New studies of the oldest light and sound in the cosmos suggest novel physics—rather than systematic errors—could explain an unsolved scientific mystery.
In the swirling sea of thousands of people who contribute to a major particle physics experiment, how can a young physicist pop to the surface and get noticed? An international committee offers ideas.
This doodle pad was used by Columbia University researcher Tsung-Dao (T.D.) Lee during talks with Chen Ning (Frank) Yang, while they were visiting scientists at Brookhaven National Laboratory in the summer of 1956.
Whereas matter on Earth and in stars is made of atoms and nuclei, scientists know that dark matter must be made of something else. Neutralinos are a prime candidate.
At SLAC's Linear Café, a potato doesn't just go on your fork. It is your fork. The cafeteria began a green initiative about five months ago, abandoning traditional plastic spoons and plates in favor of biodegradable counterparts.
Behind every big breakthrough is a series of small steps that build on each other to enhance our understanding of the universe. At Fermilab's Tevatron Collider, physicists have been telling the unfolding story of their experiments in weekly installments for more than five years.
Bluish lights flash on a grassy field, like giant fireflies angling for mates—sometimes a single flash, sometimes a ripple of light moving fast, as if suitors have given chase. Then all 16 lights flash at once, and the whole field glows.
The familiar elements of the Periodic Table come in a number of forms, or isotopessome found only fleetingly in the most violent events, such as exploding stars.