The construction of four 23 m-diameter telescopes belong to the Large-Sized Telescope (LST) array at the Roque de los Muchachos Observatory in La Palma, Spain.
The telescopes are designed to detect the faint Cherenkov light flashes when very high-energy gamma rays interact with the Earth’s atmosphere.
The LSTs are the most sensitive instruments in the world for observing gamma rays at energies between approximately 20 GeV and 3 TeV.
The first LST-1 telescope was built in 2020 and has already completed observations of pulsars, studies of active galactic nuclei at cosmological distances and rapid follow-up observations of transient phenomena such as novae and gamma-ray bursts.
The three other telescopes now join LST-1 and by observing the same gamma-ray showers simultaneously from multiple directions, it will provide improved sensitivity, angular resolution and energy reconstruction.
Their sensitivity to the lowest-energy gamma rays will enable astronomers to detect and study bright gamma-ray bursts at high redshift, potentially extending gamma-ray observations to sources at redshifts of around z∼4 to provide new insights into the early universe.
The telescopes will provide new insights into the early universe. (Courtesy: LST collaboration)
“The completion of the LST sub-array is the culmination of more than 15 years of international collaboration and technological innovation,” says Japanese astrophysicist Masahiro Teshima, who is principal investigator of the LST collaboration. “These telescopes will allow us to explore some of the most extreme environments in the universe, including supermassive black holes, neutron stars and the nature of dark matter.”
North-south divide
The telescope will form part of the Cherenkov Telescope Array Observatory (CTAO), which when operational in 2028 will operate between 20 GeV and 300 TeV and be the world’s most powerful observatory for gamma-ray astronomy.
The CTAO will consist of six LST telescopes as well as two other arrays: 23 telescopes belonging to the Medium-Sized Telescope (MST), which will operate between 80 GeV and 50 TeV, and 37 telescopes for the Small-Sized Telescope (SST) that will work between 2 TeV and 300 TeV.
The 66 telescopes will be distributed between CTAO-North at La Palma and CTAO-South at the Paranal Observatory in the Atacama Desert in Chile.
The LSTs form the low-energy core of CTAO-North and over the coming years they will undergo commissioning and be integrated into CTAO operations.
At the centre of our galaxy lies a supermassive black hole, Sagittarius A* (Sgr A*), that’s more than four million times the mass of the Sun. Astronomers have now discovered the fastest-known star in the Milky Way zooming around this black hole in an extremely close orbit. Observations of this star, known as S301, could shed new light on the spin of Sgr A*.
Black holes are extremely large concentrations of matter condensed into very small regions of space. As a black hole spins, it drags the surrounding space–time around it, a phenomenon known as frame dragging or the Lense-Thirring effect. This frame dragging creates a cosmic whirlpool, twisting the fabric of space–time and warping the orbits of nearby stars. However, unless the orbiting star reaches very close proximity, this subtle effect is difficult to measure.
“Our group has determined the mass of the central black hole down to sub-percent precision,” says team member Felix Mang, a PhD student at Max Planck Institute for Extraterrestrial Physics (MPE) and author of the study published in Nature. “A black hole is characterized exclusively by its mass, spin, or angular momentum and electric charge; now that we’ve measured the mass really, really accurately, the next step is to measure the spin.”
Lying in the galactic centre approximately 27,000 light-years from Earth, Sgr A* offers another direct way to measure its spin. There are a few dozen stars whirling around the massive black hole on nearly Keplerian orbits. The stars that come closest to Sgr A* most effectively probe its spin as they reach into the deepest parts of the gravitational potential, altering their trajectories.
For example, the star S2 is on a 16-year orbit and has been meticulously tracked using the GRAVITY instrument on the European Southern Observatory’s Very Large Telescope Interferometer. GRAVITY’s emergent near-infrared interferometry enabled the detection of strong relativistic effects during S2’s close approach in 2018, including a 12-arcminute orbital precession consistent with the Schwarzschild metric derived from Einstein’s general theory of relativity.
Despite these measurable relativistic effects, even at its pericentre when it is closest to Sgr A*, S2 remains too far away to detect the black hole’s spin without prohibitively long years of observation.
Discovery of S301
Although S2 is not a suitable candidate for Sgr A* spin measurements, the newly discovered star S301 is an ideal cosmic probe. Mang notes that the star is “a bit heavier than the Sun, and it has a radius which is a bit bigger; but overall, it’s not that special”. S301 is under 1.5 solar masses with a radius about 1.4 to 1.6 times that of the Sun, and it is too faint to be one of the giant stars in the galactic centre. Although the main-sequence star S301 may seem fairly ordinary, its extremely eccentric orbit and very close approach to the supermassive black hole are remarkable.
“We found the star in Spring 2023,” recalls Mang. Upon detection, the team could not conclude whether it was a foreground or a background star. However, dedicated follow-up observations in 2024 revealed a pronounced acceleration in S301’s proper motion, or apparent angular change of position on the sky. “It was curving away from a linear trajectory, which gave us a hint that it may be bound to the black hole,” Mang explains. Continued observations in 2025 allowed the team to create a robust initial model of S301’s orbit, revealing it to be “indeed a very eccentric and tightly orbiting star, which was then later on confirmed”.
Armed with evidence that the star might be gravitationally bound to Sgr A*, the team looked to the past, hoping to lock down S301’s orbit. Combing through archival data, the astronomers searched for traces of the star before its close approach in 2023. As Mang notes, “getting these two pre-peri positions in 2021 and 2017 was rather challenging, [we were] digging through the data”. The meticulous hunting paid off and revealed a strong trace of S301 in 2021 and a weaker signature back in 2017.
With 19 distinct positions found across nearly a decade of data, the team outlined a clear elliptical orbit, revealing that the star had zoomed past the supermassive black hole at its closest approach in early 2023 and passed significantly closer to the black hole than S2 ever has.
Extreme path of S301
The team determined that S301 boasts an orbital period of just 8.7 years, making it the shortest known orbital period around Sgr A*. This breaks the previous record, held by the star S55, which takes about 12 years to complete its path.
But S301’s orbital period is only part of what makes its path extraordinary. With an eccentricity of about 0.98, S301’s elongated path brings the star to a pericentre distance of approximately 1.78 billion kilometres, roughly 10 times smaller than that of S2. At that closest approach, S301 speeds around at about 25,000 km/s, making it the fastest known star in the Milky Way.
Because S301 gets so close to the supermassive black hole, general relativity strongly affects its orbit. In particular, S301 experiences a phenomenon known as the Schwarzschild precession, which shifts the star’s orbit by about 2° per revolution. Over the course of roughly 1500–1600 years, those slight shifts accumulate into a full 360° rotation of the orbit.
While this dramatic shift is driven by the colossal mass of Sgr A*, S301’s extreme orbit is also subjected to a subtler spin-induced effect: the Lense-Thirring precession. As Sgr A* spins, the twisted space–time forces S301’s orbital plane to slowly wobble, making it a powerful probe of the curved space–time around Sgr A*. By precisely tracking the star’s motion, astronomers can examine how its trajectory is shifted by these two precession effects, thereby enabling them to measure the spin of the supermassive black hole.
Looking forward, the upcoming years should bring substantially better data. “The instrument we are observing with, GRAVITY, has undergone some major upgrades, which gives us more flux, and we also expect to get better astrometric precision,” Mang says. “Along with that, we expect the Extremely Large Telescope, and one of its first light instruments, MICADO, to be operational by roughly 2030.”
These advances will allow astronomers to trace the motion of S301 with incredible precision. As a result, the team is confident that these instruments will decode the mystery of Sgr A*’s spin. “Combining the astrometry or proper motion measured with GRAVITY on the sky of that star, and then having a perception of the velocity of that star in the plane or out of the plane of the sky with MICADO, will allow the measurement of SgrA*’s spin, probably within the next 10 years,” Mang explains.
On 9 October 2022, a gamma-ray burst called GRB 221009A sent an enormous amount of high-energy radiation toward Earth. The Large High Altitude Air Shower Observatory (LHAASO) detected thousands of photons from the event, including some above 10 TeV. More than an hour later, the Carpet cosmic ray detector recorded something much harder to explain: a photon-like event with an estimated energy of 300 (+43/-38) TeV. At that energy, according to standard physics, the photon should have disappeared during its journey to Earth.
Giorgio Galanti of INAF and Marco Roncadelli of INFN have now examined what could allow such a photon to survive. Their explanation, reported in Physical Review Letters, involves two hypothetical effects: axion-like particles, or ALPs, and a possible violation of Lorentz invariance.
The space between galaxies is filled with background light, including the cosmic microwave background (CMB), the faint radiation left from the early universe. A 300 TeV gamma ray can collide with these low-energy photons and produce an electron and a positron. At this energy, the CMB is the dominant source of absorption.
“The CMB is extremely dense,” Galanti explains. A 300 TeV photon therefore has a mean free path far shorter than the distance from GRB 221009A, making the universe effectively opaque to it.
The numbers are difficult to put into perspective. Galanti and Roncadelli calculate that conventional propagation would result in only about 10-96 expected photons in the Carpet energy range. The Carpet event itself is also unusual because the detector did not find the muon signal expected from a hadronic cosmic-ray shower. The collaboration estimated the probability of a hadron being misidentified as the event at about 3 × 10-4.
Galanti says the researchers are taking the published Carpet result at face value while leaving open the question of whether it will ultimately prove to be a signal of new physics.
