In 1929, Edwin Hubble made
an alarming discovery.
He found that wherever
he pointed his telescope,
it revealed that everything
was getting further away.
The universe seemed to be expanding,
and if it was expanding -
they checked and it was -
and you think about it for any
length of time, which they did,
you have to conclude that it must be
expanding from some kind
of starting point.
Hubble had stumbled across what was
then a revolutionary idea,
but something that is now
scientific orthodoxy.
Our universe started 13.8 billion
years ago in an instant.
ALL: This was the first period of
the birth of the universe.
It is known as the Big Bang.
Nowadays, our understanding
of the birth of the universe is
extremely detailed.
Then it underwent
a dramatic expansion.
ALL: This was the second
period in the birth of the universe.
It is called inflation.
Thanks to science, we think
we know exactly how we got to now.
BOTH: Atomic matter condensed
to form the stars
and planets that make our universe.
ALL: This is the standard
model of cosmology.
And not content with painting
the biggest picture of all,
science has also created
a comprehensive list
of what the atoms we're
made from, are made from.
There are six quarks.
ALL: Four types of gauge bosons.
ALL: Six leptons.
And the Higgs boson.
ALL: This is the standard
model of particle physics.
Together, these two paradigms
should explain everything.
And yet, just at the point where
things seem to be coming together,
some researchers are worried that
there's an increasingly
strong possibility that we might
have got the science wrong.
That our current theories
are looking shaky.
That we don't understand
our universe
or what we're made of,
or anything, really.
How does any theorist sleep at night
knowing that the standard
model of particle physics is off by
so many orders of magnitude?
We have no idea
what 95% of the universe is.
It hardly seems that we
understand everything.
This is about what the
universe is made of.
This is about our existence.
What is it that they say? They say
that cosmologists are always wrong
but never in doubt.
There are more theories than
there are theoreticians.
OK, I'm going to be honest here,
but we're in the strange situation
that it seems like every other year
there's a new unexplained signal.
Maybe we're just going to have to
scratch our heads
and start all over again.
Nestling beneath the huge
Andes Mountains that dominate
the whole of Chile lies its capital.
It was founded by the Conquistadors
in 1541, who gave it its name,
Santiago, St James, after the
patron saint of the motherland.
But in Spanish, Iago also means
Jacob, and it was Jacob who,
according to the Bible, dreamt
about climbing a ladder to heaven.
While the mountains may
hint at a metaphorical stairway
to paradise, they also provide
a practical route to enlightenment.
That's why British astrophysicist
Bob Nichol is here.
He's en route to some of the biggest
telescopes on the planet,
perched aloft on the roof
of the world, where he's continuing
the work of trying to understand
how the universe works.
So the amazing thing about cosmology
is that it only really started
in the 1920s, so when people started
looking through their telescopes,
they didn't know whether these fuzzy
things out there in the universe
were actually within our own galaxy
or actually separate galaxies from
our own. And then it was the great
astronomers like Hubble that came
along and measured the distances to
these faint nebulae that you
could see in your telescopes, and
suddenly discovered that they were
much further away than we expected
and therefore had to be outside
our galaxy and therefore discovered
a universe of other galaxies.
The discovery of a universe that was
far more complicated
than anyone could have imagined...
..and the idea that it all
started in an instant...
..suddenly provided a credible
creation story
that didn't rely on myths and magic.
The idea of the Big Bang
and the expanding universe was
a triumph for modern astronomy.
And everyone was happy with it,
until 1974, when astronomers
discovered a big problem.
So in the solar system,
we have a sun in the middle, which
provides all the gravity.
And then coming further out from
that, we have all the planets.
They're lined up
and rotate around the sun,
and the speed by which they
go round the sun decreases
as a function of the
distance away from the sun.
So by the time you
get to the outer planets,
they are moving a lot slower than
the ones in the centre.
So, for example, Neptune takes 165
Earth years to go round the sun.
So if I was to draw a graph of
that, it would look a bit like this.
So...
..you would expect the speed
of the planets in the centre to be
high, and as the gravity got weaker,
the speed would get smaller
and smaller and smaller
until you got out here.
Now, we have the same
set-up in our galaxy.
We have a large supermassive
black hole in the centre
and we have stars orbiting
around the centre of the galaxy.
So you'd expect that the stars
further away from the centre
of the galaxy would be moving slower
than the ones on the inside.
But that's not what we see.
What we see is the speed of the
stars is constant with distance,
so the stars out here
are travelling at the same
speed as the stars in the centre.
Wherever the speed of stars
in spiral galaxies were measured,
they produced the logic-defying
flat rotation curves.
The only way they made sense was
if there was more matter than
we thought, producing more gravity.
And since the extra stuff
couldn't be seen, it was given
the slightly sinister title
"dark matter".
Dark matter is a really
interesting problem.
