Why the search for particle dark matter is hopeless, part 1

Why the search for particle dark matter is hopeless, part 1

Previously, I made a list of five criteria for a convincing dark matter detection. I discussed the first four, which I hope are obvious to everyone who works in the field, but it seemed worthwhile to write them out explicitly given the hint of a detection by LZ. I left the fifth criterion – that whatever the dark matter is it should naturally explain the observed MONDian phenomenology – to be discussed separately, so that’s what we’ll do here.

Explaining the observed MONDian phenomenology is a high bar. That it does not follow naturally from dark matter should be obvious. It used to be, but apparently it no longer is, so let’s think it through. Indeed, it’s going to take two posts to get through.

First, some definitions:

Cold Dark Matter (CDM): the non-relativistic, non-baryonic dark matter that is standard to cosmology. Usually presumed to be a WIMP, it could in principle be any mass that is slow-moving and does not participate in big bang nucleosynthesis. I will nevertheless assume, as the vast majority of scientists do, that it is some new particle, if not necessarily a WIMP.

Generic Dark Matter (DM): could be any unseen mass, but here I will use it to mean non-WIMP particle DM candidates that don’t necessarily do what pure CDM predicts. For example, warm (WDM) or self-interacting dark matter (SIDM) might produce cored rather than cuspy dark matter halos. So by generic DM I mean any new particle that doesn’t interact with baryons except through gravity. This is pretty much everything that is commonly discussed in particle physics, with only a few obscure exceptions. Cold dark matter is of course a subset of generic DM, but it makes specific predictions, like cuspy halos, while generic DM is just there adding mass.

Modified Newtonian Dynamics (MOND): the hypothesis that the effective force law at low accelerations a≪a0=1.2×10−10ms−2a \ll a_0 = 1.2 \times 10^{-10}\,\mathrm{m}\,\mathrm{s}^{-2} becomes a→a0gNa \rightarrow \sqrt{a_0\,g_N}, where gNg_N is the acceleration predicted by Newton (gN=GM/r2g_N = GM/r^2 for a point mass M; more generally one must solve the Poison equation for the observed mass distribution). The Newtonian and MOND regimes are connected by an interpolation function ν\nu so that a=ν(gN/a0)gNa = \nu(g_N/a_0)\, g_N. The interpolation function is not fundamental and only matters around the transition a≈a0a \approx a_0.

Data wanting explanation

OK, so let’s see how these compare with galaxy data. I’m only going to talk about galaxy data because I’ve talked about everything else in other posts, and to offer a reflection of those who think CMB data are the only form of evidence that matters, to the exclusion of any other contrary evidence. If we adopt the same attitude, then galaxy data already suffice to falsify DM. Note my use of the generic DM there, not just CDM.

So what do we need to understand about galaxies? Their many regularities, as summarized in this table along with whether each of CDM, generic DM, and MOND provide a satisfactorily explanation:

Observation[L]CDMGeneric DMMOND
Flat rotation curvesNoSureBy construction
Inner rotation curve shapes maximal disks & diversityNoMaybe?Yes
Stellar Mass-to-Light RatiosNowhateverYes
Baryonic Tully-Fisher RelationNoNoYes
Radial Acceleration RelationNoNoYes
Central Surface Density RelationNo NoYes
Renzo’s Rule (Sancisi’s Law)NoMaybe? but no, not reallyYes
Acceleration scaleLOL no, CDM is scale freeNoYes

Satisfactory is doing a lot of work in evaluating whether each case provides a satisfactory explanation. It is easy to find claims in the literature to explain some if not all of these items, but these claims are generally not satisfactory. From the perspective of the current sociology of the field, they don’t need to be: as long as someone asserts that [insert observation] works in [C]DM, the community hears what it wants to hear, mentally checks the box, and files it under “not a problem” even when it remains very much a problem.

Rotation curve shapes: flat far out; baryon-like near-in

I’ve written about all of these things at one point or another here, but for starters, let’s consider flat rotation curves. Flat rotation curves were, of course, a primary reason why we invoked dark matter in the first place. Dark matter can certainly explain flat rotation curves at the level of “anything in excess of the baryonic rotation curve is attributable to dark matter.” This is exactly what generic DM was initially invoked to do. Part and parcel of this early construction was that dark matter was not needed at small radii. For the bright galaxies studied in the ’70s and early ’80s, the stars explained the inner parts of rotation curves quite well, a condition dubbed “maximum disk.” The inner regions were star-dominated, and dark matter only became relevant far out. That’s why I’ve given generic DM a “sure” grade: that’s what it was invoked to do.

The rotation curve (data points) of the high surface brightness spiral galaxy NGC 7331. The blue line is the Newtonian prediction for the observed stars and gas. This disk is maximal, meeting the rotation curve data at small radii for a stellar population mass-to-light ratio of 0.42M⊙/L⊙0.42\;M_{\odot}/L_{\odot} at [3.6] microns. (Nominally we expect a typical value of 0.5 in this band, so maximum disk here is already a bit on the low side in terms of stellar populations: there isn’t much leeway to decrease this further as would be necessary to accommodate a cuspy dark matter halo.) Despite the good match at small radii, the need for something extra, be it dark matter or MOND, becomes increasingly clear further out.

It is a low bar to say “any dynamical mass that’s not luminous is dark.” This, by itself, is not a satisfactory explanation: it is just an inference that when what we see falls short, then DM makes up the rest. To become a satisfactory explanation, one would need a theory that predicts this as an outcome. [L]CDM is better than generic DM in that it does make predictions.

CDM predicts NFW halos, at least when left to itself in dark matter-only simulations. These do not lead to flat rotation curves. NFW halos have rotation curves that rise steeply, turnover, then fall gradually. They are not flat over an extended region as routinely observed in real galaxies. In order to obtain the observed flatness requires a combination of baryons plus dark matter. That then requires a good theory for how the luminous galaxy forms, which is a lot more complicated than just an NFW halo. There are now lots of simulations that do this, but they generally don’t agree with each other, so we can’t claim to have a clear prediction from LCDM.

Despite their differences, detailed simulations of galaxy formation do share some common failure modes. Simulated galaxies tend to be too dark matter dominated so that (i) bright, high surface brightness objects often have submaximal disks, unlike real galaxies like NGC 7331 above or our own Milky Way. The shapes of simulated rotation curves tend to (ii) rise too fast relative to the data (those pesky cusps are hard to get rid of) and (iii) the outer rotation curves tend to fall too much, typically having a gradual decline rather than an extended flat portion. I say “tend to” and “typically” because there are a lot of simulations that share these failings, but the details differ from simulation to simulation.

I guess I should give an example. Here is a nice one from the SIMBA simulations:

Figure 2 from Glowacki et al. (2020): Example galaxies from the SIMBA snapshots and their corresponding rotation curves. Galaxies have been selected to closely match galaxies in the THINGS survey, in stellar mass and SFR. Left side: the moment-0 maps for the H I , H2, and stellar distributions for the galaxy. Three viewing angles are offered, along the x, y, and z-axis of the snapshot box. The color bars are in units of solar masses M⊙. Right side: rotation curves, generated from the mass distribution of all particles making up the galaxy (giving the solid black curve), and alternatively from the velocity of the gas particles (dot–dashed blue curve).

This is good: it shows us the distribution of the component baryons by phase (atomic gas, molecular gas, and stars), and the total rotation curves*. I think these are good simulation results in that they provide a reasonable depiction of what we should expect in LCDM. They do not look like real galaxies.

Apparently they look close enough to pass casual inspection. They are qualitatively correct in that a lot of rotation curves for bright galaxies go up steeply, peak, then fall some to the flat portion (NGC 7331 is a typical example). However, the rotation curves of these simulated objects illustrate two of the three typical problems noted above: the disks are too submaximal (compare the green dashed lines to the blue line for NGC 7331) and their rotation curves fall too far before flattening out. Here the simulated rotation curves don’t really flatten out at all, a problem I’ve seen in other simulations, not just SIMBA. I find it remarkable that half a century after flat rotation curves helped found the dark matter paradigm, typical simulations in the standard model of cosmology routinely fail to satisfactorily reproduce this essential observational fact.

The third problem is that simulated rotation curves tend to rise too rapidly, which leads to the cusp-core problem. This problem is particularly pronounced in dwarf galaxies, but such low mass galaxies are not well resolved by most simulations. This issue is addressed by specialized, high resolution simulations like those described by Ruan et al. (2025), which I previously discussed in the context of Tully-Fisher. They do a good job of explaining the small scatter in the Tully-Fisher relation if you don’t look too closely into how that is accomplished. They also show example rotation curves, which exemplify the issue with the inner shape:

The rotation curve of simulated dwarf galaxy-like object r614 (red line) from the top panel of Fig. 2 of Ruan et al. (2025) compared to a real galaxy of similar mass, the low surface brightness galaxy F583-1 (data points).

The suite of simulations from which this example is drawn is one of the better ones in terms of making realistic-looking galaxy-like objects. They are descended from the family of simulations that first claimed to convert cusps into cores. That hasn’t worked out here: the rotation curve of simulated dwarf r614 looks exactly like a cuspy NFW halo. This is what LCDM generically predicts, but real galaxies don’t do that. [Same as it ever was – see Fig. 14 of McGaugh & de Blok (1998).]

Note that I am not saying the simulations are wrong. I think they often do a reasonable job of showing what we should expect for LCDM. What I am saying is that LCDM simulations don’t look like reality. If we believe the simulations get the predictions of LCDM right, then LCDM is falsified. If we don’t want to grant credence to that line of thought, then we either tweak our simulations in an effort to iterate towards something that looks less unrealistic, or simply ignore the uncomfortable aspects of the data. Those two approaches pretty much encompass the past thirty years of the field of galaxy formation.

Regardless of any notional improvements to future simulations, LCDM does not generically get flat rotation curves right – hence the “no” in the table above. I give generic DM a “sure” in this category because the bar is set lower. LCDM at least makes predictions, albeit filtered through the effects of baryonic feedback, which is treated differently by different simulations. There is no prediction for generic DM, so sure, whatever. To illustrate how low this bar is, consider the difference between fitting the data and predicting it. If presented with rotation curve data, we can fit it with any DM halo model you can imagine. In that process, we will reproduce the observed flatness by construction. That’s what a fit does. However, predicting the rotation curve is a much harder proposition. There is no reason to expect baryonic disk+DM halo to result in a flat rotation curve. Indeed, there is only a small sector of the available parameter space where that is the result; it is quite easy to build a plausible-seeming model that has either a rising or a declining rotation curve. I was surprised in my earliest modeling attempts to find just how unlikely the result was to be a flat rotation curve. Lots of subsequent simulations corroborate that without confronting the issue.

Note that MOND, like dark matter, was invented to explain flat rotation curves. That rotation curves are flat happens by construction; there is no evidentiary value in checking this box. Positive evidence does follow from more extended rotation curves than were known at the time of its invention. But aside from that relatively recent development, there’s not much to brag about in the first row of the table for any of the ideas listed there.

The different hypotheses do become distinguishable in the subsequent rows. MOND made specific, a priori predictions for the other entries in the table, and these were all realized by subsequent observations. This behavior, which I refer to collectively as the MOND phenomenology, was not anticipated by dark matter, and is not readily explained by it. Moreover, predictions matter. Even if we do come up with a DM explanation for each of the things MOND predicted a priori, why should we privilege the idea that failed to make the same predictions? This is the opposite of how science is supposed to work.

Rotation curve shapes

We’ve touched on the concept of maximum disk in bright spirals where the inner shape of the rotation curve is stipulated by the observed distribution of stars. This is not expected in LCDM, where the effects of cuspy halos and adiabatic compression combine to preclude disks from becoming maximal – hence the submaximal disks in SIMBA and other simulations. However, feedback can also play a role, so it is not entirely clear what the end results might be for high surface brightness galaxies. (The typical assertion from theory is that high mass galaxies have deep enough potential wells that the impact of feedback is minimal, but that leads to submaximal disks.)

Matters become simpler in low surface brightness galaxies, which are observed to be have large mass discrepancies. This dark matter domination extends to small radii; stellar mass has little influence on the dynamics. Consequently, one expects rotation curves to simply trace that of the dark matter halo. At a given mass, different DM-dominated galaxies reside in pretty much the same DM halo, so should have pretty much the same rotation curve. They do not.

Though long known observationally, this came as a surprise to the simulation community, who coined the term “diversity” to refer to it. They failed to notice that the diversity of rotation curve shapes correlates with the diversity of surface brightnesses: high surface brightness galaxies have rapidly rising rotation curves, low surface brightness galaxies have gradually rising rotation curves. The relation is so strong, it can be seen by eye:

Rotation curves color coded by galaxy surface brightness. There is an almost perfect rainbow variation that is plain to see: low surface brightness galaxies (blue tones) have gradually rising rotation curves; high surface brightness galaxies (red tones) have rapidly rising rotation curves – sometimes so fast that the flat velocity is already attained within 1 kpc. (Adapted from McGaugh 2020.)

The systematic variation of rotation curve shape with surface brightness is the signature of MOND. Lower surface brightness means lower stellar surface density means lower acceleration means a larger mass discrepancy. Low surface brightness galaxies are inferred to be dark matter dominated as a consequence. Though initially surprising from the conventional perspective, this is exactly what MOND predicted a priori. Milgrom discussed the expected variation in rotation curve shapes in his original series of papers. That’s what is observed above. I have not seen the same effect emerge from simulations, nor do I expect to.

Stellar population mass-to-light ratios

The mass of the stars matters to the dynamics. We observe starlight, but need to know the stellar mass for the physics. The connection between the two is encapsulated by the mass-to-light ratio of the stellar population.

Conventionally, constructing a model or fitting a rotation curve requires a minimum of three physical parameters: one for the stellar mass with its corresponding mass-to-light ratio, and two for the dark matter halo (typically a mass and length scale). That is more parameters than are required to describe the data, so there is considerable degeneracy between them. It’s like fitting a small number of points with a high order polynomial: a fit is not only guaranteed, but entire families of equally good fits are possible. Consequently, the precise value of the fitted stellar mass-to-light ratio does not provide a test; it can be whatever it needs to be and an appropriate halo fit can be obtained.

To fit a rotation curve in MOND, one has only knowledge of the RAR and a single physical# parameter, the stellar mass-to-light ratio. That provides a test. If there is nothing to MOND beyond being a weird fitting formula, then the mass-to-light ratio is a free-floating parameter that will take whatever value is necessary to provide a fit. If instead it corresponds to physical reality, then the fitted stellar mass-to-light ratios should conform to astrophysical expectations for stellar populations.

The stellar mass-to-light ratios from MOND fits (points) in the blue (left panel) and near-infrared (right panel) pass-bands plotted against B-V color (bluer colors to the left, redder to the right). From the perspective of stellar populations, one expects more scatter and a steeper color dependence in the blue band, as observed. The lines are stellar population models from Bell et al. (2003). These are completely independent, and have not been fit to these data in any way. (Adapted from Famaey & McGaugh 2012).

We know a lot about stars and their evolution. It is possible to build extremely sophisticated stellar population models. These of course have their own uncertainties, but they are good enough to provide a clear expectation for what the stellar mass-to-light ratio should be. As the figure above illustrates, MOND fits return the correct amplitude for M*/L and its variation with color. The expected amount of bandpass-dependent scatter is also apparent: more in the blue, less in the near-IR. One could not hope for better astrophysical agreement.

Tully-Fisher Relation

MOND correctly anticipated a number of striking features about the Tully-Fisher relation. People seem to obsess about the slope; MOND predicts Vf∝Mb1/4V_f \propto M_b^{1/4} while the dark matter halo version of this is V200∝M2001/3V_{200} \propto M_{200}^{1/3}. We observe the former. The latter isn’t a prediction for what we can see, so modeling is required. There exist many models, so there is no clear consensus on what LCDM predicts. It certainly didn’t predict Vf∝Mb1/4V_f \propto M_b^{1/4}, which I guess is why people obsess over this aspect of the observation and complain as the slope has converged to that value with increasing precision as the data have improved.

LCDM models that adhere to abundance matching naturally predict curvature in Tully-Fisher. This is a generic expectation that necessarily arises when mapping the curving shape of the galaxy luminosity function to the power law of the DM halo mass function. A representative example is provided by the model of Sales et al. (2017) (red line in plot). This model does OK for a range in mass, but departs from the data at both high and low mass ends.

The Baryonic Tully-Fisher relation for spiral galaxies (blue), gas rich dwarf irregulars (green), and Local Group galaxies (yellow). The straight black line is MOND. The curving red line is the model of Sales et al. (2017). There are many variations on the LCDM prediction while that of MOND works better and has remained unchanged since its introduction in 1983.

There are other aspects of Tully-Fisher that are problematic for the dark matter picture. More concerning to me than the slope is the small scatter. If one goes through the exercise of tabulating the scatter budget, one finds that it should be large. There are many sources of potential variance, including that from halos themselves. At a given mass, halos should come in a range of concentrations; that by itself exceeds the observed scatter budget, which is entirely explained by the expected amount of scatter in the mass-to-light ratios of stellar populations.

Another prediction of MOND that sits uncomfortably with dark matter is the absence of second parameter effects. Newton says V2=GM/RV^2 = GM/R; both mass and radius matter to the velocity. Yet radius is not observed to be relevant, only the mass, as predicted by MOND: Vf4=a0GMV_f^4 = a_0GM. Explaining this with dark matter requires suppressing the dependence on radius, which in turn requires an unnatural fine-tuning between the luminous and dark matter components. It was this that made me start to doubt dark matter before I was cognizant of MOND. When I learned that MOND – and only MOND – predicted this absence of second parameter effects is when I started to take it seriously.