Two options to consider
One possible explanation involves ALPs, hypothetical particles that can mix with photons in magnetic fields. A photon can convert into an ALP, travel through a region where photons would be absorbed, and later convert back into a photon. This mechanism could help explain the LHAASO photons detected between roughly 10 and 20 TeV. But it runs into trouble at 300 TeV.
“ALPs alone fall short by roughly two orders of magnitude at 300 TeV,” Galanti says. They remain useful at lower energies, but the CMB absorption becomes too severe at the Carpet energy. The researchers found that within the range of ALP parameters under consideration, the expected number of Carpet photons stays below about 10-4, lower than the 0.0513 required at the 95% confidence level.
That led the researchers to consider another effect: a possible violation of Lorentz invariance, one of the foundations of relativity.
In the scenario they studied, the Lorentz invariant violation (LIV)-induced modifications of photon propagation change the threshold for photon–photon absorption. A 300 TeV photon can then interact with higher-energy background photons, which are much less abundant than the CMB photons responsible for ordinary absorption. The universe then becomes more transparent to the photon.
The researchers calculate upper limits of 1.22 × 10²¹ GeV for the linear LIV scale and 2.03 × 10¹³ GeV for the quadratic case, at 95% confidence.
The interesting part is that they don’t use LIV as a replacement for ALPs. As Galanti explains, ALPs function at LHAASO energies but not at Carpet energies, while LIV operates at Carpet energies but not at LHAASO energies. Their model incorporates both effects into a single theoretical framework.
There is another clue. A separate analysis by Dmitry Ofengeim and Tsvi Piran found that the more-than-one-hour delay between the LHAASO and Carpet events can also be explained with quadratic LIV. Their estimated scale is consistent with the limit obtained by Galanti and Roncadelli.
But Galanti is careful about what the result means.
“A single candidate photon from a single cosmic event cannot be claimed as an undisputed discovery,” he says. Confirmation would require repeated observations from multiple distant sources showing the same energy-dependent signatures.
Future observations from facilities including ASTRI Mini-Array, CTAO, SWGO and the expanded LHAASO could test whether similar high-energy signatures appear in gamma-ray bursts and distant active galaxies.
For now, the 300 TeV event remains an unusual observation with a possible explanation that goes beyond standard photon propagation.
Members of the Thirty Meter Telescope (TMT) International Organization have turned down Spain’s €1bn offer to build the instrument at the Roque de los Muchachos Observatory in La Palma. The package was put forward in July with funding also provided from the European Investment Bank and Spain’s Official Credit Institute. The decision makes Hawaii’s Mauna Kea as the only possible option for the telescope.
The TMT, if built, would use a segmented primary mirror consisting of 492 elements of zero-expansion glass for a 30 m-diameter primary mirror that will allow astronomers to resolve the faintest and oldest galaxies.
The TMT’s members include the University of California, the California Institute of Technology, Canada, India, and Japan.
Officials at the TMT have not released a final construction cost for the telescope, but it is expected to be at least $3bn, of which $2bn has been committed.
In 2009, the TMT organization choose Hawaii’s Mauna Kea peak as its location. However, in 2015 protests by indigenous Hawaiians, who regard the site as sacred, delayed the start of construction.
Some astronomers, however, were concerned by the potential move given that La Palma’s environmental conditions may limit the telescope’s scientific potential. In particular, the warmer climate and lower elevation of La Palma compared to Mauna Kea could affect mid-infrared observations, which require dry, cool conditions.
A year later, the NSF decided to pursue the GMT, which uses seven primary and seven secondary mirrors to give it an optical surface of 25.4 m. Building of the GMT is already under way at Chile’s Las Campanas peak with officials working toward a final design review.
In 2025, Spain then offered €400m to join the project if the TMT was built in La Palma. In July, the European Investment Bank and Spain’s Official Credit Institute said it would provide an additional €600m in loans towards construction.
Yet according to a statement from the Astrophysics Institute of the Canaries (IAC), which operates the Roque de los Muchachos Observatory, TMT officials have now rejected that offer.
The IAC say that TMT members were “unable to reach the consensus required to accept the financial offer”.
The IAC adds that despite the decision, the institute “remains fully committed to the scientific and technological development of the [Roque de los Muchachos Observatory]” and will continue to promote the installation of new infrastructure including the Cherenkov Telescope Array Observatory and the European Solar Telescope.
Lift off A SpaceX Falcon Heavy rocket with NASA’s Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope on board is seen transiting the Sun during launch from the Kennedy Space Center in Florida on 30 August 2026. Named after the agency’s first chief astronomer, the telescope will survey billions of stars and galaxies with a field of view far larger than Hubble’s, helping scientists to study dark energy, exoplanets and the evolution of the universe. (Courtesy: NASA/John Kraus)
At 7.26 a.m. on Sunday 30 August 2026, a SpaceX Falcon Heavy rocket rose from the Kennedy Space Center in Florida, carrying NASA’s Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope on its initial three-month journey beyond the Moon. As I watched online from my home in Sydney, Australia, that evening, the launch did not disappoint. There was all the familiar theatre of a rocket taking off: the brilliant column of flame, mission control calling out that it had gone through the point of peak aerodynamic stress, then the booster and main-engine cut-offs, before the fairing finally fell away.
Just 31 minutes after lift-off, Roman separated from its carrier rocket and began its long journey to L2, the second Sun–Earth Lagrange point, 1.5 million kilometres from Earth. Once it arrives there at the end of November, the gravitational balance will let Roman maintain its orbit with relatively little fuel. The Sun, Earth and Moon will all be on the same side of the spacecraft so that a single shield can block their light and heat, while the telescope faces away from them and stays cold.
Yet the most impactful part of Roman’s journey will be less visible. When its first images are released, hopefully in early 2027, the telescope will accelerate a change already long under way in astronomy. Rather than investigating carefully selected objects in the sky, astronomers are now increasingly mapping entire populations – monitoring a changing sky and searching enormous datasets for discoveries no single observer could conceivably find by eye. Roman will speed up that trend much further.
During the launch broadcast, I heard NASA administrator Jared Isaacman say Roman will study the “ecology of the universe”. Some cameras, he suggested, can provide an overview of a forest, while others can zoom in on individual birds and leaves. Roman, however, will combine both approaches. With a 2.4 m-diameter primary mirror, its images will be as sharp as those from the Hubble Space Telescope. But Roman’s Wide Field Instrument (WFI) can cover at least 100 times as much sky in a single pointing.
Bigger, brighter, better The Roman telescope will scan a much wider field of view than the Hubble Space Telescope (insert) ever could. (Courtesy: NASA)
With Roman, the detailed and population views become part of the same observation. Traditionally in astronomy, a sharp image of a single galaxy can reveal its stars, dust and morphology, while a wide but (usually) less detailed survey can tell us how galaxies are distributed. Roman will do both: it will record fine detail while retaining the wider view of the environments and populations to which individual objects belong. It will, in essence, allow astronomers to study in detail entire cosmic ecosystems as well as their constituent objects.
And that is what makes Roman so revolutionary.
From observing targets to interrogating surveys
For much of modern professional astronomy, observing began with a proposal to study an object of scientific interest. If it was accepted by an observatory’s time-allocation committee, the astronomer would travel to the telescope (or, later, log in remotely), collect a manageable quantity of data, reduce and analyse it, and retain exclusive access during a proprietary period while preparing their first research paper. The observer knew why each exposure had been taken.
That model has not disappeared. The Hubble and James Webb space telescopes remain extraordinarily powerful precisely because they can study selected targets in fantastic detail. Roman’s coronagraph, meanwhile, will test active optics that suppress starlight far more effectively than existing space-based coronagraphs, allowing it to image giant planets orbiting nearby stars and paving the way for future missions to photograph smaller, Earth-like worlds.
However, alongside targeted astronomy, a different observing mode has become increasingly important, namely observatories designed to produce systematic, reusable maps of the sky. The Gaia mission of the European Space Agency (ESA) is one such example. Over its 11-year life between 2014 and 2025, Gaia took more than three trillion (3 × 1012) observations of roughly two billion stars and other objects. Its public catalogues have allowed researchers to reconstruct the Milky Way’s structure, identify stellar streams and star clusters, examine binary stars and search for rare objects, often without ever applying for new telescope time.
Gaia’s third data release, which was made public in June 2022, included 10.5 million “variable sources” – any objects that change in brightness over time, sometimes regularly and sometimes unpredictably. They were all classified using supervised machine-learning techniques, in which an algorithm learns from previously labelled examples. No astronomer could personally have inspected that many light curves (records of brightness versus time).
Space pioneer Nancy Grace Roman, born in 1925, was the first female executive at NASA and served as the agency’s first chief of astronomy throughout the 1960s and 1970s. She created NASA’s space astronomy programme and is known to many as the “Mother of Hubble” for her role in planning the Hubble Space Telescope. Pictured here explaining the Advanced Orbiting Solar Observatory to astronaut Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin, she was also an active public speaker, educator and advocate for women in science. (Courtesy: NASA)
The Vera C Rubin Observatory in Chile makes the new approach to professional astronomy even more explicit. Its decade-long Legacy Survey of Space and Time, which began in 2026, is collecting some 10 terabytes of data each and every night. Whenever its software detects that something has changed, it issues an alert. When alerts are triggered, they will be sent to automated “brokers”, which will cross-match them against existing catalogues, classify them and rank candidates for follow-up scrutiny. It is unlikely that an astronomer searching for supernovae, variable stars or hazardous asteroids, for example, will begin with the telescope’s raw images. Throughout modern astronomy, the starting point will instead be a filtered stream produced by a chain of algorithms.
