens near the vortex and suddenly vanishes at its edge: that's roughly what a black hole looks like in a new mathematical model.

A black hole is invisible, but it's betrayed by light from superheated matter swirling nearby. That light is like a double agent: on one side of its orbit, it blueshifts as it races toward us; on the other, it redshifts as it recedes.

Each merger of black holes produces gravitational waves — ripples in the fabric of the universe — predicted by Einstein and first detected with key contributions from Kip Thorne.

The James Webb Space Telescope spotted a luminous streak in a distant galaxy, like the wake of a speedboat, only two hundred thousand light-years long. At the head of this trail races a supermassive black hole, plowing through tenuous gas at 954 km/s. The gas gets compressed, heats up, and glows.

Quasar W2246–0526 is a beacon lit when the universe was just 1.3 billion years old. Its light has traveled 12.8 billion years to reach us, yet even at such a distance, astronomers have spotted what had eluded them for decades: the gravitational shadow of a black hole.