Radial Acceleration Relation

The naive expectation for rotation curves in LCDM follows from placing an exponential disk in an NFW halo. This is the second thing I tried, before the turn of the century, after first trying then-standard pseudo-isothermal halos. This doesn’t work to reproduce the Radial Acceleration Relation (RAR) (or the Mass Discrepancy-Acceleration Relation as I called it back then).

My inability to explain the RAR wasn’t for lack of trying. If it were natural, it would follow naturally, and I would have said so in the ’90s. It did not because the RAR is not natural in terms of dark matter, only in terms of MOND. This used to be obvious to everyone. For example, at a 2006 conference in New Mexico, I said let’s ignore MOND and carefully explained how the data led to what we now call the radial acceleration relation without reference to MOND. As soon as I finished, Anatoly Klypin SHOUTED: “WE DON’T HAVE TO EXPLAIN MOND!”

But we do have to explain the data, which was the whole point of my talk and the paper it was based on (McGaugh 2004). The RAR is in the data, whether you know about MOND or not. Plausible dark matter models could do any number of things that are not that. It’s not my fault that instead the data look like MOND. So, to explain the data, you do have to explain why dark matter looks like MOND (whether you realize it or not), which, as Anatoly correctly grasped, makes no sense whatsoever.

Can a dark matter model be contrived to look like MOND? That was the charge to the galaxy formation community: I wrote McGaugh (2004) to explicitly lay out what we had to do to explain the data conventionally. Nobody took up the challenge. Most of the citations to that paper are MOND-related, it did not draw much response from the intended audience (unless it was a decrease in invitations to speak at conferences like the one in New Mexico). It was old news to me – I had spent several years expanding and vetting the data from the 1998 edition – but I guess it was still too soon to register with most scientists.

The biggest uncertainty in 2004 was the mass-to-light ratios of the stellar populations. I tried a number of prescriptions for these. The RAR was apparent in each; only the best-fit acceleration scale and the amount of scatter varied. So I left that as an “out” – one didn’t have to adopt the same M*/L that MOND fits found (though you need to be close; see above) and wrote the mathematical requirements for the DM halo in all generality. Crickets.

We spent a decade improving the situation with M*/L by acquiring near-IR data. When Federico Lelli first used these to construct the modern RAR, the scatter caused by uncertainty in the previous optical M*/L collapsed to practically nil. The RAR emerged as a tight empirical relation, a result so remarkable that it is in effect a Law of Nature.

This time (2016) the galaxy formation community took notice and fell all over itself to draw the wrong conclusion. Instead of evincing angry denial like Klypin, numerous papers suddenly asserted that the RAR happens “naturally” in LCDM models. If it were so natural, why had the community denied it so hard for so long? This assertion of naturalness is the greatest abuse of scientific language in modern times: there is nothing remotely natural about it; we had already demonstrated this. Those lessons had already been forgotten (if ever learned), but in the intervening time, people had been busily tweaking their models to make them more like data, so if you didn’t know any of the relevant history, or how badly previous models had failed, the assertion that it is all natural might seem reasonable. I guess. It really is not.

In order to build a galaxy formation model, one has to construct a model for both the visible galaxy and its parent DM halo. One of the huge unknowns in this game is how to assign the galaxy we see to a dark matter halo we do not. The standard approach in the 1990s was to assume a constant relation between the mass of the observed galaxy and that of its host dark matter halo. Mo et al. (1998) did this (“the masses of disks are a few percent of those of their haloes”); I made the same assumption in my modeling efforts. It gradually became clear that this could not work, and subsequently abundance matching became the norm for making this assignment. This collapses the dynamic range in halo mass relative to that in galaxy stellar mass, which makes models look like galaxies all live in nearly the same DM halo, which goes in the right direction.

One claim that the RAR is natural in LCDM comes from Navarro et al. (2017). They add exponential disks to NFW halos, duplicating the exercise I tried twenty years earlier. It appears to work better now because they adopt abundance matching to assign DM halos to galaxies rather than the original assumption of a constant ratio of baryons to dark matter that we all made in the hopes of avoiding this becoming a rolling free parameter. The reduced dynamic range in halo mass that follows from abundance matching has the benefit of collapsing models to approximate the RAR, at least over a finite dynamic range. This is illustrated by this plot I made four years ago but I don’t think I’ve published previously:

The radial acceleration relation (top panels) traced by kinematics (red & blue points) and gravitational lensing (orange, cyan, & open points) for early (triangles) and late type (circles) galaxies. Also shown are LCDM models (left) and MOND (right) and their residuals (bottom panels). See text for details.

The data here are kinematic data from our own work plus weak gravitational lensing from Brouwer et al. (2021). Both have been improved since I made this, in particular with the reanalysis of the lensing data by Mistele et al. (2024). Rather than remake the plot, it is informative of how the data improve over time. The lensing data are more reliable where the target galaxies are most likely to be isolated (filled points); less reliable data beyond this region are shown as open points.

Two sets of LCDM models are shown in the left panels. Both have four lines that correspond to the four mass bins used in the weak lensing analysis. The pink lines are the simplest possible: exponential disks in NFW halos. This is identical to the model of Navarro et al. (2017) except that I’ve used Kratsov’s abundance matching relation because this works better for this purpose. The green lines from Li et al. (2022) are similar, but additionally include the effects of adiabatic compression. I omit more complicated models from simulations because the plot becomes incomprehensibly busy. They don’t improve matters.

Over the range 10−11≲gobs≲5×10−9ms−210^{-11} \lesssim \mathrm{g}_{\mathrm{obs}} \lesssim 5 \times 10^{-9}\;\mathrm{m}\,\mathrm{s}^{-2}, the LCDM models appear to match the observed RAR. This much supports the claim that LCDM explains the RAR. Is it satisfactory? Is it sufficient?

If one zooms in, as seen in the residuals in the lower panel, the lines for the individual models segregate. This is not obvious in the RAR itself, where the logarithmic scale necessary to display the large dynamic range of the data compresses and conceals such unpleasant details. There is no such mass segregation in the data: all galaxies fall on the same RAR, within the uncertainties.

Another detail that becomes apparent in the residual diagram (which is mysteriously absent in all the papers I’ve seen claiming this works in LCDM) is that the models do not have the right shape. From high to low accelerations, the pink lines dip below the data, then above, then below again. At low accelerations, they dive very much below: the models cease to even come close to working at gobs≲10−11ms−2\mathrm{g}_{\mathrm{obs}} \lesssim 10^{-11}\;\mathrm{m}\,\mathrm{s}^{-2}. Their utility is limited to a narrow dynamic range: they are neither satisfactory nor sufficient.

The models considered here do not probe the high acceleration end of the RAR. This is an artifact of the simplicity of the exponential disk plus NFW halo model. Such models never reach high accelerations because those are the province of bulge components. Without those, the models end in little hooks: they are turning away from the RAR at the highest acceleration plotted. There’s no reason not to plot to higher acceleration, but it would make the models look worse – the hooks would grow in the wrong direction. I’ve made the conscious choice – as I’ve noted others have – not to show the ugly parts of this model. The difference is that I don’t pretend it works by virtue of not looking where it doesn’t work.

The models from Li et al. (2022) that include adiabatic compression are represented by the green lines. These do better than the simple exponential disk plus NFW halo models insofar as the are less bendy. But they still segregate by mass, and dive to lower accelerations even faster.

I’ve tried various simulations in this plot but I have yet to find one that does well. The turn down at low accelerations occurs at large radii where feedback effects are usually said to be minimal, so that is not a likely solution. Indeed, the problem is generic. Low accelerations probe the outer regions of CDM halos where the robust prediction from simulations is a density profile that scales as ρCDM∝r−3\rho_{\mathrm{CDM}} \propto r^{-3}, but the data scale as ρDM∝r−2\rho_{\mathrm{DM}} \propto r^{-2} as required to produce a flat rotation curve. Consequently, the mismatch between CDM and the RAR at low acceleration is serious.

In contrast, MOND does fine. It explains the data at all observed acceleration scales, not just a narrow window. The agreement now is better than is depicted with these older data, but this is already good. The only objection one might raise is that the lowest accelerations obtained from gravitational lensing for early type galaxies are offset from the prediction of MOND. (The open triangles sit above the zero residual line in the lower right panel.) This is largely rectified in subsequent analysis, as an experienced astronomer might expect, but this didn’t prevent people from leaping at this mild discrepancy as evidence against MOND. It would be, if it were true. It would also be bad news for LCDM, as these same data are even more discrepant from the models at left. This is a good example of the bias that infects the field: any discrepancy from MOND is seen as a win for dark matter – even when dark matter suffers the same problem (or worse).

Central Surface Density Relation

In MOND, the observed mass determines the kinematics through the modified Poisson equation. Just as lower accelerations mean larger mass discrepancies, so too do lower surface densities mean lower accelerations. Consequently, one expects a relation between the characteristic surface density of a galaxy and the amplitude of the mass discrepancy it evinces. In ignorance of that, Erwin de Blok and I discovered that low surface brightness galaxies were dark matter dominated. It wasn’t just “gee, there’s a lot of dark matter here;” the amplitude of the discrepancy correlates with central surface brightness.

This can be quantified by the central surface density relation:

Fig. 2 from Lelli et al (2016). The central dynamical mass surface density as a function of the central stellar surface density (left) and stellar mass (right). Points are color coded by morphological type. The dashed line shows the 1:1 relation expected in the absence of dark matter; a fit to the data (dotted line) is consistent with the prediction of MOND.

This relation involves the central regions of galaxies. High surface brightness galaxies are far enough in the Newtonian regime (GΣ⋆≳a0G \Sigma_{\star} \gtrsim a_0) that they follow the one-to-one line: what you see is what you get. Lower surface brightness galaxies diverge from the one-to-one line, having systematically lower accelerations (GΣ⋆<a0G \Sigma_{\star} < a_0) and larger mass discrepancies (i.e., they appear to need more dark matter) as surface brightness decreases. There is no reason for this behavior in dark matter, for which the central surface density of stars is not a parameter of obvious relevance.

The central surface density relation is both natural and expected in MOND. I am not aware of a dark matter model that addresses this relation. The correlation with mass (right panel above) is often discussed, and is considered to be deeply meaningful by some. However, the correlation in the right panel occurs entirely because stellar mass correlates with surface brightness, albeit imperfectly, so the right panel is a blurry version of the left panel. The surface density of stars is the important parameter here, not their total mass.

Renzo’s rule

There are other ways to see the connection between kinematics and the distribution of observed baryons. Indeed, a connection was recognized empirically by one of the great 21 cm observers, Renzo Sancisi. To quote from his abstract from IAU 220:

In the inner parts of spiral galaxies, of high or low surface brightness, there is a close correlation between rotation curve shape and light distribution. For any feature in the luminosity profile there is a corresponding feature in the rotation curve and vice versa. This implies that the gravitational potential is strongly correlated with the distribution of luminosity: either the luminous mass dominates or there is a close coupling between luminous and dark matter.

Sancisi (2003)

The shape of the rotation curve correlates with the shape predicted by Newton for the baryons:

Two galaxies exemplifying Renzo’s rule. Images of both galaxies are shown together with their rotation curves (open points), Newtonian rotation curves for the observed stars and gas (gray lines), and the corresponding MOND rotation curves (blue lines). In the high surface brightness spiral NGC 6946, the compact central bulge component predicts a sharp inner bump in the rotation curve that declines before it rises again. In the gas-rich dwarf NGC 1560, there is a broad feature in the gas that is reflected in the rotation curve. (Adapted from Fig. 21 of Famaey & McGaugh 2012; images added.)

This phenomenology is common enough for Prof. Sancisi to notice through the experience of looking at lots of data. Indeed, he said it to me in person in 1995 when we had a heated debate about the interpretation of the Tully-Fisher relation. The correspondence he noted implies that baryons are important to the mass budget, in both high and low surface brightness galaxies. In contrast, the absence of surface brightness-dependent residuals in the Tully-Fisher relation implied that LSB galaxies were certainly sub-maximal, and HSB galaxies as well if one desires to avoid fine-tuning.

Our discussion was heated in the best way. We weren’t angry, just engaged. We understood both things could not be true, but apparently they were. I redoubled my efforts to look for residuals from Tully-Fisher, ultimately finding none after many years of checking. Renzo held off on publishing his statement (for eight years!) while he looked at more LSB galaxies. Both results were sustained at the level expected for astronomical data despite the contradiction they encapsulate.

The correspondence of features (sometimes referred to as “bumps and wiggles”) in galaxy luminosity profiles and rotation curves makes sense in HSB galaxies if they are maximal in the sense discussed above. If instead dark matter dominates, there is no reason for the rotation curve to reflect the features in the baryons. Indeed, it cannot: the observed bumps and wiggles are typically features like spiral arms that require disk self-gravity to support them. The dynamics of quasi-spherical dark matter halos simply can’t support features like that – the phase space of particle orbits is too different. Even if they could, which they can’t, there would be no reason for the correspondence: the DM halo might have its own features, which if its mass dominates, could be anywhere, not where we see features in the stars.

This issue becomes more pronounced in LSB galaxies. Since the mass discrepancy is large at all radii in LSB galaxies, the mass of the DM halo always dominates. There should never be a correspondence of features, and yet there are.

The only theory that satisfactorily explains both the correspondence of features in Renzo’s rule and the absence of surface brightness-dependent residuals from Tully-Fisher is MOND.

The acceleration scale

Threading throughout the data is the acceleration scale a0=1.2×10−10ms−2a_0 = 1.2 \times 10^{-10}\;\mathrm{m}\,\mathrm{s}^{-2} suggested by Milgrom. This shows up in the data in many ways. Three of these are summarized in this plot from the review by Lelli (2022):

Three indicators of the acceleration scale in galaxy data: the BTFR (left), the central sruface density relation (center), and the RAR (right). All three indicate the same acceleration scale within the uncertainties, and are well described by MOND (red lines). Adapted from Fig. 5 of (Lelli 2022).

The BTFR shows that all galaxies share the acceleration scale aBTFR=Vf4/(GM)a_{\mathrm{BTFR}} = {V_f^4}/{(GM)}. The acceleration scale aRARa_{\mathrm{RAR}} is where the RAR bends away from Newtonian behavior. Similarly, the surface density of the bend in the central surface density relation, ΣCSDR\Sigma_{\mathrm{CSDR}}, marks the acceleration aCSDR=2πGΣCSDRa_{\mathrm{CSDR}} = 2 \pi G \Sigma_{\mathrm{CSDR}}. These relations need not exist at all in a universe dominated by dark matter. Even if they do for some reason, there is no reason to expect they all share the same acceleration scale. Yet within the uncertainties, they do: aBTFR=aRAR=aCSDR=a0a_{\mathrm{BTFR}} = a_{\mathrm{RAR}} = a_{\mathrm{CSDR}} = a_0.

Cold dark matter is scale free, so an acceleration scale is not natural to it. That doesn’t prevent people from asserting it is. Kaplinghat & Turner (2002) do just that. The absurdity$ of this claim was immediately pointed out by Milgrom (2002), but this has not precluded either Kaplinghat or Turner from continuing to assert that they’ve explained that which they have not remotely explained. It’s more like a political talking point than science.

Exceptions

The table above lists some of the rules that the vast majority of galaxies obey. I emphasize vast majority because relations like Tully-Fisher would be unrecognizable if there were lots of exceptions. It wouldn’t be a relation at all. We need to understand the rules the majority obey – which we do not in the context of dark matter – before obsessing about potential exceptions. To do the latter is a classic case of missing the forest for the trees.

There are always exceptions in astronomy. These come in several flavors: (i) goofs, (ii) apparent exceptions that actually prove the rule, and (iii) genuine exceptions that falsify a theory (anomalies). The first category is extraordinarily common in astronomy, the second can take a long time to recognize, and the third are rare if they exist at all. New examples in each category are always being discovered, so it is a Sisyphean task to check every case.

The most common flavor of exception in astronomy is the straight-up goof (i). These are so common, the experienced astronomer is rightly skeptical of a story that lacks exceptions. In the case of MOND, there have been many galaxies that appear to be problematic but later turn out not to be. They’re just goofs. There have been so many examples of this, I have lost count. Over a hundred, easily.

The ultra-faint dwarf galaxy Boötes III provides a recent example of an ordinary goof. Ultrafaint dwarfs often have velocity dispersions well in excess of that predicted by MOND, but it is challenging to measure dispersions as low as predicted. In this case, Ting et al. (2026) “measure a velocity dispersion of σv = 1.69 +1.03/−0.85 km s−1, about six times smaller than the previously reported 10.7±3.5 km s−1.” The larger number has been known for a while and is strongly inconsistent with MOND; the new measurement is pretty much bang on what MOND predicts. Consequently, one can see how it is easy to leap to the wrong conclusion, especially with confirmation bias standing behind you ready to push as you look out over the cliff.

Apparent exceptions (ii) are outliers that appear to violate a rule, and do so with high significance. In these cases, it is the rule that is not always universal. Relations like the BTFR and RAR are predicted by MOND and hold for the vast majority of galaxies. There are, however, some genuine outliers.

One can imagine building a DM model that reproduces these things. (I’m not even requiring it to be satisfactory for the moment.) Then, when one encounters an object that falls off these relations, you might conclude MOND is wrong and the DM model is better because DM tolerates outliers better (often by virtue of having no good reason for the relation in the first place). Some objects happen not to follow the statistical happenstance of the DM model, while you can’t turn off the force-law in MOND, so the rule must always apply. Right?