Roman will carry this survey logic into space, beyond the blurring and infrared glow of the Earth’s atmosphere. As Roman’s deputy WFI scientist Ami Choi explained during the launch broadcast, the wide view is essential, especially for cosmologists. They don’t only need sharp measurements of individual galaxy shapes but also data on enough galaxies across a sufficiently large volume. That way they can distinguish the behaviour of the universe on large scales from the peculiarities of one small region.
Roman's three surveys
Roman’s three core surveys will show how a dataset can be designed to answer one question while creating the raw material for many others.
The High-Latitude Wide-Area Survey will map more than 5000 square degrees, which is more than 12% of the sky. It will do this using both imaging and “slitless” spectroscopy, in which spectra are recorded for every suitable object in the field rather than just individually selected targets.
Measuring the subtly distorted shapes of hundreds of millions of galaxies should reveal the distribution of dark matter – the mysterious, invisible stuff that makes up 27% of the universe by mass-energy – and also how cosmic structure has grown over time. Yet the same observations will also contain stars in the Milky Way, nearby galaxies, distant quasars, strong gravitational lenses and objects that no survey committee will ever have thought to put on a target list.
Roman’s High-Latitude Time-Domain Survey, meanwhile will repeatedly image “deep” fields at roughly five-day intervals, producing an anticipated 100,000 transient light curves. Type Ia supernovae, whose luminosities can be standardized to make them cosmic distance indicators, will trace the expansion history of the universe, but the repeated images should also expose variable galactic nuclei and rare explosions.
Finally, the Galactic Bulge Time-Domain Survey will revisit six fields of the sky about every 12 minutes during its most intensive observing seasons. Its main goal is to detect the temporary brightening of a star that occurs when the gravity of an unseen object passes in front and bends its light. Such “gravitational microlensing” events can reveal cold planets orbiting their host stars as well as free-floating planets and isolated black holes. The same sequence becomes a record of stellar variability and motion.
The reuse of data that we’ll see with Roman is not entirely new. Photographs recorded on physical glass plates often preserved far more sky than the astronomer who exposed them intended to study. Indeed, there have been instances of researchers trawling through old plate archives who’ve made discoveries decades after the photos were originally recorded. Electronic detectors, which produce digital images, made searching old data in this way far easier.
But what is new is the scale and the degree to which reuse is built into the Roman observatory from the outset. Many papers about data from the Roman mission will, I am sure, be written years later by researchers who were never involved in choosing the original data collection and may encounter the observation only as a row in a database.
Together, these observatories mark the arrival of what might be called astronomy’s “production era”. The phrase may sound industrial, but it describes a real shift in our professional practice. Telescope time remains precious, but it is no longer the only scarce resource. What will be increasingly hard to come by will be the capacity to process, connect and interpret what surveys have already observed, and to formulate a question sharp enough to extract meaning from an archive built for many purposes.
A picture too large to see
The data that Roman will yield is mind-boggling. Roman’s WFI has 18 infrared detector arrays with a total of about 300 million pixels. Even one field would require three dozen 4K television screens to display at full resolution. But Roman will tile thousands of such fields into surveys. During the pre-launch broadcast, Roman programme scientist Dominic Benford joked that NASA would need more than 500,000 TV sets to display the largest completed survey; laid out together, they’d cover some 45 city blocks.
Instrumental magic The Roman telescope’s Wide Field Imager has 18 detectors that can create 300-million-pixel images over a 0.28 square degree field of view. (Courtesy: NASA/Goddard Space Flight Center)
Calling this a single “picture” is convenient but misleading. It will be a computationally constructed portrait assembled from many pointings, observing epochs and filters. The telescope collects photons; processing pipelines calibrate the detectors, remove instrumental signatures, align exposures and turn them into images, mosaics and catalogues. In survey astronomy, computation is not something that happens after the observation; it is part of observing.
During its lifetime, Roman is expected to return around 1.4 terabytes (1.4 × 1012 bytes) of compressed data each and every day. In fact, if you take into account the intermediate data generated when the information is processed, Roman’s archive could top 20 petabytes (20 × 1015 bytes) over its five-year primary mission. NASA expects automated methods, including machine learning, to help explore the torrent of data.
Automation is unavoidable, but it poses a subtle problem. Algorithms are excellent at finding examples of phenomena on which they have been trained. The discoveries that change science, however, often do not fit into established categories. An anomaly-detection system can flag statistical outliers, but deciding which outliers are artefacts, familiar objects in unusual circumstances or genuinely new phenomena remains a scientific assessment.
Human involvement in Roman won’t be entirely superfluous, however, and will still be required to make breakthroughs. Citizen scientists will play their part too. We need to encourage amateur sleuths to follow in the footsteps of people like Hanny van Arkel – the Dutch schoolteacher who in 2007 spotted an unfamiliar green cloud in data gathered by the Sloan Digital Sky Survey. “Hanny’s Voorwerp”, as it became known, is an ionized cloud preserving the light echo of a quasar that had faded dramatically.
Open data, uneven opportunity
Roman will need both kinds of intelligence: machines capable of surveying the statistical forest and people – whether professional astronomers or citizen scientists – willing to pause over a strange bird in one of its trees. But the question is not just how Roman’s data will be searched. It is also who will get to search them.
The Roman space telescope will fundamentally change who gets the first chance to make a discovery
Roman, you see, will fundamentally change who gets the first chance to make a discovery. Hubble observers can receive up to a year of exclusive, “proprietary” access to their new data, which is typical for space- and ground-based professional programmes. Roman, however, will have no such period. Calibrated exposures are intended to become public within days, with more elaborate mosaics and catalogues following in periodic releases.
In principle, therefore, anyone will be able to start looking at observational data as soon as it’s released. The beauty of Roman is that a PhD student, a researcher at a small institution, or members of large international consortium will all be able to get going at the same time. The move to “open data” will also benefit astronomers at institutions who have traditionally lacked access to major telescopes.
However, it also complicates familiar ideas about ownership and priority. Who receives credit when one team designs a survey, another builds the pipeline, a machine identifies a puzzling candidate, and a third group recognizes its significance? Will researchers feel pressure to publish quickly rather than investigate carefully when competitors can access the same data?
Indeed, open access does not automatically create equal opportunity. A 20-petabyte archive cannot simply be downloaded onto a laptop. Researchers need computing resources, efficient code and the expertise to use them. That’s why the Space Telescope Science Institute in Baltimore, Maryland, has developed the cloud-based Roman Research Nexus, which will let users analyse mission data where they are stored.
Rather than trying to transfer vast wodges of raw data to their home institutions, researchers will instead write or upload code to a cloud-based environment where the Roman archive is stored, run the analysis there and then download the results. Essentially, they will take their code to the data, not the data to the code. Without such a platform, nominal access to the archive would be of limited use.
Even so, differences in funding, training, network bandwidth and available time will continue to shape who can exploit the archive most effectively. Astronomers will, in other words, still need to understand telescopes, detectors, calibration and astrophysics. But they will increasingly work alongside software engineers and statisticians, evaluate machine-generated classifications and design searches that can operate across billions of sources. Knowing what not to trust in a catalogue may become as important as knowing where to point a telescope.
From 3596 pixels to 300 million pixels
New development The Roman telescope is the next big thing in space-based infrared astronomy, which began in 1983 when NASA launched the Infrared Astronomical Satellite (IRAS). It created images such as this, in which the bright horizontal band is the plane of our Milky Way galaxy, with the centre of the galaxy located in the middle. Being so near, the Milky Way dominates our view of the entire sky, but when IRAS data was processed to show smaller regions of the sky, thousands of sources beyond our galaxy were revealed. (Courtesy: NASA/JPL)
In the early days of optical astronomy, researchers used traditional photographic plates to record individual images of the sky. To look at infrared light, astronomers turned to heat-sensitive detectors, but they’d still have to measure one position at a time, scanning a telescope across a source to build up information sequentially.
That logic changed in 1983 when NASA launched the Infrared Astronomical Satellite, which was the first space-based infrared observatory and had 62 separate detectors. By the 1990s, huge 256 × 256 arrays, encompassing 65,536 detector elements, had become common enough to support detailed infrared imaging of galaxies. Hubble’s Near Infrared Camera and Multi-Object Spectrometer, installed in 1997, used three arrays of this format.
I’ve seen the changes at first hand myself. In 1994 when I was doing my PhD at the University of Groningen in the Netherlands, I published my first paper on near-infrared astronomy, which I’d co-written with an undergraduate student I was supervising. It was based on infrared images of a galaxy taken with a camera on the 2.1 metre telescope at the Kitt Peak National Observatory in Arizona, which used an indium-antimonide detector with just 3596 pixels.
For my PhD itself, however, I observed a sample of galaxies using the European Southern Observatory’s 2.2-metre telescope at La Silla in Chile using a mercury cadmium telluride detector with 65,536 pixels. That was an 18-fold increase over the Kitt Peak camera, yet Roman’s focal plane, with its 18 detector arrays, contains more than 300 million physical pixels.