It sounds exotic, but
it doesn't have to be.
Professor Katie Freese is
a theoretical physicist.
That is to say, the physics
she deals with is theoretical.
Katie herself is real.
There's a lot of dark things out
there in the universe.
Until I shine my light at these
bottles, I can't see them
and as soon as I take away
the light, they're dark.
That's what people thought. They
thought it might be gas,
it might be dust.
The dark matter could just be
ordinary stuff that you can't see.
These ordinary, but dark, dark
matter creatures are called MACHOs -
massive compact halo objects.
But the trouble was that even
the most generous
estimates for how much the MACHOs
might weigh fell pathetically
short of what would be needed to
explain the strange
goings-on in spiral galaxies
like ours.
Another explanation was required.
Well, there's an alternative idea
for what the dark matter could be.
What we think it is, is that it's
some new kind of fundamental
particle. Not neutrons, not protons,
not ordinary atomic stuff
but something entirely new.
And these particles are
everywhere in the universe.
They're flying around in our galaxy,
they're in this room.
Actually, there would be billions
going through you every second.
You don't notice, but they're there.
These theoretical dark matter
candidates are called WIMPs -
weakly interacting
massive particles.
But because they interact weakly
with ordinary matter,
the stuff from which we and
scientific instruments are made,
catching them is about
as straightforward
as trapping water in a sieve.
In fact, in the early days of dark
matter, these particles were
so theoretical that no-one had any
idea at all about how
they might get hold of one,
even in theory.
Then, in 1983, freshly minted
theoretical physicist
Katie Freese had an epiphany.
I was at a winter
school in Jerusalem
and that's where I got into
the dark matter business.
I met a man named Andre Drukier.
He's a brilliant, eccentric person.
He's Polish,
he speaks English, French,
German, Polish,
all at the same time.
And he knew where to
go for the New Year's party.
And he started, believe it or not,
in that evening,
over the cocktails -
cocktails have always been
good for science -
started telling me about
work that he'd been doing.
Drukier had hit upon a way of
detecting neutrinos, real particles
that share some characteristics
with the proposed WIMPs.
So what we realised is you could
use exactly that same
technique for WIMPs.
WIMPs have the same
kind of interactions,
they have the weak interactions,
the same ones that the neutrinos do.
I, at the time, was a post-doc
at Harvard and I convinced
Andre to come to Harvard for
a few months. And there, we also
worked with David Spergel, and the
three of us wrote down some of the
basic ideas for what you might do
if you wanted to detect the WIMPs.
WIMPs, the particles that could
be dark matter, are like ghosts.
They travel through ordinary matter.
But they are particles,
so every once in a while,
one of them
should collide with
the nucleus of an atom, in theory.
What's more, the theoretical
collision should release
a photon, a tiny flash of light -
dark matter detected.
Simple, in theory.
If you were to try to build one of
these experiments on a table top
or in a laboratory on the
surface of the Earth,
then your signal would be completely
swamped by cosmic rays.
These would just ruin your attempt
to do the experiment,
because the count rate from the
cosmic rays would be so high
that you'd never be
able to see the WIMPs.
So what you have to do
is go underground.
It is because of the ideas that
Katie had in the 1980s that
thousands of scientists have
been scurrying underground
in search of the dark ever since.
Juan Collar is one of them.
His search for dark matter has
taken him to Sudbury, a small
town in Canada, perched just above
the North American Great Lakes.
To look at it now,
you wouldn't think that this place
owes its existence to
one of the most catastrophic
events the world has ever witnessed.
Millions of years ago, a gigantic
comet crashed into what is
now Sudbury, creating, to date,
the second largest crater on Earth.
The comet brought with it
lots of useful metals that ended up
under what became
known as the Sudbury Basin.
When humans became clever enough,
they sunk holes into the crater
so they could get the metals out.
The area's nickel mines
are responsible for, amongst other
things, the town of Sudbury's main
tourist attraction, the Big Nickel.
What they're less well
known for is the part
they play in the search
for dark matter.
Juan and his colleagues
regularly make the two-kilometre
descent into the darkness in pursuit
of the universe's missing mass.
He's been making
the journey for some time.
How long have you been doing
experiments underground?
In my case, since 1986.
It's been a while.
So you haven't found anything yet?
No.
Do you ever feel like giving up?
Well, after walking a mile
underground like this...
This is not the right time to ask me
that question, don't you think?
There's ups and downs,
of course, but, yeah.
Every so often you have to
wonder about the fact that we may be
looking in the wrong place, right?
But someone has to do that job.
I mean, in physics a negative
result is also important.
You close a door,
and then we can get to work looking
for other possibilities.
The scientists are heading
for an underground
laboratory in which it is hoped
that the super-shy dark matter
particle may one day show its face.