The problem with this reasoning is that MOND does predict exceptions. Objects for which the external field is important should deviate from the main relation that holds for isolated galaxies. I have seen many cases where what looks like a failure of MOND is actually a corroboration once you consider the external field. Such cases are a problem for our hypothetical DM model: once we construct something up that explains a relation like the BTFR, outliers can happen, but should not depend on the acceleration of from an external field. The external acceleration from some external source simply has no role to play in dark matter models.

Finally, there are genuine anomalies (iii) that would indeed falsify MOND. Most examples that I have seen that seemed to be in this category have later turned out to be in one of the first two categories: simple goofs or predicted exceptions. Some cases are still under litigation, and new examples will be discovered in the future. Do I know that all these will all work out? No, of course not. Have I seen this movie enough times to have a well-founded empirical expectation that they probably will? Yes, I have.

Dark Matter as extra, invisible mass is practically falsified

Look at the table above again. Time after time after time, new observations have been made that were not predicted by dark matter but were by MOND. Dark matter simply does not succeed in predicting galaxy dynamics the way MOND does. That’s very telling.

Many scientists choose to ignore MOND’s predictive success, or have sought to downplay its importance. When they bother to do the latter, they usually restrict themselves to a single item, often in apparent ignorance of the rest of the table. For example, a common talking point is “MOND only fits rotation curves!” Never mind that “only” here is a falsehood. The “mere” ability to fit rotation curves is already a highly non-trivial result. Each and every galaxy has its own unique mass distribution and poses a separate test of MOND, just as every planet and every comet and every asteroid test Newton’s law of gravity in the solar system. We’ve made hundreds of these tests: the effective force law in galaxies is MOND.

More generally, it isn’t just that the relations listed in the table above were correctly predicted by MOND and not by dark matter. It is also that the post hoc dark matter explanations are not satisfactory. Sometimes they are mutually contradictory.

The only way to save dark matter is to contrive for it to look like MOND. It is hard to think of a more damning statement about an otherwise nebulous hypothesis. Dark matter could be anything, do anything, and yet the one thing it has to do is mimic the very precise and comparatively inflexible predictions of its chief rival.

The needle in the dark matter haystack. Galaxies might lie anywhere in this voluminous, multiparameter space, but in practice they inevitably seem to reside in the negligibly small part of the volume that “looks like” MOND.

Can a dark matter model be contrived to look like MOND? Many have claimed to do this, even asserted that it happens “naturally.” This latter assertion is the greatest abuse of scientific language in modern times: there is nothing remotely natural about it. If it were natural, it would follow naturally, and I would have found that and said so in the ’90s. A corollary is that the people who claim now to explain it naturally would not have spent the intervening decades loudly denying that it could be so before they suddenly knew it all along. Lord knows I’ve tried to build acceptable DM models, and there are always more (increasingly silly) things to try, so when I say that I do not think it can be done, at least not with conventional flavors of DM, it is a highly nontrivial statement^.

When the dark matter paradigm took off, we had lots of indications of mass discrepancies. Flat rotation curves required more mass than they eye could see; the gravitating cosmic mass density exceeded that attributable to baryons. The vast majority of dark matter candidates currently being contemplated are informed by that perspective. As such, they simply come up with a new particle that could provide the extra mass.

That approach was sufficient in the 1980s, but since then new shit has come to light.

Many items in the table above constitute new stuff that has come to light since the DM paradigm was established. It isn’t just that rotation curves are flat and therefore we need more mass. It is also that the amplitude of the flat rotation speed correlates with the baryonic mass (the BTFR). And that the kinematic acceleration correlates with that predicted by Newton for the observed distribution of baryons (the RAR). And the rest of the table. New shit has come to light! These things did not inform the development of the dark matter paradigm, and are not explained merely by invoking invisible mass. We need to reexamine the paradigm in that new light.

The BTFR and the RAR and the other observations detailed above all point to a strong connection between baryons and dark matter, completely the opposite of the original mandate. Extra, non-interacting, invisible mass might still suffice for cosmology, but explaining galaxy dynamics is more demanding. Just adding invisible mass does not explain the strong coupling with the observed distribution of ordinary baryons. A viable dark matter candidate needs to do this, but the vast majority of them have been constructed in ignorance (or denial) of the need to explain the MONDian phenomenology.

I can imagine a non-generic DM candidate might be engineered to satisfy all needs. There are candidates that attempt to do this, like dipolar dark matter or superfluid dark matter. This post is long enough, so I won’t say more about those here. What I am convinced will not work is relying on feedback to somehow change the essence of CDM to mimic MOND. That’s a pipe dream akin to profiting from stealing underwear.

? = feedback? (Underwear gnomes from South Park.)

The observed kinematics of galaxies as described above suffice by themselves to provide a practical falsification of dark matter as widely conceived – either CMD specifically or generic extra-mass DM, excepting only highly specific ideas that build-in MOND-like behavior. (I say a practical falsification because outright falsification is impossible with unseen entities.) There are other, independent reasons to doubt DM, like the apparent absence of the expected dynamical friction due to dark matter. There are of course reasons to persist with DM, but it needs to be more than some random particle that just adds mass to the universe.

It is not possible to make progress in the context of dark matter without addressing the observed phenomenology described above as a whole rather than the common, piecemeal, divide-and-deny approach. We will not consider alternative theories until we agree that dark matter, as currently conceived, is wrong. We are stuck in a rut, and have been for a long time.


*It also shows the rotation curve that would be measured from the gas, which differs from the actual rotation curve in many simulations. This seems to have led many simulators to disbelieve observed rotation curves, but this is a simulation problem not an observational problem. We know how to recognize and correct for non-circular motions in the data. These corrections are usually small and the data never look like these simulations. It’d be really obvious in the velocity fields of real galaxies were messed up in this way. (Real galaxies are often messed up, just not in the ways seen in LCDM simulations.)

#There can also be nuisance parameters like distance and inclination. These are measured independently and ideally would be held fixed, but of course there are uncertainties on these values so one can marginalize over the range of allowed possibilities. The same is true in DM halo fits.

$Milgrom’s rebuttal is quite thorough, so I don’t want to pile on. But the acceleration scale appears in diagrams like the RAR that plot an observed kinematic acceleration (gobs\mathrm{g}_{\mathrm{obs}}) against one obtained from the observed baryons (gbar\mathrm{g}_{\mathrm{bar}}). In terms of dark matter, gobs=gbar+gDM\mathrm{g}_{\mathrm{obs}} = \mathrm{g}_{\mathrm{bar}} + \mathrm{g}_{\mathrm{DM}}. K&T talk about the dark matter; but have no model for the baryons, which are essential to both axes of the RAR. They make a hand waving argument that a0a_0 corresponds to the edge of galactic disks, which it does not – that’s what low surface brightness galaxies had already taught us by then. So they don’t explain the acceleration scale at all.

^I’m sure galaxy formation theorists can be found who will sanguinely assure us that all that needs to be done can be done, it’s just a matter of tweaking this or that. So why haven’t they succeeded in thirty years of effort? So far, they’ve mostly just come up with more elaborate versions of models I already tried and rejected as obviously unworkable. Making them more elaborate doesn’t make them less wrong.

Ghostly galaxies in the news

Ghostly galaxies in the news

I am mostly finished with a post following on from what would be required to make a convincing dark matter detection that explains why it will never happen. I’ve been nearly done for several weeks, but haven’t had time to complete it. Time carries on, and during that time a story appeared in Quanta magazine about observations claiming to be the final nail in the coffin for MOND, all the usual talking points we’ve covered here before, blah blah blah. But since it was in the news, I felt obliged to hop on social media (ug) and push back against the tidal wave of confirmation bias. So I’m just gonna reproduce that thread here, maybe adding further commentary if I can find some copious spare time.

First, some context: we’re talking about ultradiffuse galaxies in the vicinity of NGC 1052. These objects are abnormally large for their luminosity, so very diffuse. (Very low surface brightness in my 1996 terminology, ultradiffuse in that of van Dokkum et al. 2015.) I’m not a fan of describing them as “ghostly,” but low surface brightness galaxies have been described as ghostly before. Maybe “ghostly” is not entirely misplaced here, as one possibility is that they have been tidally whacked out of equilibrium and are slowly expanding towards an ultimate dissolution, fading like ghosts into the intergalactic graveyard.

But that’s getting ahead of the story. Let’s cut to the thread:


Story out in Quanta about the diffuse galaxies DF2, DF4, & DF9. It conveys the message that these objects are the nail in the coffin for MOND. Is it so?
www.quantamagazine.org/triplet-of-g…

Link preview

Triplet of ‘Ghostly’ Galaxies Hints at What Dark Matter Is — and Isn’t | Quanta Magazine

A collision may have left these galaxies without dark matter. That spells trouble for alternative gravity theories.

www.quantamagazine.org/triplet-of-ghostly-galaxies-hints-at-what-dark-matter-is-and-isnt-20261014/

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Oct 14 at 2026 at 1:31 PM

When DF2 was first reported, it was portrayed as being fatal for MOND. And so it appeared at first glance, with an observed velocity dispersion of 3 km/s where MOND predicted 20 km/s for an isolate object. Pretty bad! But a casual glance showed that it wasn’t an isolated object, so the EFE matters.

A more careful analysis yields a MOND prediction of 13.4 +4.8/-3.7 km/s. Contemporary reanalyses of the data estimated an observed velocity dispersion close to 12 km/s. That sounds more like corroboration than refutation: arxiv.org/abs/1804.04167

MOND and the dynamics of NGC1052-DF2

The dwarf galaxy NGC1052-DF2 has recently been identified as potentially lacking dark matter. If correct, this could be a challenge for MOND, which predicts that low surface brightness galaxies should…

arxiv.org/abs/1804.04167

Lots of observational resources have been applied since then; I won’t attempt to review it all here. The new paper offers two independent measurements, which are 6.3+3.1/-3.6 and 9.2+3.8/-4.5 km/s. These are both consistent with 10 km/s, which is within the 1 sigma uncertainty of the prediction.

So MOND is falsified at one sigma.

That’s assuming these systems are in equilibrium, which is not obvious. We have to invoke some pretty dramatic non-equilibrium events to strip them of dark matter (in the conventional picture, galaxies cannot form without dark matter so we have to get rid of it. Difficult but not impossible.)

To be fair, we should worry about non-equilibrium situations in MOND as well. Fortunately, simulations have been done that illustrate what happens to a dwarf galaxy that gets tidally disrupted by a close passage with a giant galaxy. arxiv.org/abs/astro-ph…

Dwarf satellite galaxies in the modified dynamics

In the modified dynamics (MOND) the inner workings of dwarf satellites can be greatly affected by their mother galaxy-over and beyond its tidal effects. Because of MOND’s nonlinearity a system’s inter…

arxiv.org/abs/astro-ph/0005194

The velocity dispersion departs from the equilibrium prediction and the scale size of the dwarf slowly expands. This actually provides a natural explanation for the large half-light radii of these DF dwarfs. tritonstation.com/2025/09/15/n…

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Non-equilibrium dynamics in galaxies that appear to lack dark matter: ultradiffuse galaxies

Previously, we discussed non-equilibrium dynamics in tidal dwarf galaxies. These are the result of interactions between giant galaxies that are manifestly a departure from equilibrium, a circumstan…

tritonstation.com/2025/09/15/non-equilibrium-dynamics-in-galaxies-that-appear-to-lack-dark-matter-ultradiffuse-galaxies/

I’ve no idea if this is what happened in these systems as I have not+ been around several Gyr to watch it happen. But there are certainly giant galaxies in the neighborhood, so it’s no less plausible than the bullet collision hypothesis in the DM context.

DF2 has consistently been portrayed as fatal for MOND despite consistently being shown not to be a problem. I’ve given up writing formal papers showing this, as nobody cares. They just hear what they want to hear, which is that MOND is wrong. Indeed, after the 2018& incident I swore off doing so.

It’s sad, but there is no point in correcting the scientific record while the relevant scientific community suffers a catastrophic failure of objectivity.

Strong words? Are you a scientist working in the field? Have you heard of DF2? If so, did you know its interpretation was in dispute? Or only that it falsifies MOND?

If you have heard of DF2, have you also heard of Crater 2? It has a tiny velocity dispersion (2.7 km/s) that makes no sense in LCDM but was correctly predicted a priori by MOND. arxiv.org/abs/1610.06189

MOND Prediction for the Velocity Dispersion of the `Feeble Giant’ Crater II

Crater II is an unusual object among the dwarf satellite galaxies of the Local Group in that it has a very large size for its small luminosity. This provides a strong test of MOND, as Crater II should…

arxiv.org/abs/1610.06189

Crater 2 and DF2 are similar in a number of respects. Why should we obsess about one while ignoring the other? That’d be an example of the failure of objectivity.

Or how about And XXVIII? You know that one? That was the golden test we proposed in arxiv.org/abs/1301.0822

Andromeda Dwarfs in Light of MOND

We compare the recently published velocity dispersions for seventeen Andromeda dwarf spheroidals with estimates of the MOND predictions, based on the luminosities of these dwarfs, with reasonable stel…

arxiv.org/abs/1301.0822

That came out in favor of MOND – as did all of the rest* of the dwarf satellites of Andromeda. arxiv.org/abs/1308.5894

Andromeda Dwarfs in Light of MOND. II. Testing Prior Predictions

We employ recently published measurements of the velocity dispersions in the newly discovered dwarf satellite galaxies of Andromeda to test our previously published predictions of this quantity. The d…

arxiv.org/abs/1308.5894

Does MOND have problems? You bet! But it has lots and lots of predictive successes that people seem to be oblivious to. Many of these are predictions that cannot even be made in the context of dark matter. DF2 is a good example: we didn’t anticipate it was DM-free, we inferred that from the data.

If instead DF2 had a large velocity dispersion (like DF44), then we would happily report that it had a surplus of dark matter. There’s no prediction to test; it’s just whatever the observations dictate.

MOND makes actual predictions that mostly come true. This being astronomy, there are always some dodgy cases. So DM appears to be better in those cases by virtue of not making a testable prediction. Does that make it better science?

There still remains no satisfactory explanation in terms of dark matter for MOND’s predictive success. If you can come up with one, then perhaps dark matter can be viable. Without that, just complaining about what MOND gets wrong without engaging with what it gets right is intellectually dishonest.


+Apparently I omitted the “not” in the Bluesky thread. I may be old, but I’m not that old.

&Before that time, I was extremely conscientious about examining claims to falsify MOND. I’ve done this for literally hundreds of cases. The recurring theme had been that these claims are greatly exaggerated. Not all, of course, but more often that not, it was simply a matter of doing the analysis properly and including the errors. The current example is a good one: the claim is that these ultradiffuse galaxies have no dark matter (or MONDian mass discrepancy). The data are indeed consistent with that. But there are uncertainties in all data, and here they encompass MOND’s predictions as well.

At any rate, I no longer see correcting the mistakes of others as a constructive use of my time.

*Except And V. That one has a somewhat too-high velocity dispersion for MOND. If I were to follow the template offered by many examples in the literature, I should loudly advertise how this one case falsifies MOND while downplaying how MOND correctly predicted the velocity dispersions of the other three dozen dwarf satellites of Andromeda.

Here are the predicted and observed velocity dispersions for the dwarf satellites of Andromeda from McGaugh & Milgrom 2013a:

Figure 1 from McGaugh & Milgrom 2013a: The predicted and observed velocity dispersions of the dSph satellites of M31. Each bin along the x-axis represents the corresponding dwarf: And I is 1, And II is 2, and so on. Round symbols are the predictions of MOND. Large symbols assume M*/LV = 2 M☉/L☉. Small symbols represent M*/LV = 1 M☉/L☉ at the lower end of the predicted range and M*/LV = 4 M☉/L☉ at the upper end. The calculation in the isolated case is shown as a filled green circle; that when the EFE dominates is shown as an open circle. The appropriate case is shown for each mass-to-light ratio based on which predicts the lower velocity dispersion, as discussed in the text. Data from the SPLASH survey are shown as squares: open squares are from Kalirai et al. (2010); filled squares are from Tollerud et al. (2012). Triangles represent the data of Collins et al. (2010, 2011). In the case of And II, the early measurement of Côté et al. (1999) is shown as an ×, while the recent detection of rotation in this case is included in the measurement of Ho et al. (2012, star). The recent upper limit in the case of And XXII (Chapman et al. 2012) is shown as the downward pointing triangle.

Note that And IV is blank here because it turned out not to be a satellite of Andromeda as initially thought, but rather a background object. This was anticipated by MOND and later confirmed, so was in effect another successful prediction. (I do not remember the story behind the other blank cases offhand.)

This plot is from the follow-up paper, McGaugh & Milgrom 2013b. Note that these were almost all a priori predictions. (Some of the above were too, but observers were doing the follow-up work on newly discovered satellites so fast that these numbers appeared in the literature before we could finish writing the prediction paper. Not that it matters, as the predictions of MOND are not flexible beyond some range in the stellar mass-to-light ratio, so it predicts the same thing whether the answer is known or not.) And XXVIII was a golden case because it was far enough from Andromeda to be in the isolated rather than EFE regime, greatly reducing the uncertainty in the prediction (since it only depends on observations of the dwarf and not of the EFE from M31).

Figure 1 from McGaugh & Milgrom 2013b: Predicted and observed velocity dispersions of recently measured dSph satellites of M31. Each bin along the x-axis corresponds to the number of each dwarf for And XVII through And XXIX. The predictions from Paper I are shown without adjustment as circles for ϒ* = 1 (lower points), 2 (middle points), and 4 M☉/L☉ (upper points). Circles are filled if the dwarf is in the isolated regime for the assumed ϒ* and open if it is dominated by the external field of M31. The error bars on the predictions include both observational uncertainties in the photometry and a factor of two uncertainty in ϒ* around ϒ* = 2 M☉/L☉. Observed velocity dispersions are taken from Tollerud et al. (2012, small squares), Tollerud et al. (2013, large squares), and Collins et al. (2013, triangles or, in the case of upper limits, horizontal bars). The number of stars used to determine each velocity dispersion is shown next to the corresponding datum. Points appear in the chronological order of their appearance in the literature from left to right within each bin. Collins et al. (2013) find that And XXVII is not in equilibrium, in contradiction to a necessary assumption of the analysis.