Progress is not just about pixel count. The advantages of working in space are even bigger because you get none of the atmospheric turbulence or infrared background that you do on Earth. However, it’s not all plain sailing. Space-borne infrared arrays need to be sensitive, uniform, low-noise and reliable; they also have to operate at cryogenic temperatures (roughly 90 K) and endure a harsh radiation environment.
In fact, Roman’s equipment represents decades of progress in materials science, fabrication, electronics, calibration and computing as well as our ability to make pixels ever-smaller. Its infrared detectors are cooled passively by radiators that discharge heat into space rather than by liquid helium.
Larger arrays have also changed what it means to select an astronomical target. A single detector requires an astronomer to decide where to measure: a small array records one selected view. Roman, however, will capture a panoramic field large enough to contain a huge amount of scientifically useful objects. It will transform astronomy, which will be less about choosing what to study and more about working out how to analyse huge data sets.
Looking differently
Roman will not replace targeted observatories or the astronomer’s intuition. Its most intriguing discoveries will often require the James Webb Space Telescope, Hubble or ground-based telescopes to inspect individual objects in greater detail. Instead, these facilities are complementary: one maps entire populations, another inspects exceptional objects, and each changes what the other knows to look for.
Roman’s launch on 30 August lasted little more than half an hour. But the transition the observatory represents has taken decades, driven by larger detectors, faster electronics, public archives and increasingly sophisticated software. I entered professional astronomy when infrared images containing tens of thousands of pixels were normal (see box). Roman will create survey portraits containing trillions of pixels, release its data rapidly to the world and ask humans and machines to explore them together.
When Roman reaches L2 and begins returning science data, its most important legacy may be a way of observing in which the sky becomes a shared, continuously growing dataset. And discovery begins with learning how to explore it.
Physicists at CERN have recreated the collisions that trigger cosmic-ray air showers in Earth’s atmosphere. Results from the ATLAS experiment on the Large Hadron Collider (LHC) show that none of the computer models used to simulate showers gets every detail right. Their measurements of particle production in proton–oxygen collisions are more than ten times more precise than the differences between the models – which could be improved by these latest results. This will be a step toward understanding the most energetic particles in the universe.
Cosmic rays are energetic particles (mostly protons) from outer space. They strike Earth’s atmosphere at nearly the speed of light, setting off cascades of secondary particles.
“Cosmic-ray air showers are sprays of particles raining down from high in the sky,” explains Jesse Liu of New York University, the lead author of a paper that describes the study. He adds that cosmic rays come from “extreme corners of our universe,” with exploding stars and supermassive black holes in distant galaxies as likely sources.
Still, the origin of the most energetic cosmic rays remains “one of the biggest mysteries in astrophysics,” says Karl-Heinz Kampert of the University of Wuppertal in Germany, who was not involved in the study. Such particles carry a hundred billion-billion electron volts or more – compared to the million-million electron volts achieved by the LHC. At the highest energies, only about one such particle hits each square kilometer of Earth’s surface per century. “The only way to measure them in sufficient numbers is to detect the extensive air showers they produce,” he says.
Difficult calculations
Interpreting these showers relies on computer simulations. But, the role of the strong nuclear force, which governs the underlying collisions, is notoriously difficult to calculate. The simulations therefore use models informed by accelerator data, yet “existing models widely disagree with one another on how these showers form,” says Liu.
The most energetic cosmic rays collide at energies far beyond the reach of the LHC, so “we must extrapolate the known properties of particle interactions at man-made accelerators to those occurring in the upper atmosphere,” Kampert explains. Moreover, the LHC’s beams had previously consisted only of protons or heavy nuclei such as lead, rather than the light nitrogen and oxygen nuclei found in air. “For more than a decade, the cosmic-ray community has been working to convince the CERN and particle physics communities of the importance of such measurements,” he says.
That changed in July 2025, when the LHC was reconfigured “to make protons acting as cosmic rays collide with oxygen nuclei playing the role of Earth’s atmosphere,” says Liu. The ATLAS detector recorded the charged particles these collisions produced.
Key parameter
ATLAS physicists studied “how many particles are created during collisions of protons and oxygen nuclei, alongside what energies and angles these particles fly out at,” Liu explains. They also determined the cross section, which “tells us how often these collisions occur,” he adds. Kampert calls it “a key parameter,” because it determines the average depth at which cosmic rays first interact in the atmosphere. This depth affects “essentially all air-shower measurements that are needed to infer the mass” of the incoming particle.
The measured cross section lies at the low end of model predictions, agreeing with only two of the seven models tested. The team also used it to infer the cross section for protons colliding with air, a quantity previously measured at such high energies only by cosmic-ray observatories. The result agrees with earlier air-shower measurements at similar energies.
“Our measurements are more than ten times more precise than the differences between the existing computer models,” says Liu. “Our data show that no model correctly describes the number of particles created in these collisions.” Some models misjudge the frequency of rare, particle-rich collisions by a factor of ten. A model called Angantyr best reproduces the particles’ energies and directions, but no model describes all the results consistently.
Blind spots and next steps
Kampert points out that the measurement has a blind spot because multipurpose detectors like CERN’s ATLAS and CMS are optimized to track particles flying out at relatively large angles to the beam. He explains, “most of the collision energy remains unseen by ATLAS and CMS and escapes close to the beam pipe, at very small angles. This unseen region most strongly influences the features of the air showers.” Specialized experiments, such as LHCf at CERN, are designed to fill this gap.
The next step, says Liu, is “to apply our data to improve the computer models of cosmic-ray showers.” Physicists will then check whether this eases the “muon puzzle” — facilities such as the Pierre Auger Observatory in Argentina see more muons, heavier cousins of electrons, in air showers than simulations predict. “Our proton–oxygen data are an important step toward resolving these puzzles and help decipher cosmic mysteries, namely what high-energy cosmic rays are made of and where they come from,” Liu adds.
“Model builders have been eagerly awaiting this data and have started improving their models based on it and earlier accelerator data,” says Kampert. Because Auger results suggest that the most energetic cosmic rays are mostly heavier nuclei such as carbon, nitrogen, oxygen and silicon, he calls data from oxygen–oxygen or nitrogen–nitrogen collisions “another important step forward.”
Earlier this year, he and colleagues outlined in Nature Reviews Physics how such data could feed into a common tuning of the models, an undertaking he calls “a great community effort involving researchers from different fields of science.”
“I hope [our work] strengthens the cross-disciplinary connections between particle physics and high-energy astrophysics, with much to learn from each other,” says Liu.
The image – The Quiet Predator – captures the Shark Nebula, which lies almost 650 light years away in the constellation Cepheus. The nebula is made of interstellar dust dense enough to block starlight with the blue-coloured areas in the image being “reflection nebulae” – clouds of interstellar dust that do not emit their own visible light but rather scatters and reflects light from nearby stars.
The image was taken in August 2025 with an Askar 140 APO telescope from the Jahra Governorate, Kuwait.
Sam Wen, founder and chief executive office of the astrophotography firm ZWO, says the image “is a stunning blend of technical excellence and artistic vision”.
“Showcasing the intricate structures of a rarely photographed nebula, the image combines remarkable detail with a striking composition and colour palette, inviting viewers to explore the hidden beauty of the cosmos,” adds Wen.
Alobaidly says it is a “tremendous honour” to receive the award.
“The juxtaposition of an oceanic predator prowling the skies above the Kuwaiti desert is something I find deeply poetic, and it is what first drew me to this remarkable region of the sky,” adds Alobaidly. “To me, it represents perfectly my love for both the Universe and the deserts of my ancestors.”
Alobaidly now hopes to continue using astrophotography for outreach and scientific research.
As well as winning the £10,000 top prize, the image will go on display along with other selected pictures from the competition at an exhibition at the National Maritime Museum observatory on 18 September.
The award – now in its 18th year – is run by the Royal Observatory Greenwich in association with ZWO and BBC Sky at Night Magazine.
When it comes to power, the pair think it should be possible to generate sufficient energy even for a large city and without the need for nuclear power.
They estimate it would be possible to generate 3 GW of electricity using kilometre-tall towers covered with photovoltaic arrays. Not only that but it would be possible to manufacture solar panels on the Moon given the amount of silicon on the surface.
Yet it is not good news when it comes to water consumption. We have known for well over a decade that the Moon’s poles contain water ice, possibly as much as a billion tonnes, with Moon-orbiting craft mapping out likely locations in great detail.
Even assuming one billion tonnes of water on the Moon, if nothing was recycled then a city of a million would last only a few years, while a population of 100,000 would run for 20 years before running dry.
Even when recycling the water with an efficiency of 98% – as performed on the International Space Station – a city of a million would only have enough water for around a century.
The authors say that to sustain a lunar city of that size would require improving water-recycling efficiencies beyond 99.5%, reducing water usage through vertical farming or simply finding more water on the Moon.
So for now it sounds like a Moon village may be the only possibility. The authors state that a town of around 10,000 people, for example, may be sustainable for several centuries.
While Earth’s atmosphere is constantly changing, many spectacular storms and atmospheric waves on Saturn remain stable for decades or even centuries.
Images from NASA’s Voyager craft as it flew-by the planet in the early 1980s revealed a large and long-lived hexagonal atmospheric wave around Saturn’s north pole.
Yet despite decades of observations from other craft such as the Cassini mission, no similar wave has been reported in the southern hemisphere or elsewhere.
The researchers discover the phenomenon thanks to images from NASA’s Hubble Space Telescope as well as ground-based telescopes as the planet’s south pole came back into view from Earth due to Saturn’s axial tilt.