Because anything brought
in from the outside world could
give off radiation that might look
a bit like dark matter,
every trace must be
removed before entering the lab.
No-one is allowed
near the ultra-sensitive detectors
without being thoroughly cleaned
and given a special
non-radiating outfit to wear.
Here in this near-clinically clean
environment is a bewildering
collection of experiments,
some of them several storeys tall,
all designed to catch dark
matter in the act of existence.
Most of the experiments intend to
record the hoped-for
flash of light, produced
when WIMPs collide with atoms.
But Juan's experiment
works in a totally different way.
Juan has decided to listen, rather
than look, for dark matter.
So, Peter, this is the
inner vessel of Pico-2-L,
what we call this project.
And it goes inside that big
recompression chamber.
We have cameras that look inside
and the principle of operation
of this detector is the following -
we put a liquid in there that is
a rather special liquid. It's what
we call a super-heated liquid.
It makes it sensitive to radiation,
so when particles like the liquid
that goes in there normally - it's
now empty - they produce bubbles.
The number of bubbles tells us
about the nature of the particle
that interacted.
You can see these copper things
here. These are electric sensors.
They are very sophisticated
microphones and through sound
we are actually able
to distinguish...
differentiate between different
types of particles as well.
What sound would dark matter make?
It's actually very soft.
It's not the loudest.
So if you find a WIMP
it'll have a wimpy noise?
Very wimpy indeed, yes.
Juan has scaled up this
idea in his latest detector.
Because a bigger detector
means a greater hit rate.
Assuming, of course, that there's
anything doing the hitting.
So this is 260.
It's a much larger bubble chamber,
about 30 times larger
in active volume than
the one we were looking at before.
We explore the same principle.
We listen to the
sound of particles, etc.
It's just a much bigger version.
In some of the models they have
developed for these dark matter
particles, the rate of interaction
is as small as one interaction,
one bubble in our case, per
tonne of material per year, or less.
Confident?
Confident? Not really.
You do your job the best you can
and then you hope
for the best, but...
..nobody knows if there's WIMPs
out there or not. We're trying.
But confidence is not something that
you typically find among
experimentalists.
The fact is, though, that
though the hunt for dark matter has
so far proved to be the world's
least productive experiment,
the world's large telescopes are
providing increasing evidence that
the elusive WIMPs, whatever they
are, really are the dark matter.
This array forms one of the world's
largest telescopes.
In fact, its name is the VLT -
the Very Large Telescope.
We're in the Atacama Desert in Chile,
at the top of a big mountain at the
European Southern Observatory,
so there are four massive telescopes
that we use to stare
into deep space
and they give us
even more information
on the dark matter that
fills our universe.
The Very Large Telescope has
produced some staggering images,
but perhaps one of the most
compelling is this one.
This image shows a large
cluster of galaxies.
Such large objects can bend light
of the galaxies that are behind it.
We call this technique
gravitational lensing.
These arcs are distant galaxies
behind the cluster
that have been brightened
and stretched
as the light passes through
the cluster and gets bent.
And what's very interesting
is this technique
allows us to measure
the mass of the lens,
and when we do that
using these arcs,
we find the mass of the lens
is about 100 times more
than the light we see in this image.
But second of all,
and more importantly,
it tells us that the dark matter
that we can't see
is more distributed and acts as
a dark matter cloud of particles.
So this is conclusive evidence
of dark matter,
but it also is conclusive evidence
that that dark matter
must be more spread out than
the galaxies we see here,
and in fact it tells us it has to be
a cloud of dark matter particles,
not just individual objects
in the cluster.
So here's the thing.
Dark matter has to have mass.
Remember, that's the reason it has
to be there in the first place -
all those speeding stars.
And it seems that
it's not just matter we can't
see because it's not shining.
So it has to be some
kind of other stuff
that we can't see by definition.
And more than that, it has to be
some kind of material
that's capable of clumping together
in something like a gas.
And all this adds up to one thing -
we're looking for a new particle.
And when it comes to new particles,
there's really only one place
to come - Switzerland...
and France.
This place might look
like a third-rate
provincial technical college,
but if the hunt for dark matter
has taught us nothing else,
it has shown that a book should
never be judged by its cover.
And so it is with this place,
because beneath
the dismal architecture
lies the most exciting piece of
scientific apparatus ever created.
This is CERN, the world's
biggest physics lab,
home to the Large Hadron Collider,
the largest particle accelerator
on the planet.
It's here where scientists
investigate what stuff is made of...
by smashing it apart.
Protons are fired around its
27-kilometre-long circular tube
in opposite directions
at nearly the speed of light,
before being smashed together.
EXPLOSION
Waiting to trawl through the debris
resulting from those collisions
are two-thirds of the world's
particle physicists.
One of them is Dave from Birmingham.
He is in charge of
one of the huge detectors
which record each
and every collision.