Note the last line of the caption: we know there are cases that are out of equilibrium. There are certainly other systems in the universe that are out of equilibrium, like the tidal dwarfs for which we also found an apparent lack of dark matter. We haven’t been shouting that these falsify MOND (as we had hoped to be able to do! that’s why we did the experiment!) because we recognized that there was no way the equilibrium predictions could apply. Perhaps that is also the case for the ultradiffuse dwarfs discussed above.

There have been a few more dwarfs discovered since these plots were made. So far, these have been consistent with MOND. I include the plots from the cited papers because that’s what is handy and few people seems to be aware of this work. If a prediction is published in the literature but no one ever reads it, was a prediction even made?

The External Field Effect and Tests of MOND on Cosmological Scales

The External Field Effect and Tests of MOND on Cosmological Scales

The effective force law in galaxies is MOND. At high accelerations, this is the same as Newton’s inverse square law: g=GM/r2g = GM/r^2. At low accelerations, the deep MOND limit is g=a0GM/rg = \sqrt{a_0GM}/r. The transition between the regimes occurs at g=a0=1.2×10−10ms−2g = a_0 = 1.2 \times 10^{-10}\;\mathrm{m}\,\mathrm{s}^{-2}.

The effective force law in galaxies (data) looks like MOND (line).

This is well established in galaxies. The question naturally arises whether this holds on larger scales. A recent paper by Gallardo et al. says no:

On scales from 30 – 230 megaparsecs, we constrain the gravitational acceleration between pairs of halos$ at separation r to be g ∝ 1/rn with n=2.1±0.3

so Newton’s n = 2, not the n = 1 of the deep MOND limit. Here is their result for the kinematic SZ effect*.

Fig. 1 from Gallardo et al.: Pairwise kSZ measurements [μK] as a function of the physical separation of galaxy clusters [Mpc].

Here the blue line represents Newton’s n = 2 with the boost of dark matter as appropriate for LCDM. This matches the data better than the yellow line with n = 1 representing MOND. But is that the right representation?

Although the bulk of our analysis is model independent, we have also shown the theoretical curves appropriate for MOND. This test is the largest-scale direct test of MOND to date. Our formalism is an excellent approximation to MOND in the low-acceleration regime

This much is good. It’s a nice, general approach to represent 1/r force laws like the deep MOND limit. But is that the right thing to do here?

that said, we have not included the external field effect (EFE) in this analysis. This can modify the acceleration law in the case where the baryonic gravity of an object is less than the gravity of its larger environment, and has been used to explain# the velocity dispersion of satellite galaxies. However, this effect likely does not affect our analysis.

because the EFE absolutely affects this analysis.

They go on to say words about how the EFE is a thing that applies on small scales (hence the allusion to dwarf galaxies) but they’re looking at large scales so it shouldn’t matter. If only that were true.

The length scale does not matter in MOND. The acceleration scale matters. Is the chunk of the universe over which they’re integrating in the low acceleration regime? Yes. Is the EFE relevant on these scales? Also yes.

Some EFE from large scale structure is unavoidable. Everything feels the tug of everything else. In the deepest depths of the intergalactic medium, the EFE is tiny (maybe 1% of a0) but also ubiquitous. In the absence of a prominent mass, it dominates. That’s exactly the regime this experiment probes.

The force in the MOND EFE regime looks like a boosted version of Newton: g≈(a0/aEFE)GM/r2g \approx (a_0/a_{\mathrm{EFE}})\,GM/r^2. The boost factor a0/aEFEa_0/a_{\mathrm{EFE}} is what we interpret as dark matter: the total mass that we need in excess of what we observe.

So, what Gallardo et al. falsify is a straw man version of MOND in which the force law has n = 1 forever and always. That’s only true in the absence of the EFE, for which the prediction is n = 2 – as observed.

There may be a test in the amplitude of the boost factor. We already know that is in the ballpark that’s required for the cosmic dark matter, Ωm/Ωb≈a0/aEFE\Omega_m/\Omega_b \approx a_0/a_{\mathrm{EFE}}, as this is one of the first things I checked when I was surprised to encounter MOND in the previous century. So I don’t see much hope in distinguishing between the two this way.

Reality is more complicated. The amplitude of the EFE throughout intergalactic space depends on the cosmic distribution of mass. This was calculated by Chae et al. (2021), who found it to vary with both distance (from us) and position on the sky:

Fig. 5 from Chae et al. (2021): Variation of eN,env (the Newtonian% amplitude of the EFE in units of a0) with distance for the galaxies in the NSA and Karachentsev catalogs. Individual galaxies are color-coded by right ascension (R.A.). The black lines show the mean trend (solid) and standard deviation (dashed) in bins of distance.

It’s even worse than this, because most of the baryons are in the IGM. It makes a difference to the amplitude of the EFE how clumpy these are. They’re probably somewhat clustered into filaments and walls, but we don’t really have a great empirical map of that. So: the EFE is definitely there at a level that matters, but precisely what that level might be is rather hard to say. My best guess today is ~2% of a0, but it could be more, and probably is in places. Could be less in the midst of the deepest voids.

Gallardo et al. do not cite Chae et al. (2021), nor evince awareness& that there are relevant constraints on the EFE on the scales they probe. Note that the distance range of the figure from Chae et al. (2021) goes out to 150 Mpc, which is where the relevant data of Gallardo et al. are (their last two points are largely irrelevant). So we are talking about very much the same length scales, which does matter to the integration they do. That integration per force averages over any real variations in the EFE.

There is nowhere you can go to completely escape the EFE. A rather profound fact that appears not to be widely appreciated is that there is a minimum cosmic acceleration of order ∼10−12ms−2\sim 10^{-12}\;\mathrm{m}\,\mathrm{s}^{-2}.


$Saying “halos” here is quite the linguistic bias since there are no dark matter halos in the theory they’re testing.

*There are less obscure ways to do this, but this is what they chose to do and I’m not going to attempt to unravel it here. Ask them.

#Not just explain, but predict. Repeatedly. Until the same ability to predict kinematics in advance of observation is demonstrated by LCDM, I’m going to remain underwhelmed by post-facto tests that claim to favor LCDM over MOND.

%If I recall the notation correctly, the actual EFE is a0eN,env\sqrt{a_0\,e_{\mathrm{N,env}}} and in these units a0=1a_0 = 1 so log⁡(eN,env)=−3\log(e_{\mathrm{N,env}}) = -3 corresponds to an EFE that is 3% of a0a_0. This plot was made assuming maximal clumping of the IGM baryons which gives an upper limit, so the reality is probably less; see Fig. 6 of Chae et al.

&I wonder what the refereeing process looked like. I can imagine there being no mention of the EFE initially, with a referee (or perhaps one of the many coauthors) asking if they ought to maybe worry about it and the majority choosing to wave their hands through it. That’s what it looks like.

This is not the first time I’ve encountered the misconception that the EFE can be ignored on cosmic scales. It happened in the submitted version of Aguirre et al. (2001). In that case, I was the referee, and pointed out that the EFE had a profound effect on what they were saying about Lyman-alpha absorbers. To their credit, they listened and corrected it. I think they still kinda low-balled the amplitude of the EFE, but it went from a factor of tens problem to a small problem or maybe not a problem at all.

While on the topic of refereeing, I note that papers that find MOND wanting generally get less scrutiny than those which find that it works. Hardly surprising, once framed that way. I only mention this because there are certain toxic science communicators who rush to social media to denounce the incompetence of the referee any time a MOND-positive paper appears. Funny how they can be sure of the competence of the referee in a process they are not in any way privy to. If you take the time to think about it, you can more likely presume that the MOND paper has been held to a higher, not lower, standard, and weigh its credence appropriately.

The contradiction in our dark matter

The contradiction in our dark matter

It is straightforward to falsify theories that make clear predictions, should they happen to be wrong. It is impossible to falsify ideas that involve invisible components.

Specific theories of dark matter (e.g., WIMPs) can be seen to be increasingly unlikely, but can they be falsified outright? If we decide that WIMPs have been practically falsified – to all intents and purposes – that doesn’t mean dark matter is wrong, just that we’ve spent the past four decades building dozens of giant experiments costing billions of dollars and frustrating thousands of careers barking up the wrong tree. The unseen forest that is the ‘dark sector’ is vast; there are limitless opportunities to bark up other wrong trees.

How could we know if the entire dark sector is a non-entity? On many occasions, I’ve had colleagues say to me that they would “only consider MOND as a last resort.” OK, so when do we know we’ve reached that point? After an eternity of searching for unseen, undetected non-entities seems a little late.

This is the bind we’re in. Most of us (scientists working in the field) are unwilling to consider something as radical-seeming as MOND until dark matter has been falsified. But dark matter cannot be falsified. So we patch up our hypotheses accordingly, rinse and repeat with every new crisis#. This has been going on for nearly my entire career, to the point that I now see junior scientists who seem to think this is how science is supposed to work. Why wouldn’t they? They’ve known nothing else.

I empathize. I started from the same place: there has to be dark matter, it has to be non-baryonic, it is almost certainly a new particle and that new particle is almost certainly a WIMP. It was the hardest thing to realize and accept that we could be wrong, wrong, wrong, and wrong on all counts. I worked incredibly hard to avoid that conclusion. I take solace only in the fact that at every epoch in human history we’ve had a cosmology that we were absolutely sure$ was right but that later turned out not to be. Maybe we’re a blessed generation who finally got it right. Or maybe we’re just the latest in a long line of brilliant savants who fooled themselves into thinking we understand more than we actually do.

I remain unwilling to say that dark matter has been falsified because I don’t think it is falsifiable. That, in itself, is usually considered to be a bad thing for a scientific theory. Perhaps at some future point it will be portrayed that way for dark matter, but in the present I’ve heard plenty of scientists pretend like it is somehow a good thing. Certainly it makes a fertile playground for theorists, so I guess good/bad is a matter of perspective. I suppose an infinite forest of trees in a conveniently unobservable dark sector is an irresistible opportunity for a dog! with an insatiable bladder.

I do, however, think that dark matter has been practically falsified. If I’m wrong about that, it is possible to demonstrate. To be clear, I don’t just mean WIMPs. I mean dark matter as an explanation for the mass discrepancies observed in extragalactic systems. No kind of dark matter* can suffice. I came to this conclusion before I really knew anything about MOND, which is why I was receptive to it. Others haven’t had that experience, so aren’t.

I don’t expect other scientists to accept that an entire paradigm is wrong because I say so. I do, however, expect them to acknowledge that the dark matter hypothesis should be falsifiable. It is incumbent on each scientist to establish for themselves criteria by which that conclusion could be reached, should it be appropriate.

For me, the problem is the contradiction present in the dynamical data for galaxies. We simultaneously require galaxy disks to be maximal and also for them not to be maximal. The only way to avoid this contradiction is to engage in fine-tuning: one must build a model in which everything works out just so. Since dark matter is not otherwise falsifiable, a requirement for fine-tuning& is pretty much the worst thing we can say about it.

The contradiction as framed by others

The contradiction that concerns me has certainly been noticed by others. Usually, they choose to come down on one side or the other. The problem is that they’re both right.

On the one hand, it is clear observationally that the luminous mass matters to the dynamics of galaxies. For example, Swaters et al. note that

the luminous mass dominates the gravitational potential in the central regions, even in low surface brightness dwarf galaxies

which is to say, disk galaxies are maximal. We’ll explore what that means below, but you can see the effect by eye:

Rotation curves color coded by galaxy surface brightness. There is an almost perfect rainbow variation that is plain to see. The gravitational potential traced by the rotation curve correlates well with the distribution of stellar mass. (Adapted from McGaugh 2020.)

On the other hand, there are no residuals from the Tully-Fisher relation.

Residuals from the Tully-Fisher relation as a function of size at a given mass. Blue points are star-dominated galaxies; cyan points are gas-dominated. Compact galaxies are to the left, diffuse ones to the right. The red dashed line [δlog(V)/δlog(R) = -1/2] is what should happen with maximal disks: more compact galaxies should rotate faster at a given mass. This is what Newton predicts, but galaxies didn’t get the memo. (Adapted from McGaugh 2005.)

The inference from this observation is that galaxy disks cannot be maximal. As Courteau & Rix put it,

The case of δlog(V)/δlog(R) = -0.5 expected% for a maximal disk is ruled out

which is to say, disk galaxies are not maximal – even the high surface brightness (HSB) disks that dominated their sample.

They say this because maximal disks – or even those that contribute noticeably to the mass budget at small radii – predict deviations from the Tully-Fisher relation. They did this by intentionally focusing on the point where the stars should contribute the most. I’ve shown similar things many times, so here let’s let LCDM advocate Frank van den Bosch demonstrate it:

Model galaxies (left) of the same mass but with different spin parameters (van den Bosch 2001). In this model, spin determines size and surface brightness: lower spin galaxies are more compact and have higher surface brightness. This causes them to evince higher velocities that should cause residuals from Tully-Fisher, but these are not observed (right, McGaugh 2021).

So galaxies cannot be maximal. Only they have to be to have the observed correlation between the luminous mass distribution and the kinematics, as seen in the first figure above. Well, which is it? Are all galaxies maximal? Or none? Or can they both^ be right?

Maximal disks

Maximal disk is a technical term that is well known to people who work on the subject but not outside that relatively narrow&& field. So what do we mean by this term?

The rotation curve of NGC 6946. The solid blue line shows the expected rotation curve for the visible mass including both stars (dashed line: stellar disk; dot-dashed line: bulge) and atomic gas (dotted line). The stars suffice to describe the inner rotation curve, illustrating the case of maximum disk. The red points are the rotation curve measured optically (Daigle et al. 2006; Epinat et al. 2008); the orange points that measured with radio interferometric observations of the gas (Boomsma et al. 2008; I’ve suppressed the overlap for clarity). The thin line is the prediction of MOND; the black line is the implied dark matter distribution.

In essence, a maximal disk is one in which the stars provide practically all the mass at small radii. The depiction of NGC 6946 above illustrates maximum disk. Sure, the rotation curve flattens out at large radii and we need to invoke dark matter. But the observed stars explain the amplitude and shape of the inner rotation curve quite well. In this case there is a compact bulge at the center of the galaxy that causes a sharp rise in the rotation curve right from R = 0. (This is an example of Renzo’s Rule.) The disk (plus bulge) is maximal in the sense that we cannot attribute any more mass to them without exceeding the observed rotation curve.

The amplitude of the portion of the rotation curve due to the stars depends on their mass-to-light ratio. While this cannot exceed maximum disk, it could be lower. So conceivably, the good match to the shape of the observed rotation curve is a chimera, and really this galaxy is dark matter dominated. That is a possibility many seem to have embraced, but while it might work for the disk, it does not work for the bulge. As we suppress the contribution of the stars as Courteau & Rix argue we must, then the rotation curve looks more and more like that of the dark matter halo alone. That goes up and flattens out (and ultimately must turn over again somewhere beyond the edge of the data) but it has no features.

The rotation curve of NGC 6946 as above but with the stellar mass reduced by a factor of two. This disk is submaximal, contributing less than the implied dark matter.

One thing the rotation curve due to the dark matter halo cannot do is go up then down then up again. Yet that is exactly what it needs to do to explain the inner peak inside 1 kpc if the bulge component is not maximal. I suppose we could have a smaller dark matter halo inside the main dark matter halo that does this, but its mass distribution would have to be practically identical to that of the bulge. That’s insane. Why would we invoke a second dark matter halo when the stars are right there?

In this case, the stars have the right mass for what we expect from stellar populations. There was a long debate historically about whether the optical band mass-to-light ratios for maximum disk were consistent with those expected from stellar population synthesis models. For a long time they looked close but a bit high. This difference has pretty much gone away now that we have access to near-infrared data: the two are consistent, and having a stellar mass-to-light ratio much below the maximum disk value for high surface brightness disks becomes problematic from a population perspective.

Indeed, the 3.6 micron M*/L = 0.37 M☉/L☉ in the case depicted for NGC 6946 with a maximum disk. That’s reasonable but on the low side for what is plausible for the stars in a mature spiral galaxy like this. Halving that strains credulity, so there is no room for a second inner halo, or even for the cusp predicted** for the primary cold dark matter halo. Stellar mass really does seem to dominate in the inner parts, just as Swaters et al. said.

LSB galaxies

The issue that confounded me was whether the low surface brightness (LSB) galaxies I was working on were maximal or not. My inital expectation was that LSB galaxies would be stretched out versions of HSB galaxies. I expected them to shift off of the Tully-Fisher relation and follow the line δlog(V)/δlog(R) = -0.5. They did not do that. If I didn’t have them be maximal, I found that I could explain pretty much any slope other than the one observed (δlog(V)/δlog(R) = 0). That required fine-tuning to perfectly balance the lesser contribution of stars in LSB galaxies which we had to back fill with dark matter just so. I spent ages running around in circles trying to make that work. Every time I thought I had succeeded, I realized I had assumed something that made it so: tautologies abound.

If we want to explain the shapes of rotation curves as seen up top, we need the stars to contribute to the gravitational potential. For that to work for LSB galaxies, we have to turn maximum disk up to eleven:

The low surface brightness, gas rich dwarf DDO 154. The lines have the same meaning as above, with the case of maximum disk in the left panel and that natural for stellar populations at right. The difference in disk mass is a factor of ten.