It seems that the 10-sided wave developed between 2023 and 2025 and may still be evolving, in contrast to the 40-plus years of steadiness shown by the hexagon.
The longitudes of the decagon’s vertices oscillate over a period of 32 days, and its movements suggest it may be trapped by the curvature of an atmospheric jet.
The researchers suggest the wave could have been created by a spatially periodic disturbance in the jet peak or driven by an “anticyclonic vortex” to its north.
However, further study is required to better understand how it formed and how it compares to the hexagon structure in the north.
“The most intriguing part to me is that this seems to have just formed recently,” notes study co-author Amy Simon from NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center in Maryland. “The question is, why did it suddenly form now when we haven’t seen one before?”
As wildfires and extreme heat events rage across the world, “apocalyptic” has become an increasingly common descriptor. These climate disasters are not unprecedented, however. New research suggests they may have been the main mechanisms behind the mass extinction event that killed the dinosaurs – and much other life on Earth – 66 million years ago.
Our modern understanding of this extinction dates back to 1980, when the father-and-son, physicist-and-geologist team of Luis and Walter Alvarez presented evidence that it was triggered by an asteroid strike. Subsequent work identified the Chicxulub crater in Mexico’s Yucatán Peninsula as the likely impact site, but debate has persisted – including over how a single asteroid could cause worldwide destruction.
In the latest work, Brandon and Alexandria Johnson, a husband-and-wife duo at Purdue University in the US, fit another piece into this puzzle. By combining Brandon’s research on impact cratering with Alexandria’s expertise on the behaviour of atmospheric particulates, they found that the asteroid impact sent up a near-impermeable layer of dust that smothered the entire planet. Their research, published in Journal of Geophysical Research: Biogeosciences, breathes new life into a theory that had fallen out of favour: that extreme heat and wildfires were the main killers on the day the asteroid hit.
The key to ignition
At some level, this dust layer likely produced a cooling effect, much as large volcanic eruptions do today. Indeed, a previous study showed that condensed droplets of rock known as spherules would have blocked the Sun’s radiation from entering the atmosphere.
At the Earth’s surface, however, the Johnsons think the dinosaurs had the opposite problem. The impact also sent a massive plume containing over 1000 km3 of vaporized material high into the atmosphere. When this material rained down as spherules, the dust cloud’s potential cooling effect was reversed.
“[The spherules] are essentially adding energy back to the atmosphere by travelling through it to the surface. That energy has to go somewhere,” Alexandria Johnson explains. “What we found is that this dust layer over the planet is essentially acting like a lid, and it’s keeping almost all the radiation that should try to find its way back out to space and reradiating it back down to the surface. So it’s enough to not only kill the dinosaurs but actually start widespread wildfires.”
Both researchers were surprised at just how opaque this dust layer was. By their reckoning, it trapped almost all radiation within the atmosphere, allowing a staggeringly tiny upwards transmittance of just 10-286.
“I asked [Brandon] to redo my calculation, I was like ‘make sure these numbers are right’, because this is absolutely nothing,” says Alexandria. “I expected more than what we got to be reradiated out, but the fact that it doesn’t just enhances the whole idea of the heat pulse killing things off in a very quick manner.”
Based on the Johnsons’ estimated heat fluxes, any creatures that couldn’t shelter or burrow – dinosaurs included – would have suffered temperature-induced deaths within an hour or two of the impact. The radiation was also more than enough to ignite lichens, grasses and pine needles, destroying vast amounts of plant life through wildfires.
Never-ending night
Anything that survived the heat then had to face the darkness. “You would have had darkness lasting for a long time which then can cause collapse of the food chain in the oceans and cause oceanic extinctions,” says Brandon Johnson. The dust particles were about as small as those in wildfire smoke, and they may have blocked out the Sun for as long as decades before settling into what we now see as the K-Pg boundary: a rock layer a few millimetres thick that contains high levels of iridium, identified by the Alvarezes as coming from an asteroid.
Although some previousworks suggested that the impact couldn’t have ejected enough material to trigger such large-scale effects, Brandon says his analysis of rock vaporization thresholds indicates that the plume’s mass was big enough to facilitate the transport of material across the planet’s atmosphere. Without this transport, he adds, the wreckage would have been more localized to the Chicxulub impact site.
Given the interdisciplinary nature of the field, Brandon thinks there are many ways this line of research could continue. Possibilities include investigating the geological record in more detail and combustion experiments to better understand the wildfires’ impacts. He himself is hoping to carry out 3D impact simulations which can more accurately incorporate the vaporization of rock. “Essentially, [we want] to see what happens to that vapour and see if it is going to expand and be deposited globally as we expect,” he says.
NASA has successfully launched the $4.3bn Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope. The observatory took off atop a SpaceX Falcon Heavy rocket from Florida’s Kennedy Space Center at 7.26 a.m. local time on 30 August. The craft will now spend three months travelling to a point in space known as the second Sun–Earth Lagrange point (L2) where it will survey space with a field of view at least 100 times greater than the Hubble Space Telescope.
From L2, which lies about 1.6 million kilometres from Earth, the Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope will yield insights into dark energy and dark matter, discover and characterize exoplanets, map billions of galaxies, and gain fresh understanding of black holes.
It will do so via a 2.4 m primary mirror that is accompanied by two instruments: a wide-field instrument will obtain images in visible and near-infrared light, while an experimental coronagraph will use masks, prisms and mirrors to cancel out the light from stars to help detect exoplanets.
“Roman will be a discovery machine that will bring us closer than ever before to answering humanity’s most profound questions about our cosmic history,” notes Nicola Fox, associate director for NASA’s Science Mission Directorate.
NASA intends the observatory to operate for at least a decade, with three specific surveys planned for its initial five years. The first will identify tens of thousands of distant supernovae, many more than the 2000 currently known, while a second survey will observe more than a billion galaxies.
Both these sets of measurements, combined with data from other survey telescopes, will be used to improve our understanding of dark energy and its potential role in the speed at which the universe expands. Their observations of gravitational lensing will also allow astronomers to map dark matter.
A third survey, meanwhile, will search the centre of the Milky Way for signs of gravitational microlensing that will reveal more than 2000 otherwise invisible exoplanets.
Space surveyor: the observatory will yield insights into dark energy and dark matter, study exoplanets, map billions of galaxies and to gain fresh understanding of black holes. (Courtesy: SpaceX)
Mother Hubble
The observatory was initially known as the Wide-Field Infrared Survey Telescope before it underwent several design changes due to cost pressures. In 2020 it was then renamed after Nancy Grace Roman (1925–2018), who in the early 1960s became NASA’s first chief astronomer and is known as “the mother of the Hubble Space Telescope”.
Yet the Roman observatory won’t replace Hubble or the James Webb Space Telescope, rather it will complement them, providing data from wide areas of the universe that those two instruments will then be able to observe in greater detail.
Indeed, Roman will survey the universe a thousand times faster than the Hubble, creating 1.4 billion terabytes (1.4 zettabytes) of information daily – the highest data rate of any NASA astrophysics mission.
NASA says that machine learning, artificial intelligence and “citizen science” will be used to help sift through the data and flag findings that astronomers will then study.
NASA administrator Jared Isaacman praised the mission as “exactly the kind of success story we want to see”. He noted that it was completed “ahead of schedule and on budget”, adding that it “will demonstrate what is possible when America’s space programme pairs bold ambition with disciplined execution”.
Packed with physics This photo montage of the 12 August 2026 solar eclipse as seen from the Isle of Wight, UK, holds a surprising amount of science. (Courtesy: Sean Ryan)
The UK’s hot, dry summer provided widespread clear skies for the solar eclipse that took place on Wednesday 12 August 2026. It was not a total eclipse – you had to be in northern Spain for that – but Britain still enjoyed a partial eclipse between around 6 p.m. and 8 p.m. BST, depending on location.
With typically more than 90% of the Sun’s disc covered – and with the event occurring after many people had finished work – the circumstances were ideal for a rare, immersive mass-engagement with physics.
Many people had got hold of eclipse glasses in advance or searched through kitchen cupboards for a colander to produce shadow patterns
Widespread public-awareness raising by professional and amateur astronomical societies had led to a strong build-up to the event in mainstream and social media. As a result, much of the public was aware the eclipse was coming, and many people had got hold of eclipse glasses in advance or, failing that, searched through kitchen cupboards for a colander to produce shadow patterns.
Here in the UK, friends and families gathered on west-facing hills, parks and village greens that evening with folding chairs, smartphones, cameras, telescopes and colanders, to enjoy the spectacle over a picnic tea. In built-up areas of towns and cities, many sought out west-facing windows of homes and offices.
I’m an old-school visual observer and recorded the eclipse sequence using 20-year-old equipment
While the eclipse on the UK mainland was deepest in Cornwall, I took my chances on the Isle of Wight, just off the coast of southern England.
Amateur astrophotography has been revolutionized over the last few years thanks to specialized high-sensitivity astronomical CMOS cameras, but I’m an old-school visual observer and recorded the eclipse sequence using 20-year-old equipment.
The montage presented here contains 36 frames spanning the entire eclipse sequence and packs in a wealth of physics. Besides the obvious relative motion of the Earth, Moon and Sun, three sunspot groups are visible, approximately delineating the solar equator; the camera was aligned with the sunspot groups and the equatorial mount maintained this orientation.