I have to admit, I come
down here a few times a week
and pretty much every time I come in,
my jaw still drops when
I see ATLAS in front of me.
I mean, it's incredible that
we built this detector
and that we're able to operate it.
So the whole detector itself
is about eight or nine storeys tall,
and so we're about
halfway up at the moment,
so four or five storeys
above the base of the detector.
The total weight of the detector
is about 7,000 tonnes,
which is about the same as
the weight of the Eiffel Tower.
While it might weigh the same,
the ATLAS detector
shares few other characteristics
with Paris's most famous flagpole.
Fitted with 100 million detectors,
it produces the equivalent
of a digital photograph
40 million times a second,
providing Dave and his team
with a permanent record
of the precise nature
of each particle's demise.
When the protons collide,
most of the time the particles
they produce... Nearly always
some new particles are created,
but they tend to be
low-mass particles so they tend
to be the familiar quarks,
the familiar hadrons, the protons,
the neutrons, pions,
which are also light hadrons.
But sometimes, very rarely,
you produce these much
more massive particles,
and that's where we're looking for.
So if we are producing
Higgs particles or we're producing
even more massive particles -
which would be ones
we don't know about,
they would be ones beyond
the standard model -
these are the guys that
we're really looking for.
The LHC has been switched off for
two years while it's been upgraded.
Now it's been switched on again
and will run at twice
the energy it did before.
It might be that more
new particles might emerge.
If they do, they could well be
the elusive WIMPs,
one of which could well be
the dark matter.
The idea is that we're looking for
imbalances of momentum in the event
that signify that there are
unobserved particles
going off with high energy
carried out of the detector.
So what you're actually seeing is
an absence of something?
What we're seeing is
an absence of something,
an imbalance of something, yes. It's
some particles that we can't observe
and we can infer that they're there
by looking at the rest of the event.
So that's beautiful, isn't it?
That you can find dark matter
which you can't by definition see
and you discover it by
not seeing it? Exactly, yes.
On the face of it,
this is an extraordinary,
not to say logically
contradictory idea,
that ordinary matter
smashes into itself
to produce invisible matter
that can't readily be detected
because it only interacts weakly
with the stuff that produced it
in the first place.
And yet this is precisely
what is being predicted
in another part of CERN
by theoretical physicists
like John Ellis.
My job as a theoretical physicist
is to try to understand
the structure of matter, what makes
up everything in the universe,
the stuff that we can see,
the stuff that we can't see.
It's the stuff we can't see
that is currently occupying
most of John's time.
So the astronomers tell us that
there are these dark matter particles
flying around us all the time,
between us as we speak.
But they've never detected
these things.
Now, we were going to try to
produce them at the LHC.
It sounds like a bold statement
but it's based on a very
conventional idea -
namely, that everything
we can see and can't see
has its origins at the point
of the Big Bang
when things were as hot
as it's possible to be.
And it's only in the LHC that,
at least in theory, energy levels
approaching those not seen
since the moment of creation
can be reproduced.
EXPLOSION
Now, at those very early epochs,
we think that there were
other particles
besides the ones that are described
by the standard model,
particles that we can't see.
Now, we believe that this
dark matter must exist,
because if we look at galaxies,
if we look at the universe
around us today,
there has to be some sort of
unseen dark stuff,
and we think that stuff must have
been liberated from the particles
that we can see very early
in the history of the universe.
If John and Dave can make
a suitable WIMP at CERN,
the picture will become much clearer
for Juan and the deep mine
fraternity.
Suddenly there'll be
something to shoot at.
If the astronomers find
a dark matter particle, you know,
hitting something in the laboratory,
they don't know what type
of particle it is.
But if we put our two
experiments together,
like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle,
we may be able to figure out
what this dark matter actually is.
Linking a manufactured particle
from CERN
to underground WIMP detections
would indeed connect two pieces
of the jigsaw.
But there's a third piece -
one that provides evidence of dark
matter in its native habitat.
This is Chicago, Illinois.
# You only love me
for my record collection
# You say you never felt
a deeper connection... #
Chicago is the home of
the deep-dish pizza, Barack Obama,
and Reggies blues club
at 2105 South State Street.
# Let the record spin
cos you like it like that
# We're hanging on by the way
it spins round
# You love me for my records
and you wanna get down... #
Guitarist Charlie Wayne
and his band The Congregation
are entertaining the crowd
with one of their newest songs.
MUSIC CONTINUES
Charlie has been in many bands over
the years, and has often been
in two minds as to whether he should
become a professional musician.
CHEERING
But for the time being, he has a day
job.
And a day name, too.
During the day, guitarist
Charlie Wayne becomes
Associate Professor Dan Hooper,
physicist.
So, I'm a professor of astronomy and
astrophysics
at the University of Chicago,
but I also do
research here at Fermilab, as part of
the theoretical astrophysics group.