A crazy-high stellar mass-to-light ratio is what happens if we just ignore what we know about stars and just focus on the kinematics. But we do know a lot about stars. Population models indicate stellar masses that are very submaximal. Even boosting the mass-to-light ratio doesn’t get us very far. LSB galaxies aren’t really maximal in the same sense as HSB galaxies, and there is even less room for the expected cuspy halos that are already problematic when the stellar contribution is small.

Fine tuning is unavoidable

Even if we ignore what we know about stars, we still have a fine-tuning problem. The lack of a shift in the Tully-Fisher relation with either surface brightness or radial size implies that disks are all the same mass surface density. So we observe a wide range of surface brightness, but the surface mass density is always the same. That makes no sense, and is just another example of squeezing the toothpaste tube: we can make a model look OK from one perspective as long as we don’t look from another.

Worse, we still need to explain the role of the luminous mass in LSB galaxies. These are dark matter dominated at almost all radii, and yet the distribution of the observed stars and gas is predictive of the kinematics. This is a contradiction to Newtonian dynamics. The only theory that does this right – and predicted it a priori – is MOND. But that’s too horrible to contemplate, so we shield our eyes and ignore%% one or the other set of inconvenient facts. As a result, the field has become moribund, and will remain so until we free ourselves of our invisible demons.


#We’ve experienced so many crises that we seem no longer able to recognize new ones. JWST observations of high redshift galaxies follows a well-worn trajectory: an observation that contradicts the standard model is made, much huffing and puffing ensues, the theorists get to work constructing implausible models, these are accepted as patching up the hypothesis (whether satisfactory or not), and the field moves on as if nothing happened.

$To give one historical example, prior to Hubble’s discoveries in the 1920s, it was thought that the Milky Way was the entire universe. Certainly there were no other galaxies comparable to the Milky Way:

“No competent thinker, with the whole of the available evidence before him, can now, it is safe to say, maintain any single nebula to be a star system of coordinate rank with the Milky Way. A practical certainty has been attained that the entire contents, stellar and nebular, of the sphere belong to one mighty aggregation.” [i.e., the Milky Way]

-Agnes Mary Clerke in The System of the Stars (1890)

!It used to be that one would not claim a detection of dark matter until all astrophysical alternatives had been exhausted. Now it seems to be the fad to claim a detection first on the off-chance it works out later. I already peed on that tree! It’s mine!

*Excepting some sort of hybrid “dark matter” that is invented to do what ordinary dark matter cannot. By ordinary I mean CDM, WDM, SIDM, and every other variation on particle physics that simply invents new mass with no consideration of how the observed galaxy dynamics comes about. That would include primordial black holes and various macroscopic DM ideas (e.g., MACHOS, strange nuggets). Coming up with half-baked ideas for new particle dark matter is big business these days, but any idea not informed by observed astrophysics (which are most of them) is doomed to fail.

Examples of hybrid dark matter that are informed by observed astrophysics include dipolar dark matter and superfluid dark matter. Regardless of whether these specific cases are viable, the point is that the observed dynamics are a fundamental aspect if nature and require a commiserate explanation. Simply throwing in some extra mass with some fine-tuned feedback models can never provide a satisfactory explanation. Note that coming up with extra mass is mostly done by particle phenomenologists while feedback models are built by numerical astrophysicists. There is very little overlap between these communities; they pretty much just take it on faith that since dark matter has to exist, the part they don’t know about will magically work out.

&The classic example of fine-tuning in the sense that I mean is the Ptolemaic model of epicycles and deferents. If one adds enough of these and tunes them just so, anything can be fit. Note that epicycles are not explicitly falsifiable for this reason; we rejected them because they got ridiculously complicated and there turns out to be a more parsimonious explanation. The same thing holds now for dark matter and MOND.

%This slope is expected because Newton teaches us that V2 = GM/R. δlog(V)/δlog(R) = -0.5 follows from taking the logarithm of this at fixed mass. Galaxies are observed to span a large range of radius at a given mass, but not a corresponding range in circular velocity.

^Yes, they can both be right, but not with dark matter. Only MOND naturally explains both observations simultaneously.

Also, for the hyper vigilant, Courteu and Rix (1999) use a slightly different definition of velocity than I do in this Tully-Fisher residual plot. I went through all that in McGaugh & de Blok (1998) and in McGaugh (2005) and it makes no difference to the discussion here.

&&A vote we held at a conference on disk dynamics in Rome in 2000. The question of whether disks were maximal was posed; most people voted no based on the statistical lack of residuals from Tully-Fisher. After the vote, one of the dissenters noted that those who voted in favor of maximal disks were the people who actually worked in the subject. Those of us with other concerns were persuaded by the statistical evidence because we didn’t engage with the details of real, individual galaxies in the same way.

**The NFW halo famously gets the inner shape of the rotation curve wrong (the cusp-core problem), but it is also wrong at intermediate radii and at large radii. Other than that it’s great.

%%A common excuse I here for this behavior is that galaxies are “small” and nonlinear – complicated entities that we can never hope to understand, so whatever they do can be ignored as irrelevant. As a scientific argument, that’s pathetic. Galaxies should be complicated in LCDM, but in observational reality they’re kinematics are sufficiently simple that they obey a single effective force law. That’s one thing they should not do, just as a complicated set of epicycles and deferents shouldn’t always add up to the inverse square law.

The blinding influence of the Bullet Cluster

The blinding influence of the Bullet Cluster

A few posts back, the issue of the Bullet Cluster came up in the comments. I was still working my way up to addressing that in a full post, so I limited myself to making a sociological observation based on my experience:

People who invoke the bullet cluster in response to queries about MOND are usually doing so to deflect from the need to engage with it.

That is a general observation that was not aimed at anyone in particular, but it was made in response to a comment citing Don Lincoln saying this, so Dr. Lincoln hopped into the comments to reply:

Or…and bear with me here…some people actually find the Bullet Cluster (and the DF2/DF4 situation) to be persuasive.
FWIW, I’m a physicist, working in the field. And my views have changed over the years. In the early 1990s, I was pretty sure that dark matter was MACHOs. When MACHO, OGLE and all them disproved that conjecture, I then strongly favored MOND (broadly defined…not necessarily Milgrom’s conjecture, but rather the much vaguer paradigm that inertia or gravity needed some improved understanding). However, in the modern day, Bullet and Dragon Fly have again changed my leaning.
Yes, yes, the Bullet Cluster is moving awfully fast. Yes, yes, it’s a problem for LCDM. But this isn’t the same level of problem as it poses for modified physics. For LCDM, it is simply an unusual entry on the tail of a known velocity distribution, while the problems it poses for MOND-ish issues is more central.
Now, this is your page and you are allowed to have an echo chamber and sycophants…no problem. But to characterize those who disagree with you as somehow not being thoughtful is just…sloppy. And dismissive. And patronizing.
The broad community might be wrong. But, you know what? So could you.
FWIW, it will be difficult to convince me of >>ANY<< solution without DM being produced in particle accelerators. Indirect measurements are background-prone. And direct measurements, while super helpful, will tell us where to look in accelerators. (Think the DAMA debacle.)
My fear is that dark matter is real, but it only interacts gravitationally or far weaker than the weak force. If that’s the case, our grandkids will be having this argument.

Don Lincoln, posting as Science Guy, 4 June 2026

In my experience, Dr. Lincoln is one of the more reasonable people connected to this debate. He says some things that are fair, and also some things that are revealing of the current sociology, so it is worth exploring point by point.

Or…and bear with me here…some people actually find the Bullet Cluster (and the DF2/DF4 situation) to be persuasive.

The sentence starts with sociology: the “bear with me” trope is an assertion of reasonableness before it is demonstrated, which it may or may not be – often it is employed by people who think they’re being reasonable when really not so much. But in this case, yes: lots of people find the Bullet Cluster to be persuasive. My complaint is not that. It is that they cite the Bullet Cluster as an excuse to not think further about MOND and stifle debate. That has been my lived experience.

The Bullet Cluster achieved the status of a totem object long ago:

I myself find clusters persuasive. As I’ve written repeatedly, they pose a real problem for MOND. The Bullet Cluster is just one example, and an extremely weird case at that. The universe is big, so there’s always a unicorn somewhere: astronomers long ago learned not rely too much on the weirdest object in a category. So I’m more impressed when people cite clusters in general as a problem for MOND, both because that’s true, and because it evinces awareness of the subject beyond the totem that has become the go-to code word for dismissing a predictively successful paradigm without understanding it.

Dr. Lincoln also cites “the DF2/DF4 situation.” I’m not sure why that comes up if the Bullet Cluster by itself is entirely persuasive. This is a topic very much in my expertise, and I do not find it all that persuasive. I spent some time reading up on this situation – the data keep changing – in hopes of saying something quantitative here, and that left me feeling it was even less persuasive than I had given it credit for.

The DF2/DF4 (and now DF9) galaxies have become prominent examples of galaxies that appear to lack dark matter. Such objects are a problem for MOND, because you can imagine stripping away dark matter (though it is hard to do) but you can’t switch off the force law. However, the prominence of these particular objects has more to do with advertising (a ridiculous amount of attention has been devoted to these few weird objects) than with how convincing they are. That’s not to say they aren’t important, just that their importance is exaggerated.

These DF galaxies are a good example of cognitive dissonance in action. People give more weight to evidence that supports what they already believe, and less to that which supports things that don’t. In this case, the other evidence is all the other galaxies in the universe. This is a classic case of missing the forest for a few outlying trees.

I used to spend a lot of time fact-checking claims# to falsify MOND. So when DF2 was first announced as a problem for MOND with great fanfare, I went to check. It was not. Indeed, had I known of this object’s in advance, I could have used MOND to correctly predict its velocity dispersion as I did with Crater 2 and the 30+ dwarf satellites of Andromeda. This rather quenched my enthusiasm for fact-checking every claim, so I vowed* not to spend more time doing so.

This is a damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don’t situation. If incorrect claims are left uncontested, the community seems to assume they are correct. If one spends the time to write a paper, you are diverted from your own research. Once published, much of the community remains unaware of the rebuttal, or chooses to believe their preferred narrative (another example of cognitive dissonance).

So before writing this post, I found myself breaking my vow. These are interesting objects, and there is now a new one (DF9). All three of these dwarfs have unusually large diameters and low velocity dispersions, about 8 km/s. That’s pretty much what we expect for the stars we see. No dark matter, no MOND. Even though it is really weird to find galaxies without dark matter in a universe made of dark matter that requires dark matter to make galaxies, it is even worse for MOND, if true.

There are devils in the details. The data for DF2 have changed repeatedly, both its distance and velocity dispersion. Which version to believe? Working my way through the literature, I found the statement “We find an instrumental resolution σinst = 0.375 Å (13.0 km s−1)” and decided to stop right there. A rule of thumb in this business is that you shouldn’t try to measure a velocity dispersion smaller than your instrumental resolution because, well, you can’t resolve it. 8 km/s is smaller than 13 km/s. Now, in principle, you can tease more information out of the data, but that’s hard to do. In the best case, the two dispersions add in quadrature, so to infer 8 km/s, what you’ve really observed is √(82+132) = 15 km/s. That’s not much different from the instrumental resolution, and I’ve seen plenty of claims where that obscured a correct MOND prediction (e.g., Cetus). For DF2, we expect an intrinsic velocity dispersion of ~13 km/s, which is sensitive to the distance that keeps changing and to the EFE of the rough neighborhood in which these dwarfs find themselves. That corresponds to observing √(2*132) = 18 km/s. So we have to be able to distinguish between 15 and 18 km/s. That can be done, but it is a lot less clean than the difference between 8 and 13 km/s sounds.

There are other corrections for broadening and binaries, so the above is the sanitized version. Binaries are hard to correct for in these unresolved objects. In nearby ultrafaint dwarfs where we measure velocity dispersions one star (or unresolved binary) at a time, the correction can be dramatic. Boötes III provides a rececnt example, having: “a velocity dispersion of σv=1.69+1.03−0.85 km s−1, about six times smaller than the previously reported 10.7±3.5 km s−1.” That takes it from having lots of dark matter, completely inconsistent with MOND, to bang on what MOND predicts. So you can perhaps appreciate my relutance to put too much credence in every claim made about measurements of these ultrafaint/ultradiffuse galaxies. This is the hardest place to work, and my experience has been that as the data improve, so too does agreement with MOND.

Is DF2 even a significant problem? Accepting the updated numbers as stated, corrected (and perhaps overcorrected) to reflect all the above effects, Keim et al. report two independent measurements for DF2 that give 6.3+3.1-3.7 and 9.2+3.8-4.5 km/s. In our paper we found that MOND predicts 13.4+4.8-3.7 km/s. Those are all consistent within the stated uncertainties: the one-sigma error bar of the lower measurement overlaps with that of the prediction,& and the higher measurement is in as good agreement with MOND as could be expected given the uncertainty on both measurement and prediction. Dark matter advocates would be lauding such agreement to high heaven if they could% make this prediction.

That’s a long segue for a parenthetical comment by Dr. Lincoln. It takes a lot of words to address five, and it isn’t for me to judge if the interpretation he seems to take for granted is better or worse than the alternative I describe. Even so, there’s a saying about this that might apply.

OK, let’s return to Dr. Lincoln’s comments. In case you’d forgotten – which I almost did, having spent so much time trying to track down DF2 data – this is a post about the sociology illustrated by Dr. Lincoln’s comments.

my views have changed over the years. In the early 1990s, I was pretty sure that dark matter was MACHOs. When MACHO, OGLE and all them disproved that conjecture, I then strongly favored MOND (broadly defined…)

My views have changed over the years too. In the early 1990s, I was completely sure that the dark matter was WIMPs. Had to be. I remember joking with other astronomers about how futile the search for MACHOs would be. As Rob Kennicutt put it in 1995 at IAU 171: “What are the MACHO people doing? Have they never heard of Big Bang Nucleosynthesis?” I recall shrugging and thinking that these projects wouldn’t detect dark matter, but they would provide a great variable star database. And so it came to pass.

We have here two different recollections of the same time period. Both are valid, but which is a fair representation of the community? Could be both. Gradually I’ve come to recognize that there were [at least] two distinct communities working on this issue, one in physics and one in astronomy. They don’t need to be echo chambers to develop mutually exclusive attitudes; the networks of communication can be broad and yet largely distinct. There is also a temporal aspect. I’m told by astronomers a few years older than myself that baryonic dark matter (particularly brown dwarfs) was favored in the late 1970s; indeed, that it seemed pretty obvious at that time. This changed quickly and was mostly (though never totally) supplanted by non-baryonic dark matter by the mid-1980s. Even that depended on the sub-community – those of us more concerned with cosmology rejected baryonic dark matter as nonviable while it remained reasonable to those of us more concerned with the dynamics of individual galaxies. I had a foot in both camps, and it metaphorically tore me apart.

In the mid-1990s, I was wrestling with our new data for low surface brightness galaxies. It did not make sense in terms of dark matter. Any kind of dark matter. I began to fear that the entire dark matter paradigm was no longer viable, a conclusion I fought tooth and nail to avoid. I worked much harder trying to save dark matter than I ever did subsequently working on MOND. More importantly, I think I was only receptive to MOND^ because I was already deeply concerned for the viability of dark matter. There lies the great schism: to me, dark matter was already practically falsified. No one else had that horrible, visceral experience – it was like losing a dear friend – so most of the community glibly ignored the surprising successes of MOND.

Maybe I was wrong to doubt dark matter? This is why I challenge other scientists to state their own criteria for its falsification. I don’t expect them to accept something so important just because I say so. But I do say so, and for good reasons – reasons most of them seem to be unaware of, so we’re starting from very different places. But if dark matter is a scientifically valid physical hypothesis, then it should be falsifiable. How can we tell if it is wrong?

I’m old enough to remember when cuspy dark matter halos were an absolute prediction of cold dark matter. That prediction failed, yet we find ways for CDM to persist. If we gave up on CDM as easily as we give up on MOND, we would have stopped talking about it thirty years ago.

Right. Where were we?

Yes, yes, the Bullet Cluster is moving awfully fast. Yes, yes, it’s a problem for LCDM. But this isn’t the same level of problem as it poses for modified physics. For LCDM, it is simply an unusual entry on the tail of a known velocity distribution, while the problems it poses for MOND-ish issues is more central.

I agree with this and I don’t. The issue is more central for MOND because a theory that seeks to supplant dark matter appears to need dark matter. So why bother?

It’s a good point, and as I’ve said over and over and over again, I find the situation in clusters profoundly dissatisfactory for MOND. Perhaps it even falsifies it. But a loss for MOND isn’t an automatic win for non-baryonic dark matter (which also requires new physics), so we bother because of everything else MOND does right that dark matter does not.

A common misconception here is that the unseen mass in MOND is necessarily non-baryonic. That’s a logical fallacy that stems from the sloppiness of the term “dark matter” which many of us equate with non-baryonic dark matter. Non-baryonic dark matter requires new physics. MOND requires new physics. So it sounds like we need double-new physics here when in fact we “just” need some undetected baryons$ – something we need in both paradigms:

The agreement or mismatch between baryonic mass and observed velocity in LCDM (top) and MOND (bottom). As discussed before, the accounting of baryonic mass LCDM is better in galaxy clusters while MOND is better in all other gravitationally bound extragalactic systems.