The Moon’s sharp-edged silhouette is a reminder that it has no atmosphere, whereas the Sun is brighter in the centre than the edge. Known as “limb-darkening”, it arises because of the temperature gradient of the tenuous solar photosphere – and is a reminder that the perceived edge of the Sun is merely a wavelength-dependent opacity transition.
While we often describe the Sun as yellow, the transmission profile with the OD5 solar filter that I used here gives it a slightly silvery-blue tinge. But as the Sun sank lower in the sky during the evening, wavelength-dependent extinction and scattering reddened the light, so the silvery disc progressively turns distinctly yellow and then orange.
Along with the colour change, the solar disc takes on an oblate form in the final row of frames due to differential atmospheric refraction close to the horizon. Terrestrial clouds close to the local horizon are seen in the final frame.
For many people viewing an eclipse for the first time, talk of intersecting orbital planes is perhaps already too much physics for one evening, but for those who wish to look a little deeper, more questions – and more physics – pop up the closer you look. What have you spotted in the montage that I haven’t?
The technical stuff
I took these images using a portable 90 mm diameter Maksutov-Cassegrain telescope (a Meade ETX-90) on an equatorial mount with a battery-powered drive, a full-aperture glass OD5 solar filter, and a 25 mm focal-length eyepiece paired in eyepiece-projection mode with a 5 megapixel Sony Cyber-shot CCD digital camera.
The camera was set for manual operation: minimum ISO (100), minimum aperture (f/5.6), fixed focus (achieved at f/2.8), and manually adjusted exposure time (1/400 – 1/13 s). Image processing was minimal, conducted using ImageJ software, which is widely used in biomedical imaging.
Shadowing of the sensor by dust on the lens surfaces was partially corrected by dividing through by a normalized clear-sky exposure. Frames were cropped manually and re-scaled in intensity to compensate for increasing atmospheric absorption as the Sun sank towards the horizon, and for changes of exposure duration.
Newborn and rapidly growing supermassive black holes could be powering the mysterious “little red dots” that litter the early universe. That is the conclusion of an international team of astronomers who have found the best evidence yet for a new kind of object called a “black-hole star”, which appears to be driving a little red dot that existed just 660 million years after the Big Bang.
“A little red dot is an extraordinary object,” says team leader Rohan Naidu, of the University of Hawaii and MIT. “Somewhere within it lies a black-hole star, surrounded by a good old fashioned galaxy.”
When the James Webb Space Telescope (JWST) began observing the distant universe in the summer of 2022, astronomers were astonished to find lots of little red dots. They are highly luminous as one would expect an active black hole to be, but their spectra are odd, looking more like stars with no X-ray emission.
Some astronomers believe little red dots are dense cocoons of gas incubating a growing black hole at their cores. As the black hole accretes gas from the interior of the cocoon, it radiates energy that is absorbed by the cocoon – making it glow brightly. This is similar to how stars shine, the radiation from their core heating their outer layers. Hence these hypothesized objects are dubbed black-hole stars.
Until now, however there had only been circumstantial evidence for this hypothesis. Part of the problem is that in most cases the light from the little red dots mingles with the light from the unresolved host galaxy, clouding the observations.
Miracle or mirage?
Naidu is co-lead of the Mirage or Miracle (MoM) survey. When pushing to high redshifts (further distances) with the JWST, it can be difficult to discern whether a faint red splotch is really a high-redshift galaxy or a cool star in the foreground masquerading as something from the early universe.
Now, MoM has found a black-hole star shining 100 billion times brighter than any known star, and drastically outshining its host galaxy.
Called MoM-BH*-1, the object is incredibly luminous at longer wavelengths, but below the wavelength corresponding to the Balmer series of hydrogen emission there is no light at all. This sudden drop in luminosity is called the Balmer break and is often seen in young stars.
“In MoM-BH*-1 the Balmer break is three to four times stronger than any we’ve seen ever before,” says Naidu. “This feature alone tells us there is something truly singular afoot, and that this is a new kind of astrophysical object.”
Extremely dense cocoon
Simulations modelling the Balmer break and the object’s luminosity strongly suggest that there is a 100,000 solar mass black hole at the centre of MoM-BH*-1, surrounded by an extremely dense cocoon of gas.
“The physics of how its light is being produced by this dense gas cocoon around this black hole is radically different from what we see around us in the local universe,” says Naidu.
If the object is indeed a black-hole star, a salient question is how did the black hole form? Numerous possibilities have been raised, from the direct gravitational collapse of a gas cloud to the merger of a cluster of massive stars.
Naidu favours an explanation involving a supermassive star – an object that could have formed about 150 million years after the Big Bang when the universe was dense with hydrogen and helium. According to many popular models, these conditions spawned stars thousands of times the mass of the Sun.
Recent outburst
Naidu points to the life cycles of the massive stars in the Milky Way, which top out at a few hundred solar masses. Eta Carinae, for example, had an outburst in the 1840s that made it the second brightest star in the sky for several days. The outburst from this 100-solar-mass star left a cocoon of gas called the Homunculus Nebula. A much larger supermassive star could have had a similar outburst and then collapse to a black hole, thereby creating a black hole star.
“In the past few months I’ve seen so much evidence for this, that at this point, it is the main hypothesis that needs to be proved or disproved because the similarities to supermassive stars are uncanny,” says Naidu.
Indeed, it is possible that every supermassive black hole in the universe could be a relic of the very first giant stars created just after the Big Bang. Over time these objects would steadily erode their gaseous cocoon, eating it away from the inside-out while radiation from accretion onto the black hole would blow away the remainder of the cocoon. This is supported by a recent discovery by NASA’s Chandra X-ray Observatory of a little red dot that existed 11.8 billion years ago and from which X-rays are starting to peak through holes in its shredded cocoon.
Naidu is suitably awe-struck by the possibilities, describing how “it’s inspiring to be witnessing the birth of supermassive black holes.”
Multinational missions Ariane 6 is the latest rocket in a long history of launchers – demonstrating the power of multinational co-operation for more than five decades. More than 3000 staff are working at ESA to implement space missions for exploring the universe, protecting our planet or serving our daily life. (Courtesy: ESA)
The European Space Agency (ESA) is globally recognized for its iconic space missions that push the boundaries of science and technology, whether it’s a rendezvous with a comet, landing a probe on Saturn’s giant moon Titan or mapping the stars of the Milky Way in unprecedented detail. But ESA does so much more than these headline-grabbing scientific and exploratory endeavours.
“Space is no longer solely a playground for curious minds,” says Eric Wille, ESA Head of the Opto-Electronics Section. “It’s really important for our everyday life too.” In fact, modern society relies on space technologies.
Project management The ESA Optical Ground Station in Tenerife is used to develop laser technologies for high-speed data links or quantum communication. The laser beam projects a guide star to control an adaptive optics system that improves the beam quality of the optical communication link. It is one of several ESA laboratories managed by Eric Wille and the opto-electronics section for testing optical systems for space. (Courtesy: ESA)
Satellite-based environmental monitoring, weather forecasting and global navigation are obvious examples, but there are many other important applications. For instance, the global financial system could not function without atomic clocks aboard satellites time-stamping millions of stock trades and digital payments every second. Similarly, when natural disasters strike, satellite networks become essential lifelines: mapping floods, tracking wildfires and helping with the co-ordination of emergency response efforts on the ground.
Fulfilling all of these roles and ESA’s bold space ambitions – from seeking answers to big questions about the universe to watching over our precious planet – requires a highly dedicated, technically proficient and multi-skilled workforce made up of scientists, engineers and various other professionals.
Diverse and challenging work
When Wille joined ESA as an optical systems engineer in 2009 after completing his PhD in experimental quantum optics, it was the sheer diversity of challenging work that attracted him. “Working in an international space agency, you’re partly a researcher, partly a project manager, partly also someone with ambassadorial skills,” he says. “That mixture is really something which I found at that time very attractive and I still like today, very much.”
Charlotte Pachot also craved a technically challenging role after her master in optics. She found it at Thales Alenia Space in France as a space engineer working on optical instruments. But after a few years, her interactions with ESA staff through joint projects convinced her to join the Agency as an optical engineer. She is now Lead Payload Engineer for the Laser Interferometer Space Antenna (LISA) mission, intended for launch in 2035, which will be the first gravitational wave detector in space.
Both Wille and Pachot have found that the technically challenging work at ESA is particularly satisfying because it has real-world impact. The first 10 years of Wille’s ESA career were largely spent on Athena (Advanced Telescope for High ENergy Astrophysics; now renamed NewAthena), a powerful X-ray observatory set to launch in the late 2030s that will provide fresh eyes on a wide range of hot and energetic processes in the universe.
Charlotte Pachot is overseeing the LISA optical bench assembly. Next to her is a model of LISA Pathfinder that tested critical technologies in space in 2016. (Courtesy: ESA)
In this role, Wille and the ESA team collaborated with an industrial consortium led by Dutch measuring instrument supplier cosine to develop a completely new type of optics, called silicon pore optics. Using techniques perfected by the semiconductor industry, cosine bonded and stacked many silicon plates on top of each other. By shaping the plates, a lightweight mirror to focus X-rays was created; in fact, 10 times lighter than the ones flying on current X-ray missions XMM-Newton and the Chandra X-ray Observatory.
Like Athena, LISA will also provide fresh eyes on cosmic events, but through the unique prism of gravitational waves. This will be achieved through a completely new approach involving a triangle of three satellites spaced 2.5 million kilometres apart.