In addition to being
the centre of particle physics
in the United States,
they have a strong programme in
cosmology and particle astrophysics.
They study questions like, how did
the universe begin?
How did it evolve?
What's dark matter and dark energy?
Some of my favourite questions.
And while Charlie
dreams of commercial success
and induction into the Rock and Roll
Hall of Fame, Dan has his eyes
on the glittering prizes that can be
won through academic study.
So, this is my office,
this is where I do my work.
So what does work mean, Dan?
So, I'm a theoretical astrophysicist.
Which means my research is
done on chalk boards, and pads
and paper, and my computer.
I don't run any experiments.
I don't build anything.
Fermilab is named
for Italian-American
Nobel Prize-winning physicist,
Enrico Fermi,
whose name is also given to a class
of subatomic particles, fermions.
It's appropriate, then, that
Dan works here,
because it's possible that he,
too, has identified
a type of particle - something
that could be a dark matter WIMP,
something that Dan's colleagues
are already calling the Hooperon.
OK, so in many theories of dark
matter,
these particles of dark matter
are themselves stable.
They'll sit around
and basically do nothing, throughout
the history of the universe,
but in those rare instances where
they collide with each other,
they can get entirely destroyed or
annihilated and leave
behind in their wake these energetic
jets of ordinary material.
So these jets might include
things like an electron that might
fly around here and just move
through the magnetic fields
of the universe, or they might
include particles called neutrinos,
which are really hard to detect.
And then they could also include,
and usually do, some particles
that we call gamma rays which
are just really high-energy photons.
So if the Fermi telescope,
which is my cartoon picture
of the Fermi telescope here,
happens to be looking
in the direction that the gamma ray
came from, you could record them
and maybe see evidence of this
sort of process going on,
especially in the centre of
the Milky Way,
where there's so much dark matter.
Liftoff of the Delta rocket
carrying the gamma ray telescope,
searching for unseen physics
in the stars of the galaxies.
The gamma ray-detecting Fermi
telescope is also
named for Enrico Fermi,
but confusingly,
it has nothing to do with Fermilab.
But because the data it records
is made public, anyone, including
Dan, can take a view on what
it's seeing.
In 2009, I was sitting at my laptop
just like this.
And I had a mathematical routine
written to, you know,
plot the spectrum in the galactic
centre regions. So how the different
photons came with different energy,
how many of them were different
energies,
and most of the backgrounds
predict something pretty flat,
not exactly flat, but pretty flat,
and dark matter predicts a bump.
So I plotted up,
and for the first time I hit enter
and, you know, run the plotting
routine and this plot comes up,
and there's this big old bump.
You just couldn't miss it.
It was a giant
bump in the inner galaxy.
The bump of gamma ray activity that
Dan has seen
could be due to many things.
Pulsars emit gamma rays, for a
start, and there are plenty of them
in the Milky Way.
But the energy levels that
make up Dan's bump
theoretically matches the
annihilation profile of particles
that could,
theoretically, be dark matter -
Dan's particle, the Hooperon.
It really was the thing
I did the analysis looking for.
And it just stared back at me
and said, "This is the thing you
might have been looking for."
It was exciting.
Exciting it may be,
but, as yet,
the data that feeds Dan's bump is
currently just raw data.
The Fermi telescope collaboration
has not yet confirmed it.
Until they do, the excess gamma rays
could be anything,
even a problem with the gamma ray
detector.
But if it is real,
if this third part of the jigsaw
falls into place, it will not only
be good for Dan's career, it will
also confirm what this man has been
saying for more than 30 years.
He is Professor Carlos Frenk, FRS,
creator of universes.
So, Carlos, what is this place?
Well, this is my institute,
the Institute for Computational
Cosmology of Durham University.
This is where I work.
That's my office up there,
and it's here that we build
replicas of the universe.
Back in the day, when WIMPs
and MACHOs were still debated,
and Carlos was just starting out
in his scientific career, he and his
friends made a compelling case for
one particular type of dark matter.
"Dark matter," they announced -
with all the certainty of youth -
"is not only of the WIMP variety,
but, furthermore, it is also cold."
It was 1984 and the University
of California in Santa Barbara
had organised a six-month workshop
on the structure of the universe.
I was there with my three very close
colleagues, and they were
George Efstathiou from England,
Simon White and Marc Davis.
We were very young, at the time,
we were only in our 20s,
and my first job was to try
and figure out,
together with my colleagues,
how galaxies formed. And to
our amazement we realised that
a particular kind of dark matter
known as cold dark matter, was
just... Would do the job just
beautifully.
Now that idea, at the time, was
really not accepted.
It was very unconventional. Because
the idea that dark matter existed
was not generally accepted and that
it should be an elementary particle,
and cold dark matter was just
outrageous, but that's how we were.
We were outrageous, too.