What about the collision velocity? How bad a problem this is for LCDM depends on how unusual an entry it is in the tail of a known velocity distribution. There are many assessments of this; they range from “pretty unlikely” to “oh hell no.” For example, Lee & Komatsu found “the probability of finding 3000 km s-1 in (2-3)R 200 is between 3.3 × 10-11 and 3.6 × 10-9.” That’s worse than an unusual entry, that’s “oh hell no.” Various other workers hedge this way and that so it comes across as less improbable, but the most optimistic assessment I saw recently (and cannot now relocate) is that there is only a 10% chance of the Bullet Cluster existing in the volume of the universe that contains it. That’s over the whole sky, not just the 5% of the sky that has been surveyed in a way that could find it. So pretty unlikely, but not necessarily fatal. Ascencio et al. attempt to quantify this, finding that the “Bullet Cluster is in 2.78σ tension” with LCDM – that’s bad, but not fatal – but that including El Gordo results in a “combined tension” “estimated as 6.43σ”. That exceeds the usual 5σ threshold for fatal.

There is the obvious temptation to believe the assessment we prefer. There are analyses in which the Bullet Cluster collision speed doesn’t seem all that bad, though it never looks right. I’ve worked on this too, and we found it was pretty much impossible, and it looks to me like the more favorable analyses may be squeezing the toothpaste tube to make the collision lees improbable by shifting that to improbability in other parameters. One I recall requiring a ridiculously perfect, head-on bullseye collision.

In contrast, the high collision speed is entirely natural in MOND. That’s what happens as a consequence of the enhanced long-range force law. It just falls out, no muss, no fuss. So it isn’t just improbable in LCDM; it happens because of MOND, just like every other surprising result for the past forty years. This is why I say galaxy clusters ruin everything. We can’t say they favor one paradigm or the other without under-weighting some aspect of the data.

I guess that was enough science, because now we get to sociology:

to characterize those who disagree with you as somehow not being thoughtful is just…sloppy.

I may be wrong, but I am pretty much the antithesis of sloppy. Sloppy is describing me of characterizing those who disagree with me as not being thoughtful. I do not doubt the intellectual energy of people working on dark matter. I do doubt how deeply most of them have allowed themselves to think about MOND. I know this problem well, as I suffered it myself early on. MOND is too horrible to contemplate. Surely we can’t be that wrong! So we find some reason not to do so. The most common reason such people cite is the Bullet Cluster. It is my lived experience that lots of scientists (though certainly not all) fall into that category. If anybody finds that insulting, then they should do better to not be that person. I find it strange if not surprising that a scientist is offended at being challenged to think more about a topic about which he is, to use his word, dismissive.

FWIW, it will be difficult to convince me of >>ANY<< solution without DM being produced in particle accelerators. Indirect measurements are background-prone. And direct measurements, while super helpful, will tell us where to look in accelerators. (Think the DAMA debacle.)
My fear is that dark matter is real, but it only interacts gravitationally or far weaker than the weak force. If that’s the case, our grandkids will be having this argument.

OK, so this makes sense, but just let me note that it assumes that the solution to the mass discrepancy problem is a novel form of dark matter that can be created in an accelerator. That would be great if it could be done. All plausible dark matter particle candidates for which such a detection is plausible are pretty much excluded at this point, and building a bigger accelerator promises zero surety of success.

More generally, I don’t accept that the solution is a novel form of particle dark matter. That’s very much not in evidence! But I do share his fear of a non-interacting particle. I call that the Angel Particle because, indeed, we can argue about how many angels can dance in the core of a neutron star forever and ever. I have a greater fear, that by attending only to the failings of MOND while ignoring its successes – and a lot of scientists are guilty of that – we help to usher in a new age of dark epicycles.


I will not be available to respond to comments for a while, so I have deactivated them for this post.


#Initially it came as a surprise how often claims to falsify MOND did not hold water. That has since become my experience with the vast majority of such claims. There is a powerful temptation to see in the data what one wants to see.

*For the most part, I’ve kept to this vow. It is hard not to check what MOND predicts when one hears claims that “it can’t do this!” when my experience, over and over again, is that usually it can. Not always, but usually.

&I decline the opportunity to refine the prediction by chasing the continually changing distance estimate. Regardless of how close the current numbers are to the underlying truth, this is certainly not a five sigma exclusion of MOND.

%The prediction cannot be made with dark matter. I’ve tried. Indeed, I’ve tried many things – there are multiple paths by which one might attempt to do this, and they do not yield a consistent answer. Worse, the one thing that is clear is that for low mass galaxies like these, there is a lot of scatter in DM halo mass at a given luminosity. The natural prediction from this is that galaxies of the same (low) luminosity have very different velocity dispersions. Yet the opposite is observed; luminosity is strongly predictive of kinematics. So we can fault MOND for predicting 3 km/s for Antlia 2 when 6 km/s is observed because it makes a prediction. We don’t fault LCDM because it does not make a comparably precise prediction to test.

^Unlike Dr. Lincoln, I mean MOND specifically. I considered other modified gravity theories, but they fail. It is very obvious when the force law is wrong. Only MOND worked at the time and continues to work today. That it even comes close is telling us something profound, a lesson the community steadfastly refuses to learn.

$I can hear from across the ocean Dr. Kroupa shouting that they’ve solved this problem.

The local missing baryon problem

The local missing baryon problem

Last time, we started talking about the data in the recent paper The Baryonic Mass-Halo Mass Relation of Extragalactic Systems. Here, we’ll put on our dark matter hat, and use the data to make an accounting of the mass – both the dark matter and the baryons in all their various forms. From this conventional perspective we will obtain a method for relating what we see to what we don’t. In the context of LCDM cosmology, this provides an alternative approach to abundance matching. It also provides a test: are the two consistent?

The conventional picture we have in mind is a baryonic galaxy residing in a dark matter halo bathed in a background of intergalactic matter.


Fig. 1 of McGaugh et al. (2026): Conceptual elements of a galaxy: the stars (yellow/blue) and atomic gas (green) of NGC 6946 (Spitzer 3.6µ and 21 cm data: F. Walter et al. 2008) are shown embedded in an extended dark matter halo (black). The dark matter density decreases continuously with radius so the halo has no hard edge, but for convenience we adopt the common convention that the radius r200 marks the boundary of the dark matter halo and the dividing line between the circumgalactic medium (CGM) and the intergalactic medium (IGM; orange). The stars and atomic gas illustrated here appear within r < 20 kpc while r200 ≈ 220 kpc (not shown to scale).

I’ve talked here about the stars and gas a lot because that’s what we see. These are the essential components that define a galaxy and comprise the mass that correlates with rotation velocity to make the baryonic Tully-Fisher relation (BTFR). I’ve talked a bit about the stuff between the galaxies, the intergalactic medium (IGM), but I don’t think I’ve previously had cause to talk much about the circumgalactic medium (CGM). As the name implies, this is gas in the vicinity of a galaxy, but not in the galaxy itself – at least not the part we can readily see. In the notional picture above, the distinction between the CGM and the IGM is the boundary of the dark matter halo that nominally demarcates gravitationally bound from unbound material.

Notional is doing a lot of work here. There’s a lot of gas in the IGM, and some of it is certainly in the vicinity of galaxies, so in that regard counts as circum-galactic. But there’s no hard and fast distinction between these components just as there’s no hard edge to a dark matter halo. Our brains don’t like that, so we impose notional boundaries and proceed as if these are meaningful.

Proceeding thus, we expect our dark matter halo* to contain its fair share of the cosmic baryon fraction, fb = Mb/M200 = 0.157 according to the Planck flavor of LCDM cosmology. We can test this by adding up all the baryons and comparing that to the total mass enclosed by r200. This is straightforward for the stars and gas we see, but not for the stuff we don’t see – both dark matter and the gas in the CGM.

There are some measurements of the CGM, but these tend to be statistical in nature (if we stack data for a bunch of galaxies, we sorta see something), not the precise, individual, galaxy-by-galaxy measurements that we have for the stars and atomic gas. The stars and atomic gas are the mass in the extended Tully-Fisher relations we discussed previously, and are the bulk of the normal material in the galaxies we see. The bulk of the CGM lies at much larger radii, beyond the stars and atomic gas, but within the notional edge of the dark matter halo, as depicted above. Since we don’t measure it directly in individual galaxies, we’re gonna leave the mass of the CGM as an open question rather than something to be included in the sum of known baryonic mass.

The situation is even murkier for the dark matter, which we don’t see at all, so we don’t have a good way to measure the “total” mass of dark matter halos. This isn’t even a well-defined quantity in principle since halos are not expected to have a hard edge. Conventionally, we adopt the mass within a radius that contains a density two hundred times the cosmic critical density, r200, as the notional edge. There are obscure historical reasons for this choice that I do not have the patience to describe. One could make other choices, arguably better choices, but r200 is the most common choice used in the literature so we’ll stick with it here. The halo mass is the mass enclosed by this radius, M200. If one goes through the math, it turns out that the circular speed of a test particle, V200, orbiting at r200 scales with the Hubble parameter [h = H0/(100 km/s/Mpc)] such that V200 = h r200 when V200 is in km/s and r200 is in kpc. The dynamical mass (rV2/G) can then be written

M200=(3.3×105M⊙km−3s3)V2003.M_{200} = (3.3 \times 10^5\;\mathrm{M}_{\odot}\,\mathrm{km}^{-3}\,\mathrm{s}^3)\,V_{200}^3.

That is a lot of huffing and puffing to get a way to relate the halo mass to something we can (kinda sorta) measure. The flat rotation velocity Vf has always been taken as the signature of the dark matter halo. One therefore expects V200 ~ Vf. Indeed, these quantities cannot differ by much if dark matter is what explains flat rotation curves. However, the notional radius of the dark matter halo where V200 occurs is much larger, by roughly an order of magnitude or more, than the radius where Vf is measured. So they need not be identical, depending on the halo model. So to relate what we measure to what we’d like to know we define a little ol’ fudge factor, fv, such that:

Vf=fvV200V_f = f_v V_{200}

If a rotation curve stays flat indefinitely (as our empirical experience suggests), fv = 1. If instead dark matter halos behave as they should in LCDM, then the rotation speed should gradually decline as we approach the halo’s edge so that fv > 1. How much greater?

One way to estimate the fudge factor fv is to fit dark matter halo models to data. This process does not directly measure V200, but it does provide an estimate of that quantity based on the data available a smaller radii. One can do this for as many halo models as one has the patience to consider. For example, here are the results for two common halo models, the traditional pseudo-isothermal halo first adopted to explain flat rotation curves and the CDM-expected NFW halo:

Figure 2 from McGaugh et al. (2026): The observed flat velocity Vf as it relates to the fitted V200 for pseudo-isothermal (left panel) and NFW (right panel) halos (Li et al. 2020). Filled points have formal uncertainties <20% in V200; open points are less accurate fits. The solid line shows Vf = V200. The gray line in the right panel shows Equation (2a) of Katz et al. (2019), which corresponds roughly to fv ≈ 1.4.

The result for pseudo-isothermal halos is consistent with fv = 1, as expected – this model was adopted to make flat rotation curves. There is nevertheless some scatter. This typically happens because the observed rotation is not observed to be flat over a large enough range of radii to enforce flatness further out (as often happens in dwarf galaxies) or because the stars account for so much of the mass over the observed range that the inferred dark matter component is still rising (as often happens in bright, high surface brightness galaxies). This sort of haziness is inevitable when one only measures the inner few percent of the notional virial radius.

The result for NFW halos is approximately fv = 1.4, albeit with a lot more scatter. This happens for the same reasons as above, with the additional problem that the dark matter profile in real galaxies rarely looks like NFW. Of all the many halo models considered by Li et al. (2020), NFW consistently performs the worst. One is forcing a fit of a function that would rather not. One signature of this misfit is the occurrence of very large V200 for dwarf galaxies with small Vf. Taken literally, this would mean that some of the smallest dwarf galaxies reside in dark matter halos that outweigh those of giants like the Milky Way. This seems absurd, and it is. For example, by this approach, the dwarf galaxy NGC 3109 residing just outside the Local Group outweighs the Local Group and both its giants, Andromeda and the Milky Way, put together. But it is pretty clear from the local velocity field that the entire Local Group is not orbiting this little dwarf.

The estimation of huge V200 for galaxies with small Vf happens because of the cusp-core problem. The density cusp predicted by NFW expects a curved shape for the inner rotation curve while the data show a more gradual, quasi-linear rise. Any decent fitting program will realize that it can make a curve look like a straight line if it stretches it out enough, so it does exactly this by making the halo very large. That sorta fits the data, but it makes no physical sense. Between this systematic effect and the large scatter induced by the other effects discussed above, one is better off inferring V200 from Vf with a fixed fudge factor. So we’ll do that, leaving the exact value of fv as an open question, but noting that for most objects it almost certainly resides in the narrow range

1≤fv≤1.4.1 \le f_v \le 1.4.

That’s a lot of words to say the observed flat rotation speed gives us our best kinematic estimator or the dark matter halo mass. In this context, bear in mind the small scatter in the extended Tully-Fisher relations. This contrasts with the large scatter seen in the fits above. This strongly implies that Vf is more closely tied to the underlying mass^ than are the model-specific halo fits to the entire rotation curve. That might seem counterintuitive given that Vf is only a portion of the rotation curve (albeit a well-defined portion). However, it makes more sense when one considers that rotation curve fits must consider the contribution of stars as well as dark matter. Since the stellar mass-to-light ratio is never perfectly known, there is a degeneracy between the two that contributes to the scatter seen above. That variation is not real, it’s just an artifact of the fitting procedure. But when we get to large radii, beyond the confounding effects of the stellar population, the signature of the dominant mass becomes apparent in the flat rotation speed.

We saw above that we expect the halo mass M200 to correlate with V200. We observe that baryonic mass Mb correlates with the flat rotation velocity Vf. The natural assumption is that the stuff we see is proportional to the total (mostly dark) mass while the observed flat velocity is a property of the halo. Hence Mb ~ M200 and Vf ~ V200. This simple argument has been the basis for many papers claiming to explain the Tully-Fisher relation over the course of many years. This would be entirely satisfactory if it weren’t so completely wrong.

Here we need to introduce another fudge factor, mb, that relates the mass we see to the halo that spawned each galaxy:

Mb=mbM200M_b = m_b\,M_{200}

The obvious assumption is that mb is a constant for all galaxies, in which case Tully-Fisher follows because Mb ~ M200 ~ V2003 and V200 ~ Vf. The wee problem is that this predicts a Tully-Fisher relation with slope 3: Mb ~ Vf3 when we observe one with slope 4: Mb ~ Vf4. In order to reconcile these two, our new fudge factor cannot be a constant. Worse, we need to fine tune it to transform the predicted power law into the observed one: mb ~ Vf. That… doesn’t make any sense.

We can refrain from thinking and plunge ahead to simply plot the baryon fraction. While we’re at it, let’s also plot the stellar mass fraction m* = M*/M200 because that is more commonly discussed in the literature. (Often stellar masses are available for galaxies without the corresponding gas mass measurements.) These fractions have to be increasing functions of circular velocity, or equivalently, mass (mb ~ Vf ~ Mb1/4):

Figure 4 from McGaugh et al. (2026): The stellar mass fraction as a function of stellar mass (top) and the baryonic mass fraction as a function of baryonic mass (bottom). Data and symbols as in Figure 3 with the additional distinction that large squares in the top panel represent the sum of the stellar mass of all galaxies in a group or cluster while small squares are the stellar mass of the brightest galaxy only. The horizontal line is the cosmic baryon fraction fb = 0.157 (Planck Collaboration et al. 2020). The colored lines in the top panels show the stellar mass–halo mass relations from abundance matching given by B. P. Moster et al. (2013; dashed–dotted green line), P. S. Behroozi et al. (2013; dashed–triple dotted pink line), and A. V. Kravtsov et al. (2018; red dashed line). The black line in the lower panel is mb = fb tanh(Mb/M0)1/4 where fb is the cosmic baryon fraction (0.157) and M0 = 5 x 1013 M☉.

To be specific, I’ve computed the halo mass assuming fv = 1. Different assumptions just slide the data up and down; the trend persists. This is discussed more in the paper if you’re interested in such details.

This gives a nifty way to relate what we can see to what we can’t. There’s a simple formula:

mb=fbtanh⁡(MbM0)1/4m_b = f_b \tanh\left(\frac{M_b}{M_0}\right)^{1/4}

where fb = 0.157 is the cosmic baryon fraction and and M0 = 5 x 1013 M☉ is the scale where the function bends, transitioning from the Mb ~ Vf4 of the BTFR that holds over most of the mass range to the mb = fb of rich galaxy clusters. The precise value of the turnover mass is not well constrained, as it happens in the one place that is not well sampled by the available data. Indeed, there is nothing special about the functional form; it is simply a choice that transitions nicely from one regime to the other. There’s no physics in it&. Still, this is a useful way to estimate the halo mass of pretty much any extragalactic object just by summing up its observed baryonic mass.

Indeed, this kinematic mass-matching relation is better than the widely used abundance matching relations in that it has less scatter. Abundance matching generally relies on stellar mass; that results in more scatter for the same reasons discussed for Tully-Fisher. This is particularly apparent at the low mass end of the top panel above, where galaxies of the same circular velocity (halo mass) have very different stellar masses. This goes away when baryonic mass is used instead.

There is reasonable agreement between abundance matching and kinematics at intermediate masses. The lines representing various abundance matching relations parallel the kinematic data. The offsets that are apparent can be cured by an appropriate choice of fv. Always a free parameter to the rescue there is.

At the high mass end, things go amiss again. Partly this is because abundance matching relations reference the stellar mass of the “central” galaxy. The picture is that each halo contains one central galaxy with many satellite galaxies in subhalos, so what matters is the stellar mass of the central. This is overly simplistic: galaxy clusters are messy, the brightest galaxy isn’t necessarily at the center, and most have substructure with multiple groups rather than a single hierarchy. Besides that, the stellar mass tells you little about the halo mass without further environmental context: a galaxy with M* ~ 4 x 1011 M☉ could reside in halo masses spanning a couple of orders of magnitude.