Understandably, LISA calls for a unique optical bench, which Pachot is managing from design to manufacturing and testing. She sees her role as being like that of a conductor of an orchestra: a lot of her time is spent co-ordinating team members and partners, while also helping to solve technical, budget and schedule problems. For Pachot, tackling these daily friction points is part and parcel of working on real-world big science. “The instruments are very complex technically, very challenging, but they are also real pieces of hardware as part of a real project,” she says.
International community
As Wille and Pachot’s stories show, ESA selects talent from different career stages. The Agency offers several programmes that support students, graduates and experienced professionals in finding the right role for their profile and interests.
Device testing Lasers are used in many different space applications. Igniting launchers, high-speed optical communication, LIDARs for atmospheric measurements or for measuring gravity waves with LISA. The opto-electronics laboratory at ESTEC is frequently used to characterize the lifetime and performance of high-power diode lasers.(Courtesy: ESA)
For example, university students can benefit from ESA Academy sponsorship, such as participating in hands-on projects or training sessions. They can also join ESA as interns. Graduates can apply to ESA’s Graduate Trainee Programmes where they can gain experience on actual ESA projects and develop technical and professional skills. And for those currently in industry with less than three years’ experience, the Junior Professional Programme allows them to join ESA as staff members for four years and benefit from tailored learning and development opportunities to prepare them for a long-term position.
Whichever pathway they take, once new recruits get started in their first role, an excellent employment package – including competitive salary and pension scheme, hybrid working and flexible hours, and professional development training opportunities – comes as standard.
Eric Wille inspecting a new X-ray mirror using stacked silicon plates. The mirror was assembled using an automated stacking robot partially visible in the foreground. (Courtesy: ESA)
What sets ESA apart is the multicultural work environment. Team members might come from any of ESA’s 23 Member States and nine further Cooperating States and Associate Members. And recruits can be based in more than nine locations in seven countries (France, Germany, the Netherlands, Italy, Belgium, Spain and the UK). This makes for a melting pot of cultures.
“There’s a very lively expat community,” says Wille. “At the European Space Research and Technology Centre (ESTEC) and other big sites, it’s like a small Europe.” This cultural diversity is of course intentional. “The problems we have to solve require teamwork,” says Pachot. “And this is made easier at ESA because we all see problems in a different way depending on our culture.”
Working life at ESA
Want to learn more about working at ESA? Take a look at life at ESA and what ESA offers. Quickly find out which programme could be the best fit for you by following the pathways to ESA on this flowchart.
The first direct glimpse of vacuum birefringence has been claimed by astronomers who have studied X-ray and radio emissions of a neutron star that is both a magnetar and a pulsar. A central, but unconfirmed prediction of quantum electrodynamics (QED), vacuum birefringence involves the polarization of the quantum vacuum by powerful magnetic fields.
Made by a US-led international team, the observation could lead to the use of magnetars as natural laboratories to study other extreme-field phenomena of the quantum vacuum. However, another group headed by researchers in Italy remains unconvinced that the data constitute a “smoking gun” for vacuum birefringence. They believe that alternative explanations remain viable.
Birefringence occurs when the refractive index of a medium depends on the polarization of the radiation passing through it. When refraction occurs at such a medium, there is an angular separation of the two differently-polarized waves. This occurs with certain crystals such as calcite and lithium niobate, where the anisotropic lattice structure interacts differently with oppositely polarized photons. Birefringence can also arise from the interaction of photons with magnetic fields in plasma.
Virtual pairs
A key prediction of QED – first made in 1935 by Werner Heisenberg and Hans Euler – is that sufficiently strong magnetic fields can make a vacuum birefringent by polarizing the virtual electron–positron pairs that fluctuate in and out of existence. Ninety years on, however, vacuum birefringence had not been observed because the huge fields required cannot be generated in the laboratory.
“Having a natural lab already existing that could look into some of these effects is something that would be very beneficial,” says astronomer Rachel Stewart of George Washington University in the US. “That’s something people have probably been looking into for decades.”
Stewart and colleagues’ natural lab is a magnetar. These objects comprise a rare subtype of neutron star that have extreme magnetic fields of up to 1011 T. This makes magnetars the most magnetic objects observed in the universe and bright sources of X-rays. Data from NASA’s Imaging X-ray Polarimetry Explorer (IXPE) telescope have shown that this radiation is often polarized.
This is not surprising because the surface of a magnetar is likely to be surrounded by magnetized, birefringent plasma. The plasma’s field, however, should be tangled and variable, so the net polarization imprinted on light emitted into the far field should be relatively small.
Magnetic axis
If the magnetar’s intense magnetic field polarizes the vacuum of empty space, then the birefringence polarization imprinted onto the X-rays should follow the orientation of the magnetic poles into the far field as the magnetar rotates. Disentangling the two effects is difficult, however, because it is not generally possible to ascertain the orientation of the magnetic poles with respect to the direction of our observation.
A very few magnetars, however, are also pulsars that emit narrow beams of radio waves from their magnetic poles. The magnetic and rotational poles of a pulsar are misaligned, which causes the radio beam to sweep around like a lighthouse beam. If Earth happens to be in the path of the beam, we observe radio pulses.
In the new research, Stewart and colleagues observed the magnetar 1E 1547.0−5408, which is unique among observed objects for having persistent, bright radio emission alongside its X-ray emission. They combined observations from two space-based X-ray telescopes – IXPE and the Neutron Star Interior Composition Explorer (NICER) – with radio observations from Australia’s Murriyang telescope.
The radio observations allowed the team to the work out the angle between the magnetar’s magnetic and rotational poles and the angle between the rotational pole and the direction of our observation. This gave them the information needed to disentangle the two birefringence effects.
Large polarization
The researchers found a high degree of polarization in the detected X-rays – up to 80% at photon energies 2–3 keV in energy. They point out that this high degree of polarization is consistent with vacuum birefringence being driven by the magnetar’s powerful field.
The X-ray emission is closely aligned with the radio emission, which the researchers believe is naturally explained by the magnetic poles of the star being closely aligned with the rotational poles – and difficult to reconcile with alternative explanations.
However, another recent paper challenges this interpretation. Roberto Taverna of the University of Padova in Italy, who led the work, says that pairing the radio emission data with the X-ray observations was “very smart”, but he says that “it is not obvious to me whether the two observations – the radio and the X-rays – are compatible or not.” He says that, if the X-ray emission all emerged from one small region such as a hotspot slightly away from the radio polarization axis, the X-ray radiation would be polarized in the absence of vacuum birefringence. As a result he does not believe the observation is a “smoking gun”.
George Younes of NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center in Maryland – part of the US group – argues that Taverna and colleagues are “ignoring about 60 years of radio pulsar science…They are hiding behind the fact that magnetars are different from pulsars, so we don’t know exactly where the radio emission comes from and all results are on the table,” he says, “but there are fundamentals that we should not ignore.”
The US-led team is now investigating further to see whether they can find more evidence for vacuum birefringence. Nuclear astrophysicist Hoa Dinh Thi of Rice University in Texas, who led the theoretical effort, is now modelling QED effects of magnetism on radiation in the plasma. “In the far future we also plan to use machine learning in the model so we can explore the different sources together and understand better the properties of neutron stars and magnetars.”
The image shows the Helix Nebula, a bright ring of gas that is located 650 light-years from Earth in the constellation Aquarius.
Resembling a giant human eye, its familiar ring formed from material expelled by a star near the end of its life. The remnant of that star, a white dwarf, lies at the nebula’s centre.
Astronomers trained the Modular Optical Telephoto Hyperspectral Robotic Array (MOTHRA) on the nebula while it was still being constructed at the El Sauce Observatory in Chile’s Coquimbo Region.
When complete later this year, MOTHRA will use 1,140 high-end telephoto lenses and filters that function as a giant 4.8-m aperture refractor telescope to detect the extremely faint glow of gas across large swaths of the sky.
In the image above, the MOTHRA data are shown in black and were collected in November 2025 using 190 or so lenses. These have been combined with previous observations made by the Hubble Space Telescope and the Kitt Peak 4 m telescope, which are shown in colour.
The MOTHRA data reveal a collection of 22 complete or partial arc-shaped glowing shock waves on the eastern side of the nebula.
Dubbed bow shocks, the waves resemble those that form in front of a boat moving through water. In the Helix Nebula, mostly invisible clumps of stellar debris dart rapidly through the thin gas among stars. The glowing bow shocks mark where those clumps collided with the surrounding gas.
By studying the image, astronomers traced the star’s debris as it is stripped, broken apart and gradually mixed into interstellar space.
“We are seeing material shed near the end of a star’s life being broken apart and returned to the galaxy,” notes Yale University astronomer Pieter van Dokkum, who led the study. “That handoff – from recognizable stellar debris to the diffuse gas between the stars – has been very difficult to observe.”
All scientific inquiry involves some kind of uncertainty, but the uncertainties in cosmology are particularly daunting. As well as being complex and difficult to describe, the systems cosmologists investigate are almost by definition out of reach. In these conditions of uncertainty, how confident can we be in the models we’ve built? How can we come to know how galaxies form, how the universe began or how much dark matter it contains?