We were young, reckless.
I remember George Efstathiou used
to wear a leather jacket
and drive a bike,
very, very fast motorbike.
Simon and Marc were completely
reckless skiers.
I was the only reasonable
individual of the gang of four,
and then in the summer of 1984,
we had
a conference in Santa Barbara - by
the beach, sun shining,
beautiful day... I will never
forget.
I gave my first ever
talk on cold dark matter,
and at the end of it, I thought
it had gone rather well,
but at the end of it, a very, very
eminent astronomer came up
to me, whom I had met before
when I was a student in Cambridge,
and he says to me, "Carlos, I've got
something important to tell you."
He says, "I regard you as a very
promising young scientist but
"let me tell you something, if you
want to have a career in astronomy,
"the sooner you give up this cold
dark matter crap, the better."
And I remember how my world
crumbled. And I went up to Simon,
and I said, "Simon,
this is what I've just been told."
And Simon just looked at me
for what seemed a very long time,
and he said, "Just ignore him,
he's an old man."
He was 42.
HE CHUCKLES
Since he was told to drop it,
Carlos has shown again
and again that his ideas about cold
dark matter really do seem to
hold water, at least mathematically.
And with the advent of computer
visualisations,
bare numbers have been transformed
into the intensely beautiful
infrastructure of our universe.
This is not a picture of the real
universe,
this is the output of our latest
simulation. So what
we do to simulate the universe
is that we create our own Big Bang
in a computer, and then, crucially,
we make an assumption about the
nature of the dark matter, and in
this particular case we have assumed
that the dark matter is cold dark
matter, and this is what comes out.
An artificial virtual universe,
but it is essentially
indistinguishable from the real one.
And it is this that validates
our key assumption that the universe
is made of cold dark matter.
Of course, the obvious drawback with
dark matter is that you can't
see it...
But in his universe,
Carlos can simply colour it in,
mainly purple in this case.
So this is the backbone
of the universe, this is
the large-scale structure of the
dark matter coming to us vividly.
You can almost touch it from this
realistic computer simulation.
This is cold dark matter.
When I look at these amazing
structures that come
out of the computers,
and the fact that
I have largely contributed to cold
dark matter becoming
the standard model of cosmology,
I'm just so glad I didn't listen
to my eminent colleague in the
1980s, who told me that the quicker
I gave
this up, the likelier it was that
I would have a successful career.
I'm just so glad
I didn't listen to him.
So cold dark matter it is, then.
Carlos and his young guns
were right.
Their ideas are now enshrined
in the standard model of cosmology.
And the standard model of cosmology
is a theory that's
accounted for everything very well.
It explains how Hubble's expanding
universe originated.
Our universe started...
13.8 billion years ago...
In an instant.
It tells us how the
universe got to be the size it is.
ALL: This was a second
period in the birth of the universe.
It is called inflation.
It predicts precisely how much dark
matter there is in our universe.
ALL: 26% dark matter.
But it's a description of a problem,
rather than of a thing,
and this is where it gets
frustrating, because there
should be an answer from the
standard model of particle physics.
There are six quarks...
ALL: Four types of gauge bosons.
Six leptons.
And the Higgs boson.
But there isn't, because,
so far, there isn't a particle
in the standard model of particle
physics that provides us with
dark matter for the standard model
of cosmology, cold or otherwise.
At CERN,
they're hoping to put that right.
John Ellis thinks they might have
found some likely dark matter
particle candidates down the back
of a mathematical sofa, twice as
many particles as the standard model
currently provides, to be precise.
This idea goes under the name of...
Supersymmetry.
So the particles of the standard
model include the electron,
and then there's
a couple of other heavier particles
very much like it -
called mu and tau.
Other particles include neutrinos
and quarks, up, down, charm,
strange, top and bottom quarks.
Photons, gluons and W and Z
are force-carrying particles.
Now, as I've written it, these
particles wouldn't have any mass,
but there is the missing link,
the infamous Higgs boson,
which gives masses to these
particles and completes the standard
model.
Now, what supersymmetry says is
that in addition to these particles,
everyone has a partner or mirror
particle, if you like,
which we denote by twiddle,
so there's a selectron, there's a
smuon,
there's a stau, there's a photino,
there's a gluino, sneutrinos...
Supersymmetry,
or SUSY if you're in the know,
is, according to its devotees,
a rather beautiful notion that
not only explains an awful
lot of problems in physics
and cosmology, but also provides us
with a dark matter particle,
perhaps, if it's real,
as opposed to just a nice idea.
And so far, it's been as elusive as,
well, as dark matter itself.
We were kind of hopeful that with
the first run of the LHC,
we might see some supersymmetric
particles, but we didn't.