Setting aside the issue of centrals, there is a serious tension for individual high mass galaxies. The stellar mass fraction suggested by kinematics keeps going up where that of abundance matching turns over. This is due to the linearity of the Tully-Fisher relation compared to the knee in the Schechter function shape of the stellar mass function. The two don’t match up, as discussed previously. This same tension has long been with us; in the ’90s we were concerned with the difference between “the luminosity function normalization” and “the Tully-Fisher normalization.” This tension never went away. Still, the tension between abundance matching and kinematics doesn’t seem tragic, and might be remedied with some appropriate finagling of both the baryon fraction and the velocity fudge factor.

But where are all the baryons? They’re all accounted for in clusters, which reach the cosmic baryon fraction. But in no other system is the checksum complete. There is a missing baryon problem locally in each and every dark matter halo below the cluster scale. To confound matters further, there is a fine-tuning problem: the amount of missing baryons scales precisely with the amount of observed baryons.

The logarithmic plot above may understate the magnitude of the problem. To clarify this, we can plot the ratio of missing-to-observed baryons on a linear scale, at least in part:

Figure 7 from McGaugh et al. (2026): The ratio of missing-to-observed baryonic mass as a function of baryonic mass. Data and symbols are the same as above. The ratio is linear in the bottom half of the diagram, then switches to logarithmic in the top half. Spiral galaxies are shown twice: once with fv = 1.0 (solid blue circles) and again with fv = 1.4 (small open circles). The Milky Way is the yellow point at the top of the gray band, which shows the range from zero CGM to that required to explain all of the locally missing baryons when fv = 1. Stars represent the CGM measurements of Milky Way–mass galaxies by Miller & Bregman (2015), Bregman et al. (2022), and Zhang et al. (2026) from bottom to top. These suffice to explain the missing baryons provided that fv ≈ 1.4. This explanation becomes progressively less plausible for lower mass galaxies.

The scatter blows up when we plot linear ratios; this is an artifact of error propagation. Nevertheless, it is helpful to see that the local missing baryon problem is not subtle. It is already a factor of ~2 for groups and ~3 for bright galaxies. It’s not as if we’ve misplaced a few percent of the baryons. Most of the baryons that should be associated with galaxy dark matter halos are not in evidence.

This problem has been known for a while, but doesn’t seem to be acknowledged to be a problem. Not all baryons need condense down into the central galaxy; some might be left behind, still mixed in with the dark matter halo. The widespread assumption seems to be that the missing baryons are probably in the CGM.

Accounting for the missing baryons with gas in the CGM almost works in bright galaxies like the Milky Way where we need “only” a factor of a few. Recent estimates suggest that the CGM is comparable in mass to the stars, or even somewhat more. These are very uncertain, as this mass is dispersed in diffuse gas over an enormous volume, and the total mass estimates often involve large extrapolations: the CGM is detected most readily nearby the central galaxy, but most of its implied mass is way far out near r200. Accepting these estimates at face value leads to the star symbols in the plot above. This makes the checksum complete provided the halo is not too massive, as happens if fv ≈ 1.4. This is what we expect for NFW halos, so it might work out if those were viable. However, there is a bigger issue.

The local missing baryon problem gets progressively worse for lower mass galaxies. For 1010 M☉ galaxies – not all that much smaller than the Milky Way (Mb = 7 x 1010 M☉), the problem isn’t a factor of two or three: there are ~6 baryons missing for every one that is observed. For 109 M☉ galaxies, the deficit is an order of magnitude. For even lower mass galaxies, the difference is so large we have to abandon the linear plot lest the interesting parts for bright galaxies get scrunched into invisibility. By the time we get to small dwarf galaxies of 106 M☉, the ratio of missing-to-observed baryons approaches 100:1. It is not plausible to imagine that the CGM of dwarf galaxies explains this deficit. (And yes, we’ve looked.)

A common explanation for this variation is that low mass dark matter halos have shallower potential wells, so have a harder time holding onto their baryons. Supernova can drive material out of galaxies; these go off with the same energy regardless of the galaxy they’re in so they may be more effective at blowing baryons out of lower mass systems. There is sufficient energy (IF properly% distributed) to completely unbind the baryons, so they might wind up in the IGM, defeating any hope of completing the checksum. This is the sort of argument that sounds clever but fails to address the real problem. The difficulty isn’t just ridding ourselves of these meddlesome baryons, it is getting rid of exactly the right amount each and every time.

As awkward as it is to realize that most of the baryons that should be in low mass halos are not in evidence, it is not difficult to imagine ways in which this might happen, like the aforementioned supernova-driven galactic winds. The more dire aspect of the problem is the fine-tuning. Galaxies of the same observed baryonic mass are always missing the same amount of baryons, whether that’s a factor of 2 or 10 or 100. If the visible parts of a dwarf galaxy are only 1% of the available baryons, you’d expect a lot of scatter. Sometimes a halo of that mass might have 2% or even 3% of its baryons condense to the parts we see. That would show up in the scatter in a way it does not: galaxies of the same circular velocity (halo mass) have the same baryonic mass every time. They don’t vary by factors of two (or more). So while we can build models that makes the baryon fraction just so, the fact that we can write a simple equation for it with practically zero scatter is profoundly uncomfortable.

An extra bit of weirdness is that in LCDM, galaxies are built hierarchically by merging small objects into large ones. This poses a teleological problem. Consider a small halo at high redshift. If it remains alone, then it it will contain a dwarf galaxy at low redshift that has a low baryon fraction. But if it mergers into a larger system, then by the current time that larger system has to have a larger baryon fraction. In effect, a low mass halo has to know where it will end up some billions of years in the future. Will it remain alone and unmerged? Better blow out all those baryons! Will it merge into a larger system? Better hang on to the right amount of baryons. Does that system merge into a still larger object? Hope it held onto even more baryons, in exactly the right amount at every step along dozens of mergers.

I can imagine all this happening in a stochastic fashion with the net result being that more massive systems wind up with a higher baryon fraction, at least on average. I cannot give credence to this process resulting in the small observed scatter. As people are always telling me, “galaxies are complicated.” Indeed, they should be – in LCDM. But in reality they’re not! They obey simple scaling laws, laws that do not follow naturally from LCDM.

The local missing baryon problem encapsulates one of the fine-tuning problems that has never been satisfactorily explained. This alone would be considered fatal for most theories. For LCDM, it is just another problem to be addressed through the eternal tweaking of models and simulations.


*Strictly speaking, M200 refers to all mass within r200, baryons as well as dark matter. I’m going to call it halo mass anyway, because that’s what we mean, the baryons are a small fraction of the total, and because that’s what everybody does in the literature. If we make some other choice for the definition of the mass of the halo, MΔ, then the inferred baryon fraction of an objects scales by M200/MΔ. The cosmic baryon fraction does not care what choice we make, so the implicit assumption is that one asymptotes to the cosmic fraction if one gets far enough out, irrespective of what rΔ we adopt. While this is a sensible assumption – individual objects must merge into the larger cosmos at some point – there is no guarantee that the universe cooperates. For example, the baryon fraction in galaxies declines with increasing radius, but that in galaxy clusters increases with radius. I’ve seen hints that it doesn’t really settle down to the cosmic (or any particular) value. These are only hints – considerable extrapolation is involved – so we’ll ignore this inconvenience and assume that the baryon fractions of individual objects do in fact converge to the cosmic value far enough out.

^It makes the most sense if the underlying total mass is the observed baryonic mass.

&I made a very similar fit in McGaugh et al. (2010) but didn’t publish it because there was no physics in it. Since then the field has been awash in abundance matching relations that were similarly fit sans physics. There has been much ink spilled justifying it post-facto with feedback, but I have refrained from this exercise in intellectual onanism.

%It is common to assume in simulations that a large fraction (50 – 100%) of the energy from supernovae is returned to the surrounding gas. This process is not resolved in cosmological simulations, all the energy return happens as part of the “subgrid” physics, so the feedback efficiency is set, in practice, to make things work out as well as possible.

Observationally, most of the SN energy finds its way out along the path of least resistance where the density of the surrounding gas is smallest (“chimneys”). This process couples to the surrounding gas with only a few percent efficiency.

Extended Tully-Fisher relations

Extended Tully-Fisher relations

Previously I had alluded to some of the major projects I’ve been working on. One has come to fruition and can be found on the arXiv and in the Astrophysical Journal&. It has taken many years to assemble the data in this paper, during which time the models purporting to explain some of it have evolved considerably while consistently failing to address the real problems they raise. There is a lot to explore, so it will take more than one post.

Here I start with the empirical basis: the stellar mass and baryonic Tully-Fisher relations. The Tully-Fisher relation was originally discovered as a relation between luminosity and linewidth in rotationally supported galaxies – spirals and irregulars. It immediately proved useful as an extragalactic distance indicator. As such, it was instrumental in breaking the impasse in the Hubble constant* debate (back when it was 50 vs. 100, not 67 vs. 73), and it remains useful in this role.

Physically, the obvious interpretation was that luminosity is a proxy for stellar mass and linewidth*^ is a proxy for rotation speed. This is correct. Of the various rotation speeds one can define and measure, the one that works best, in terms of minimizing the scatter in the relation, is the flat rotation speed measured in the outer parts of extended rotation curves. See Stark et al. (2009) and Trachternach et al. (2009) for further examples. The scatter is basically a function of data quality.

On the mass axis, converting measured flux to luminosity to mass is a bit dicier, as we need to know the distance for the first step and the stellar mass-to-light ratio for the second. There is inevitably some intrinsic scatter in the mass-to-light ratio of a stellar population. While I don’t doubt that luminosity is a proxy for stellar mass, improving on it is hard to do: there are many instances in which simply assuming a straight mapping of light to mass can be as effective as applying fancier population models. We might^ finally be getting past that, so it is worth discussing a bit.

The procedure to convert starlight into stellar mass involves the construction of stellar population models that use the color(s) or spectral energy distribution of a galaxy to infer the types of stars that make the light. This is a long-argued subject; suffice it to say there are a number of points where it can go wrong. The most obvious is the IMF; the initial spectrum of masses with which stars are born. Most of the light we see from galaxies is produced by its higher mass stars, which are disproportionately bright (there is a steep scaling of stellar luminosity with mass). But most of the mass is locked up in low mass stars that contribute little to the total luminosity. So we are, in effect, using the light of the few to represent the mass of the many. That would go badly wrong if we don’t know the relative mix, i.e., the shape of the IMF. This has been the subject of much research, and over many decades has been narrowed down pretty well. While I hope that this is almost settled, the specter of the IMF lurks as a menace to all stellar mass determinations.

There is a lot else we need to know to build a stellar population model. This includes such essentials as the spectra of individual stars of each and every type and stellar evolution as a function of mass and composition including exotic phases like the asymptotic giant branch. There are a lot of places where this can go badly wrong, and sometimes^% does. So I wouldn’t say we know how to do this perfectly, but we have become pretty good at it.

Converting light to mass suffices to plot the stellar mass Tully-Fisher relation. That accounts for most of the baryonic mass of high mass spirals, but it ignores the mass of the interstellar gas. This can be appreciable in lower mass systems. Indeed, the standard issue dwarf galaxy in the field is more gas than stars:

Figure 1 from McGaugh et al. (2019): The gas and stellar masses of rotating galaxies. Blue points are galaxies in the SPARC database (Lelli et al. 2016b) and the gas rich galaxies discussed by McGaugh (2012). The location of the Milky Way is noted in red (McGaugh 2016): it is a typical bright spiral. Grey points are the sample of Bradford et al. (2015). The line is the line of equality where M* = Mg.

With measurements of mass and rotation speed, we can construct the Tully-Fisher relation:

Figure 4 from McGaugh et al. (2019): The stellar mass (left) and baryonic Tully-Fisher relation (right). Data from Lelli et al. (2016b) and McGaugh (2012) are shown as blue points if both axes are measured with at least 20% accuracy; less accurate data are shown in grey. The latter include cases for which the rotation curve does not extend far enough to measure Vf, in which case the last measure point is used. These cases are systematically offset to lower velocity. Inclination uncertainties and distance errors also contribute to the scatter. The better the data, the tighter the relation. The location of the Milky Way is noted in red (you are here).

The stellar mass Tully-Fisher relation is a good correlation by the standards of extragalactic astronomy. The majority of studies in the literature are restricted to massive% galaxies, mostly those with M* > 1010 M☉ where stars dominate the baryonic mass budget so the omission of gas is not obvious. As we look to lower masses, the relation bends and the scatter increases. That this happens right where gas starts to become important to the mass budget suggests that we’re missing an important component, and voila – a nice, continuous relation that is linear in log space is restored when we plot the baryonic mass Mb = M*+Mg. Indeed, the data are consistent with a simple power law

Mb=AVf4M_b = A \, V_f^4

with A = 50 M☉ km-4 s4. The intercept A has consistently been measured within 10% of this value over the past couple of decades. That this is an integer power law so that the intercept has real physical units is intriguing. That doesn’t happen in most astronomical scaling laws, which are usually more happenstance, like the mass-luminosity relation for main sequence stars.

Why limit ourselves to rotationally supported galaxies? Let’s plots every known type of gravitationally bound extragalactic object, from the smallest ultrafaint dwarfs to the largest clusters of galaxies. Note that I’ve flipped the axes to accommodate the huge dynamic range in baryonic mass, roughly twelve (12) orders of magnitude. This is like having gnats at one end of the scale and blue whales at the other. On that scale, a person is a regular galaxy like the Milky Way.

Figure 3 from McGaugh et al. (2026): Extended Tully-Fisher relations plotting the flat-equivalent circular velocity of extragalactic systems as a function of stellar mass (top panel) and baryonic mass (bottom panel). Data for rotationally supported galaxies are depicted by circles; squares represent pressure supported systems. The blue circles are galaxies with directly measured distances, Vf from rotation curves, and stellar masses from WISE photometry from Duey et al. (2026, in preparation). Green circles are gas-rich galaxies (Mg > M*; Stark et al. 2009; Trachternach et al. 2009; Bernstein-Cooper et al. 2014; McNichols et al. 2016; Iorio et al. 2017; Namumba et al. 2025; Xu et al. 2025) not already in Duey et al. (2026). Yellow points are Local Group galaxies, both spirals and dwarfs (McGaugh et al. 2021); gray squares are ultrafaint dwarfs (Lelli et al. 2017). Lensing results for early- and late-type galaxies (Mistele et al. 2024a) are shown as pink squares and magenta circles, respectively. Red squares are clusters of galaxies (Mistele et al. 2025), and purple squares are groups of galaxies (McGaugh et al. 2026). The orange line is the BTFR fit only to rotating galaxies over a more limited range (about three orders of magnitude in baryonic mass, from Mb ~ 4 x 108 to 4 x 1011 M☉) by McGaugh (2005).

One improvement from twenty years ago, aside from the greater number of objects and the increase in dynamic range, is the accuracy of the mass measurements. I tried a number of prescriptions for the stellar mass-to-light ratio in McGaugh (2005), which resulted in a range of possible slopes. Now we just use the stellar mass from precise population models (Duey et al. 2025) and recover my best estimate from back then. The room to dodge the obvious conclusion about the slope of the relation by complaining about the choice of stellar mass estimator – a popular course of action back then – is gone. Another technical issue we’ve spent a lot of effort working on is how to put all these very different systems on the same scale of Vf. I won’t elaborate on this here: if you’re interested in that level of detail, you can go read the paper and references there in. If we got this wrong, it would add to the scatter in the relation, and/or create offsets between different types of data.

Both of the extended Tully-Fisher relations, that in stellar mass (top panel) and that in baryonic mass (bottom panel, the extended BTFR) are good correlations. That in baryonic mass is clearly better in the sense that it is tighter over a larger dynamic range. From small dwarf galaxies (Mb ~ 5 x 105) to groups of galaxies (5 x 1012 M☉), the data are consistent with a single power law (Mb ~ Vf4) for all systems with remarkably little scatter. Outside this range, the data for both the lowest and the highest mass systems deviate from a straight line towards higher mass at a given flat velocity. I don’t put much credence in the smallest systems as I think there is little chance that their measured velocity dispersions are representative of their equilibrium gravitational potential. For all practical purposes, our knowledge runs out as we hit the regime of ultrafaint# dwarfs. The deviations of the most massive systems, clusters of galaxies, are more difficult to dismiss.

Restricting our attention for the moment to the range where a single power law suffices to describe the data, we note that there is not much scatter in the BTFR. Some of it is from random uncertainties; these dominate most studies and lead to a lot more scatter than seen here: these data are very good. We can account for the known observational errors and subtract off their contribution to estimate the intrinsic scatter in the relation. This is the variance of the data from a perfect line. The intrinsic scatter for the best data (the WISE-SPARC sample of Duey et al. 2026) is about 0.11 dex in mass – about what we expect$ for stellar populations. That doesn’t leave much room for other sources of scatter, so the underlying physical relation has to be very tight indeed: essentially perfect over the range 5 x 105 < Mb < 5 x 1012 M☉.

Scatter will also occur if our mass budget is incomplete. We can see this in the transition from the stars-only relation to the BTFR. There is a lot of scatter in the stellar mass Tully-Fisher relation around 107 < Mb < 109 M☉. Galaxies in this mass range are sometimes star-dominated and sometimes gas-dominated. The gas fraction is all over the place. This shows up as scatter in the stellar mass Tully-Fisher relation. That’s not real; it is a sign that we’ve missed an important mass reservoir. This is cured when we add in the gas mass, which is dominated by atomic gas (HI to spectroscopists and astronomers). That this addition removes the scatter and restores a single power law relation strongly suggests that there are no further substantial reservoirs** of baryonic material that we’re missing.