In The Random Universe: How Models and Probability Help us Make Sense of the Cosmos, cosmologist and astrophysicist Andrew Jaffe offers a masterful and refreshing take on these questions. As the director of the Centre for Inference and Cosmology at Imperial College London, UK, and a past co-investigator on ESA’s Planck satellite that provided us with so much new information about the cosmos, Jaffe is well-equipped to walk readers through the tools that allow us to learn about the world despite its uncertainties. Anchoring his insights in beautifully narrated episodes from the history of physics, astrophysics and cosmology, he sheds light on how our theories of the universe evolved into our current best cosmological model – which nonetheless still has limitations.
Jaffe is particularly good at recounting how we refined, revised and even replaced some of our assumptions in light of incoming evidence such as the first measurements of stellar distance; the discovery of galaxies beyond our own; and precise measurements of cosmological parameters. Throughout this journey, he engages thoughtfully with a rich philosophical tradition that runs from David Hume in the 18th century through Willard Van Orman Quine, Imre Lakatos and Paul Feyerabend in the 20th.
Bayes’ theorem is important because it tells us how to update our degree of belief in light of new evidence
The book’s main protagonist, though, is the mathematician Thomas Bayes. For Jaffe, Bayesian probability is key to dealing with uncertainty, and even to solving Hume’s notorious problem of induction: how do we justify inferences from a finite set of observations to generalizations that go beyond them? Bayes’ theorem is important, Jaffe argues, because it tells us how to update our degree of belief in light of new evidence. It shows us why and how, even in an uncertain world, “the more observations we make, the surer we become”.
Of course, before we can use probability to deal with uncertainty, we first need a model. As Jaffe puts it, “Absent a model, I can’t assign a probability, and absent a probability, I can’t quantify my uncertainty about the world.” So, what exactly is a model? I found Jaffe’s answer to be one of the most captivating elements of the book. As the title of a subsection of chapter five puts it, “a model is a story about the world”. Without models, Jaffe tells us, our world would be an unexplained series of unrelated events. Models are also what allow us to take a finite set of data and use it to create something new. Without this leap, Jaffe suggests, we cannot learn anything about the world, because “you can’t make sense of an experimental result unless you have some model to interpret it”.
Of course, if the way we interpret data depends on our model, then different people may well obtain different interpretations depending on which model and which prior probability they choose. This charge of subjectivity is a longstanding accusation against Bayesians, but Jaffe offers at least a partial solution: “If you and I agree on the model, we should assign the same probability.” This, Jaffe argues, is where objectivity emerges, writing that “we come to the same conclusions if we start from the same premises”.
Models allow us to understand the world by bridging subjectivity with objectivity, and the personal with the collective
Many contemporary philosophers are at odds with the idealized view of science as an objective and linear enterprise that produces theories from a God’s-eye view. Instead, they strive to portray it as something that is social and human, but reliable nonetheless. Jaffe’s own views seem to align with this endeavour; as he puts it, “the scientific coupling of models and observations is a living, breathing, subjective endeavour, simultaneously collective and personal”. Through their interplay with data, he argues, models allow us to understand the world by bridging subjectivity with objectivity, and the personal with the collective.
Not everyone will agree with Jaffe that Bayesian probability offers a solution to Hume’s problem of induction. Personally, I (or perhaps the hardcore rationalist in me) was not convinced. Nevertheless, I found the book’s thesis – that uncertainty is not a hindrance to knowledge, but an opportunity to learn (and learn more) about the world – simultaneously liberating, humbling and empowering. I recommend The Random Universe to scientists, philosophers and anyone interested in better understanding the role of probability in science; the philosophical problems with how we handle uncertainty; and how our standard cosmological model came to be. I also hope it will encourage more collaborations between philosophers and scientists. There are many questions we can explore further if we work together.
The Sun’s visible surface – the photosphere – is a thin layer of its atmosphere where the fluid plasma becomes transparent. This region is known to be dynamic and complex, with factors such as magnetic field and convection currents shaping the atmosphere.
The studied region by the astronomers is a magnetically active area close to a sunspot. In the image, the solar surface appears dominated by band-like and vortex-like structures.
The authors associate these features with Kelvin-Helmholtz instabilities, a well-known effect in fluid dynamics in which rippled structures form when two fluids slide past each other at different speeds.
This generates shear forces at the interface, causing minute disturbances to grow into wave- or vortex-like flows.
The vortices occur at the edges of so-called granules, which densely cover the Sun’s visible surface and measure between 500 and 2000 km in diameter.
Some of these “fringes” are little more than 20 km wide and resolving these structures is comparable to discerning a €1 coin from a distance of 180 km.
The findings provide the first known confirmation of Kelvin-Helmholtz instabilities on the Sun and researchers suggest that the instability might explain why the Sun’s outer atmosphere gets so hot, and why magnetic energy builds up and moves around the surface.
“The newly discovered plasma vortices impressively demonstrate how minute processes – at the limit of what we can resolve using all available techniques – significantly determine the nature of our star,” notes Sami Solanki, director of the Max Planck Institute for Solar System Research in Göttingen, Germany.
Science is often easier to learn and understand when its abstract ideas are presented through the lens of our everyday world. Indeed, a key challenge for science teachers is to make the subject as interesting as possible to students, usually by showing its applications to real-world problems. As a former college lecturer turned science journalist, Trisha Muro is very well suited to this task.
To introduce her new book It’s (Just) Rocket Science: Exploring Physics Through Spaceflight Missions, Muro recalls how, while teaching high-school physics, she had a student drop out of her course because they “thought it would be more like ‘story’ physics”. Muro wasn’t exactly sure what the student meant, but the phrase stuck with her over the years, eventually leading her to write this book. Within its pages, Muro presents quintessential physics concepts in the context of spaceflight. She touches upon everything from the Apollo space programme to the Mars rovers, to provide the narrative aspect that makes abstract science relatable.
I’d argue that rather than story, the examples she uses in the book are more like case studies, as there is not much of a continuing narrative. Indeed, I couldn’t help but wonder if by “story”, Muro’s student meant science-fiction physics rather than real-life examples, but that’s semantics. What Muro has written is a very effective guide to all manner of basic physics that draws upon all her experience as a physics teacher and all her skills as a science writer.
In It’s (Just) Rocket Science, each chapter features an interview with one or two scientists (refreshingly, mostly women) providing insights into how the missions that they work on employ physics. There are some clear and concise explanations and neat analogies throughout. Muro provides a treatise on general relativity by highlighting the Hubble Space Telescope’s observations of gravitational lensing. She also includes a fascinating explanation of momentum via the physics of NASA’s DART mission, which impacted and deflected the little asteroid Dimorphos. Muro’s description of the electromagnetic spectrum is aided by discussions about interplanetary radio communications, the spectroscopic measurements of Venus that the forthcoming DAVINCI mission will make, and the X-ray vision of the Chandra Observatory.
The chapters I enjoyed best were in part two of the book where, as a self-confessed Space Cadet, Muro talks about how she attended a NASA Space Camp in the 1980s. (She is donating 100% of the proceeds from this book towards funding scholarships for children to attend the camp too.) In this section, Muro takes us through the science of rocket launches and landing on other worlds. She explains how the balance of forces as described by Newton’s laws of motion will enable NASA’s Dragonfly helicopter mission to fly on Saturn’s moon Titan. I especially liked the ice-skating analogy that Muro used to describe gravitational slingshots. Imagine two ice skaters, one being yourself and the other a champion speed skater, writes Muro. You get a head start, then the speed skater races up alongside you, takes your hand just for a moment and then lets you go, giving you an energy boost.
Muro gets through an impressive amount of science in a short space – the first 50 pages alone are full of heavy topics such as Kepler’s laws of orbital motion, planetary transits, exoplanet science, Lagrange points, gravitation, the three-body problem, general and special relativity, the concept of space–time, the speed of light, the Doppler effect, and even an equation or two. Phew! That’s a lot of science, and while at times it might feel dense to the uninitiated, at no point is it too confusing or impenetrable for the science or space enthusiast.
Muro’s willingness to include equations (there are even two interludes featuring derivations) reminds us of her teaching background. I found it refreshing to see maths presented front and centre when most popular-science books shy away from it, in an attempt not to lose readers. In this book, the maths isn’t complex and it is crucial in showing us why various physical laws work the way that they do.
One small issue for me was Muro’s decision to incorporate both imperial and metric units, which made for some confusing reading. In some instances, she mixes the systems in the same sentence – for example, giving a distance in kilometres followed by a weight in pounds, or a speed in miles per hour followed by energy in joules. Muro comments in the chapter about momentum and the DART mission that she has been using both systems to help readers become more comfortable with them. However, if the conversions between imperial and metric are not going to be given, then I’m not sure she really succeeds at making people more comfortable using metric.
If I were to nitpick further, I’d point out that when Muro strays from straight physics and engineering to astrophysics, some mistakes do crop up. These include stating that objects in the early universe are “red” because they have been cooling for billions of years. What is really happening is we are seeing them as they were long ago and their colour is the product of cosmological redshift, not temperature. Another is implying that gravitational waves are what cause the orbits of asteroids and comets to be perturbed. This ignores the fact that gravitational interaction from the planets, particularly Jupiter, is the dominant influence. However, these errors do not detract from the otherwise clear and correct explanations of the physics, which are easy to read and pitched perfectly for students below university level.
Overall, It’s (Just) Rocket Science is an excellent book that turns abstract physics into something more relevant. With the popularity of the recent Artemis II mission, the book’s focus on space missions will hopefully help it find an audience who will really take all that Muro has to teach on board.
2026 Johns Hopkins University Press £25.50 hb 384pp