And the fact of the matter is that
we can't calculate from first
principles
how heavy these
supersymmetric particles
might be, and so what the LHC has
told us so far is that they have
to be somewhat heavier than maybe
we'd hoped. But when we increase
the energy of the LHC, we'll be able
to look further, produce heavier
supersymmetric particles, if they
exist, so let's see what happens.
Also waiting to see what happens
and interpret the 40 million
pictures per second that the
ATLAS detector will produce, will be
Dave Charlton and his team,
but not all of them are convinced
they'll see supersymmetry at all.
I have to say, I'm not the hugest
fan of supersymmetry.
It seems slightly messy, the way you
just add in, sort of, one extra
particle for every other
particle that we know about.
I would prefer something
a bit more elegant.
People have been
looking for SUSY for decades, right,
and we've been building bigger
and bigger machines
and it's always, it's always been
just out of reach, like it
always just moves a little bit
further away.
It's always receding over
the horizon.
And it's getting to the point where,
now with the LHC, it's going up in
energy and that's such a huge reach
now that if we still don't find it,
then...you know,
it starts to look like it's
probably not the right idea.
As an experimentalist, it's
really my job to have an open mind
and really to look at all
of the possibilities and try
and explore everything
we might discover.
The theorists might have their own
favourite theories
and say, you know, you should
discover supersymmetry,
or you should discover something
else.
I don't know.
Nature will tell us what's there.
If you're beginning to think
supersymmetric particles that
may or may not be there, and that
in any case we might not be able
ever to detect, are looking less and
less likely, then you're not alone.
In Seattle, at the University of
Washington,
Professor Leslie Rosenberg
is on his own search.
And he's not looking for SUSY.
So, Leslie,
what's wrong with supersymmetry?
Well, I don't know that anything
is wrong with it.
As an experimenter,
I suppose I'm not spun up about it.
It's not something that I could
squeeze and break like a balloon.
If I try and squeeze it,
the balloon expands and evades me.
It's... Things are loosy-goosy
unless you've got something
definite to look at.
So imagine that you're
looking for Martians
and you have no idea what a Martian
looks like and you do an
experiment where you're looking for
someone that's purple, and they're
half-a-metre tall, with three
antennae. And you publish a paper
saying
you've excluded this particular
Martian. Well, Martians could be
12 metres tall and they could
have no antennas and they could be
a nice shade of puce, and you really
haven't excluded Martians.
Professor Rosenberg has dug his own
hole in the ground, in which
his dark matter search
is about to begin.
He's looking for yet another
theoretical particle that
nobody has ever seen,
except in the form of mathematics.
But it's not supersymmetrical,
and it has a name.
It's a type of WIMP called an axion.
This is the axion dark matter
experiment, ADMX.
This piece of it is one
of the major components.
It's a large, super-conducting
magnet, 8-Tesla...
much, much bigger than
the Earth's field.
And this is the actual insert being
assembled for the next run here.
So the idea of the experiment is
so straightforward.
When we insert this insert
into the large magnetic field here,
nearby axions scatter
off the magnetic field -
and, oh, my goodness,
there are a lot of axions.
But the number of scatters
is very small.
That's why it's a hard experiment.
And those few microwave photons,
as a result of that scatter,
get amplified,
get pushed out of the experiment
and detected by the
low-noise room-temperature
electronics,
and if the axion is the dark matter,
we should be able to answer
the question - does it or does it
not exist as dark matter?
As ever, it's a simple enough
question to ask, but unlike
certain other set-ups, Leslie is
hopeful that his experiment is
straightforward enough to stand some
chance of providing a simple answer.
I can really see it as being
a particle in nature,
and I'm really driven, as we all
are driven here, to try and find it.
And if you don't?
We will dust ourselves off
and move on.
I mean...
God can be tough,
and if God decides axions are not
part of nature,
then that's the answer.
There's not much I can do about it.
We will have an answer, though.
I-I will be still living
when we have an answer.
There are many other theories where
people will be long-dead
by the time the theory
is fully, fully vetted.
But it's not just axions.
There are other cold dark matter
candidates
competing for God's attention.
One that glories in the name
of the sterile neutrino
isn't even cold, it's warm.
Carlos and the gang of four may have
been wrong all along.
In recent years,
Carlos has been flirting with
the idea of warm dark matter and has
even created a computer simulation
of it in our own Milky Way.
Cold on the left, warm on the right.
This is still tentative.
It's still controversial.
But here's a prediction for what the
halo of the Milky Way should
look like if the universe is
made of warm dark matter.
It should be much smoother with
far fewer small clumps.
And the beauty of this is here
we have a prediction,
cold dark matter versus warm dark
matter, that's eminently testable.
It's now incumbent upon
observational astronomers to
tell us, with their telescopes,
whether the Milky Way is
in a halo like that or whether the
Milky Way is in a halo like this.
If it turns out to be that the
universe is not made of cold dark
matter,
I will be rather
depressed, given that I've
worked all my life on cold dark
matter.
I will be disappointed,
but not for very long,
because that's the way science is.
You have to accept the evidence
and if it turns out that I've
wasted my life working on the wrong
hypothesis, so be it.
What I really want to know is - what
is the universe made of?
Let it be cold, let it be warm.
I just want to know what it is.
At Fermilab, that answer might be
inching slightly closer.
CHATTER
A representative of the Fermi
telescope collaboration is
preparing to make an announcement.
This is the moment
Dan Hooper has been waiting for,
ever since he first identified the
excess gamma rays in the centre
of the Milky Way and saw the bump
they produced in his graph.
Professor Simona Murgia
will shortly reveal
whether the raw data that hints
at the presence of a Hooperon
is real or simply the product
of a loose wire on the satellite.
OK, so here is some more
information about the Fermi mission.
Professor Murgia's analysis
of the Fermi telescope data
is rigorous and extensive.
So this spectrum in gamma rays of the
globular class gives you
a good indication of the spectrum
of population in the second pulsars,
so these...
But there's only one thing
Dan wants to hear.
The signal was consistent with dark
matter annihilating again.
I will have, hopefully, new
interesting results to come. Thanks.
So what we find when we look
at the data with our analysis,
is that there seems to be
an excess which is consistent with
a dark matter interpretation,
meaning that it has
a distribution that is very similar,
very consistent with what we
think the dark matter distribution
in our galaxy should look like.
As I see it, they see, essentially,
the sort of excess we've been
talking about for years.
That's a great step.
They haven't been saying that
until very recently.
So I think it's very exciting
because this could be
the first time that we are seeing
dark matter shining.
However, there is a lot more
work that we need to do to
actually confirm that what we're
seeing is dark matter.
So, we're heading in the right
direction? Right direction.
Maybe not there yet, but definitely
in the right direction.
So you're happy that the
last few years' work
hasn't been a complete
waste of time?
It doesn't seem to have been
a complete waste of time.
OK, good.
It might be that, finally, science
is making inroads
into the mysterious non-visible
world of dark matter, perhaps.
If the Hooperon checks out,
and if all the fingers being
crossed in Switzerland
and France pay off, then, at least
in theory, the deep-mine scientists
will simply have the formality
of looking in the right place.
Dark matter identified,
standard models intact,
Nobel prizes handed out.
You would think that would be
that, the end of the story.
But you'd be wrong, because there's
another problem, another
dark thing that is a description
of something we don't understand.
It's called dark energy.
So, 15 years ago some astronomers
observing distant supernovae
saw that the distance to
those supernovae was larger
than they expected,
and so the only way that they could
understand that was to have a
universe that started accelerating
three billion years ago, and
whether that carries on accelerating
or not, we don't know, but what
we do know is that there has to be
another component to the universe
which we call this dark energy.
But you don't know what it is?
No idea. Not at all.
No-one knows what it is?
No-one. No-one.
There are more theories than
there are theoreticians.
And that's a problem,
because according to the standard
model of cosmology,
it makes up most of the universe.
Our universe
consists of 4% baryonic matter.
26% dark matter.
And 70% dark energy.
And because dark energy
seems to make sense,
at least at a theoretical level,
it's the role of experimentalists
like Bob
to think of ways to explain it.
That's why he's come here to the
Dark Energy Survey
at Cerro Tololo, where one of the
world's largest digital cameras
scans the night sky
in search of more supernovae
and an ever more accurate picture
of the universe's expansion history.
You can probably see some
of the stars, and in here will be
some of the supernovae that we're
hunting to measure dark energy.
So are you hopeful?
I am hopeful.
I think we will be able to make at
least a factor-of-ten improvement
with using this instrument,
than we have today.
And then if we don't get that,
we'll have to wait for LSST.
The LSST,
the Large Synoptic Survey Telescope,
is being built on another Chilean
mountain and is due to come
on stream in 2021, representing
a significant jump in resolution.
With this instrument, we can observe
about 3,000 supernovae.
With the LSST we'll be able to
observe about a million supernovae,
and that should really nail it.
OK.
It won't though, will it? Actually?
THEY LAUGH
See...
It'll nail it, it will nail it.
What, what will it nail?
Well, it'll nail the expansion
history of the universe
and then, hopefully, some bright
theorist will come up with...
So it's not going to nail
dark energy.
It'll just show you how it's
expanding?
It'll show us how the
universe is expanding
and then, hopefully, that will
give us some direction
in which to understand
the true nature of dark energy.
It could be that cosmology
stands on the cusp of revealing
the true nature of our universe.
Then again, it may
stand on the cusp of nothing at all.
It might be that the only way to
progress is not to look harder,
but to embrace a new physics
that's currently,
like the dark universe,
just out of reach.
HE EXHALES
HE LAUGHS