This logic applies to other systems as well. Bright spirals do not need much correction because their baryonic mass is dominated by stars. Their stellar mass Tully-Fisher relation is pretty much already their BTFR.

Perhaps this applies to clusters of galaxies as well? There was a huge correction from stars-only to stars plus gas. The gas in this case is the hot, ionized plasma of the intracluster medium (ICM) that belongs to the cluster itself and not any individual galaxy within it. That goes most of the way to close the gap between the stars-only cluster data and the extrapolation of the BTFR fit to individual galaxies, but not all the way. So perhaps we are still missing an important baryonic mass component? It happened before – we didn’t know about the ICM for decades after Zwicky first identified the missing mass problem in clusters – so perhaps there are still more baryons to discover there.

It could also be that the apparent offset occurs because we’ve failed to put clusters on the same Vf scale as galaxies. This is not easy to do, and we’ve spent a lot of time worrying about it. I don’t think this is what’s going on, though it would make my life a lot simpler if it were. Different indicators – dynamics vs. ICM hydrostatics vs. gravitational lensing – can give somewhat different answers, but not in a way that “fixes” the problem: I see no viable path in which the offset turns out to be a simple difference in the way the depth of the gravitational potential is measured. I would love to be wrong here, but I’m not dismissing the offset for clusters as I am for ultrafaint dwarfs (which don’t do lightly).

Perhaps the extrapolation of the BTFR from individual galaxies to clusters is simply not appropriate. They’re very different kinds of systems, after all. To dig into that, we need some theoretical perspective – why does the observed power law happen? Should we expect different systems to share the same BTFR?

Theory is something I’ve studiously avoided in this post: the possibility that there are baryons that remain to be discovered in clusters can be inferred empirically. All the other data line up, so why not clusters? But unless and until these hypothetical additional baryons are discovered, that’s just one possibility. How likely this possibility seems to be diverges rapidly once we overlay a theoretical preference, which I will leave to future posts. (I did warn it would take more than one.)


&This paper appears in ApJ volume 1001. The literature has grown quite a bit since I started contributing to it in volume 342. The Astrophysical Journal was founded in 1895. So I’ve been contributing to it for a little over a quarter of its temporal existence, but nearly twice the number of volumes have been published in that shorter time. It’s no wonder none of us can keep up.

*Indeed, Tully & Fisher’s “preliminary estimate of the Hubble constant is H0 = 80 km/s/Mpc” remains correct to this day, within the uncertainties (hard to estimate at the time, but roughly ±10 km/s/Mpc).

*^There appears to be an irreducible intrinsic scatter in the linewidth: it is not a perfect proxy for rotation speed. Linewidths are observationally easier to obtain than resolved, extended rotation curves, so the numbers of galaxies in samples using linewidths can be very large without ever approaching the quality provided by resolved interferometric observations. Bigger samples are not necessarily better.

^I emphasize might here because the community seems to have moved towards reporting stellar masses as if we observe these rather than the luminosities and colors/SEDs that the mass estimates are based upon. The latter are data – observed quantities – while stellar masses are a derived quantity that is inevitably model dependent. This doesn’t stop being true just because we decide to invest a lot of faith in our models.

*^The Sloan Digital Sky Survey provides stellar masses based on models that are known to be wrong in the near infrared. Since SDSS itself is entirely optical, one might not notice. If one mixes SDSS data with near-IR data, one will get the wrong answer.

%This is a classic selection effect. Brighter objects can be seen at a much greater distance than dim ones, so probe a much larger volume. Consequently, their raw numbers always dominate surveys even if their number density is low. Stars are a great example: most of the stars you can see at night are intrinsically luminous: bright stars that are rather far away. Mundane, low mass stars do not stand out even when nearby.

#This isn’t for lack of observations of ultrafaint dwarfs, it’s the underlying assumptions.

$No amount of information suffices to perfectly specify the stellar mass that produces an observed luminosity and SED (spectral energy distribution/set of colors), so one always expects at least some intrinsic scatter in the stellar mass-to-light ratio. I’ve seen estimates that range from 0.1 – 0.2 dex for near-IR colors. That’s as good as it can get as there is always some transient population (e.g., AGB stars) that produce an amount of light that depends on the star formation rate some time ago, not what we measure now. Optical colors are worse in the sense of having more intrinsic scatter, as they are more susceptible to the comings and goings of bright but short-lived stars whose numbers fluctuate with the stochastic star formation rate. Finding 0.11 dex intrinstic scatter is pretty much as good as it can get. (By dex we mean the scatter in log space.)

**We noted this effect in the original BTFR paper to argue that it was unlikely that we were missing substantial amounts of molecular gas (H2), which was a concern at the time. Flash forward, and we were right: the molecular gas mass is almost always a distant third behind stars and atomic gas in the baryonic mass budgets of individual galaxies. Nowadays, the concern is about the mass of baryons in the circumgalactic medium (CGM). That’s getting ahead of the story, which I’ll save for a future post. For now, it suffices to note that any baryonic mass in the CGM is far beyond the radius where the flat velocity is measured, so is not relevant to the sums here.

Yep, it’s a religion

Yep, it’s a religion

I have been concerned for years that dark matter was morphing from legitimate science into a cold, dark religion. I have been reluctant to put it that way, because there are lots of scientists who work on dark matter that have not fallen entirely down that rabbit hole and who continue to make valuable contributions working in that context. But a recent experience reminded me that my concerns were not misplaced, and there are plenty of scientists who have fallen irredeemably down this rabbit hole. No matter what answer the future holds to be correct, many current scientists will have gone to their graves in denial of it.

Where is the boundary between science and religion? It is hard to assess where the borderline is. But it is easy to see when people are far over the line – so far over that it doesn’t really matter where exactly the line is. One can attend any conference on the subject to find people who unabashedly assert that dark matter exists without question. Not just that acceleration discrepancies have been amply demonstrated empirically, but that the only possible interpretation is dark matter. If asked whether this invisible mass is in the room with us now, they will enthusiastically# answer yes! Since dark matter has not been detected in the laboratory, this assertion is an expression of faith – the hallmark of religion – not of an established scientific fact. What we have established is that there are discrepancies between what we see and what we get when we assume Newtonian gravity (or GR, if needed). What we don’t know is whether the cause of these discrepancies is some form of invisible mass (dark matter) or if the equations we employ are inadequate (modified gravity [or more generally, dynamics]).

Indeed, these days many people will assert that dark matter has already been detected, usually citing astronomical evidence that used to be considered too feeble to merit a Nobel prize. Funny how repeating a mantra long enough morphs an aspiration into accepted reality. Modern physics is not providing a strong falsification of the supposition that science is a social construct.

A prominent example of an observation of the sky that is frequently cited as absolutely requiring cold dark matter is the acoustic power spectrum of the cosmic microwave background. Quoting clayton from a few years ago:

the primary reason to believe in the phenomenon of cold dark matter is the very high precision with which we measure the CMB power spectrum, especially modes beyond the second acoustic peak. There is a stone-cold, qualitative, crystal clear prediction of CDM about the relative sizes of the second and third peaks that modified gravity profoundly and irredeemably gets wrong: it thinks the third peak should be relatively larger* than the second… whereas CDM thinks they should be about the same

I would accept that this were conclusive proof of dark matter if this were the unique prediction of dark matter: that there was no other way to do it, so all other approaches were indeed irredeemable. (Quite the strong language, eh?) The problem is that CDM is not the one unique was to fit these data. Skordis & Zlosnik showed that it is possible to write a modified gravity theory that also fits the CMB data:

CMB power spectrum observed by Planck fit by AeST (Skordis & Zlosnik 2021).

This does not prove the AeST theory of Skordis & Zlosnik is correct, but it does demonstrate that it is possible to write a modified gravity theory that does indeed do what it is frequently asserted to be impossible for a modified gravity theory to do. I’ve heard of a couple of other theories that can also do this (the relativistic Khronon theory of Blanchet and nonlocal MOND as discussed by Deffayet & Woodard), so clearly this success is not uniquely limited to cold dark matter, or even a particular modified gravity theory. The work of Skordis & Zlosnik (2021) was known and in the literature before clayton made the assertion above in late 2022, so either he wasn’t paying attention (likely) or is convinced that it is impossible so doesn’t even consider the possibility (also likely). The former just says we’re all too busy, but the latter is a mark of religious thinking: my god is the only god, thou shalt have no other hypotheses before& me.

Many people are very impressed with the quality of the LCDM fit to the CMB. That is indeed very good, but there are enough free parameters that we were going to get a fit to any physically plausible power spectrum. If not, we’ve never been shy about making up new parameters. (Evolving dark energy, anyone? How about a running power spectrum? There’s a whole bag of possibilities!) What I’ve been more impressed with is the consistency of the fit to the CMB data with the many independent constraints on conventional cosmology. Or at least it was, until it wasn’t.

The Hubble tension has gotten steadily worse (in terms of statistical significance), and it really does not look like local measurements are to blame, nor is it the only tension. People seem to miss that it is the CMB-fitted value of the Hubble constant that has evolved over time to spoil the concordance that got us to believe in LCDM in the first place. But if the CMB is the cornerstone of your religion, all other data must inevitably be at fault and can be ignored: there is an entire community of cosmologists who choose to believe the best-fit Planck cosmology to the exclusion of all other data. It’s like the bad old days of the Hubble tension all over again, with the physics community choosing to believe the lower value of H0 because it makes more sense for the aspects of cosmology that they care about while those in the astronomical community who actually measure H0 find a persistently higher value.

A real tension in LCDM implies the need for new physics of the unknown variety. One doesn’t want to go there if it can be helped. I didn’t consider MOND until I was already concerned for the viability of dark matter. There are real problems for the paradigm that its more intense advocates simply deny, brush aside without real thought, or choose to remain ignorant of. When they are confronted with a problem, they are pretty creative about making stuff up on the spot. Anything to avoid having to confront the unspeakable – another hallmark of religion.

For example, cold dark matter is scale free. That’s foundational to the hypothesis. So the existence of an acceleration scale in the kinematic data is anathema to CDM. When I first pointed this contradiction out, there were a variety of assertions to the effect of “does too!” One example is provided by Kaplinghat & Turner, who claim to show “how Milgrom’s law comes about in the cold dark matter theory of structure formation.” That would, indeed, be ideal, and is a requirement for any theory to be successful.

Wee problem: they demonstrat no such thing. CDM is scale free, yet K&T claim that it explains Milgrom’s Law, which is predicated on the existence of an acceleration scale. Well, which is it? Is CDM scale free? Or does it explains the acceleration scale? We can’t have it both ways: their very premise is self-contradictory. It is absurd on its face.

The acceleration scale is defined by baryons, for which K&T have no model. To connect baryons with dark matter, they make a hand-waving argument about galaxies reaching a0 at the edge of their disks. This is not even a concept of a model and does not begin to suffice as an explanation for many reasons, a prominent one being that low surface brightness galaxies have accelerations less than a0 everywhere:

Centripetal acceleration curves color coded by galaxy surface brightness. Low surface brightness galaxies (blue colors) have low (sub-a0) accelerations everywhere: there is no edge at which they reach a0. (Adapted from McGaugh 2020.)

Milgrom pointed out this and many other shortcomings of their scenario, so I feel no need to elaborate further. Milgrom eviscerated their paper so thoroughly that the proper course of action would have been to retract it. Instead, they simply never acknowledge the criticism, and persist to this day in pushing it as some sort of valid scientific explanation. It is not; it does not withstand even mild critical scrutiny. But it doesn’t need to: it reassures the faithful that all is well. They hear what they want to hear without questioning its veracity. That’s another hallmark of religion.

I have refrained from saying these things in the past because I’m too nice. For example, a few years ago I started then abandoned the draft text below, which I simply cut & paste:


One of the things that attracted me to a career in science is the notion of objectivity. I grew up for a time in the bible belt, where people earnestly believed things that were obviously untrue, even to the eyes of a small child. On the occasions that I had the temerity to point out the obvious, the contradictions posed by facts never had an impact on their belief system. Rather, it inevitably earned me a warning that I was going to hell. No few of these people seemed to think it was their religious duty to send me there prematurely, or at least to make life on Earth a living hell.

Scientists eschew such behavior, but are also human, so often engage in it anyway. I’ve encountered it a lot. I get it; I went through the same denial, grief, and anger over the prospect of losing my good friend cold dark matter. The stages of grief never brought something back from the dead, but it has engendered a lot of blame-the-messenger.

Here’s an example, from a review by Mike Turner:

Excerpted from Turner (2021).

There is a lot of misinformation packed into this short paragraph.

The first clue is right there at the beginning, in red: the heading “False starts.” This is false framing, a classic tool of propagandists. It starts from the outset by asserting that the topic to be discussed is wrong at a level of knowledge so common it requires no justification. This is not the way one starts an objective discussion, much less a scientific one.

Turner then misconstrues what Milgrom did. He didn’t notice the scale a0 in the data, for which there was scant evidence at the time. Rather, Milgrom made the obvious statement that the inference of dark matter relied on the assumption that dynamics, as encapsulated by the laws of inertia and gravity, is the same on the very different scales of galaxies as in the solar system where they were established, so we ought to consider if dynamics might change in some way. He quickly excluded a size dependence as a possibility. How he settled on acceleration is beyond the scope of this post, and not for me to say. Neither is it for Turner to say.

After a brief and incomplete description of what MOND is, Turner allows that “this one-parameter model fits all the rotation-curve data”. Even in making this admission, he chooses to call it a model rather than a theory. A model is something specific you build in the context of a theory, like a halo model in CDM. MOND is more than that.

Turner quickly moves on without contemplating any meaning that rotation curves might hold. Let’s pause to consider that.

First, I would not say that MOND fits all the rotation curve data. It fits most galaxies, but there are a minority of weird cases that are not well fit. The weird cases inevitably don’t make sense in terms of dark matter either, so on the whole I interpret this to be the usual price of dealing with astronomical data – some of it is just goofy. Setting such cases aside, I can and have fit the same data with all sorts of dark matter halo models. MOND requires fewer parameters, which is important, but the difference isn’t in the fitting. The difference is in predictive ability. I can use MOND to predict the dynamics of galaxies a priori, and have done so many times. I cannot use any flavor of dark matter theory to do the same, and it’s not for lack of trying.

The predictive power of MOND must be telling us something, even if it is something about the nature of dark matter or the process of galaxy formation. There are many papers written on this, some deep and profound, others absurd and banal. Turner cites none of them, nor displays any awareness that such work exists. I would venture to guess that is because acknowledging such work would imply that there is something to debate here, something he would apparently rather not admit.


That’s where I left off. It’s exhausting deciphering other people’s false assertions. Moreover, I just don’t like criticizing other people, no matter how richly they deserve it. (Turner has never refrained from criticizing me in ad hominem terms: on one occasion$ he showed my picture to an audience and called me “the enemy.”) A large segment of the particle physics and cosmology community appears to think this way, and has succumbed to a scientific version of bible thumping in which you can assert any absurd thing so long as it falls within the framework of the holy LCDM. They really need to find something better to do.

I had hoped we were past this, but I heard a talk last week that was exactly in this mode. To paraphrase, the talk went

We’re sure dark matter exists. We have been sure about it for decades. In that time, we have been repeatedly proven wrong about what it is. Rather than re-think our paradigm in the face of these repeated failures, we double down yet again on the existence of this invisible, undetected mass, asserting aggressively% that it must be true while eliding or misrepresenting the evidence that it is not. This enables us to make up a whole lot of exciting new possibilities for what the dark matter might be and conceive of ever more grandiose experiments to continue not to detect it. You must believe in dark matter!

This was not a science talk so much as an indoctrination session. It was as if I had stumbled into a revivalist tent where some hothead was preaching to the choir. This is the kind of talk that misled an entire generation into wasting their careers at the bottom of a mine shaft searching for WIMPs. At least WIMPs were a well-motivated hypothesis; this kind of talk could lead a new generation down an even greater variety of garden paths.

I am well aware that I might fall prey to this attitude myself. That’s why I set criteria by which I would change my mind: detect dark matter already, or at least provide a satisfactory explanation as to how MOND comes about. Neither of those criteria have been met. There are claims to do the latter, but so far these are just variations on models I tried and found to fail long ago. If I thought these could work, I would have said so. At the same time, I don’t see any dark matter advocates taking up the challenge to specify what would change their minds. When I ask them what could falsify dark matter, I get dumbfounded looks – the deer-in-the-headlight face one gets when the immediate response why would you even ask that? is checked by a distant memory that scientific theories are supposed to be falsifiable.

Personally, I found it humbling to encounter MOND in my own data. I too thought we understood the universe with dark matter. But who ordered this? Certainly not me: my own conventional, dark-matter based predictions were falsified. No one else working in the context of dark matter had got it right at the time either. Only Milgrom ordered this.

And what is this? There is a direct connection between what we see and what we get. Even in ignorance of MOND, the radial acceleration relation encodes a one-to-one relation between the distribution of baryons and the effective force. This is so direct that one can right down a single equation connecting the two:

gobs=F(gN/a0)gN.g_{obs} = F(g_N/a_0)\,g_N.

The observed acceleration is a simple function of that predicted by Newton for the stars and gas that we see. There is no mention of unseen mass; everything is specified by what we can see is there.

I’ve sometimes heard astronomers complain about the reductionist ethos of physics, trying to cram all the complexity of the entire universe into a theory of everything. But here it is appropriate: there is a single, apparently universal force-law at work in galaxies. That’s telling us something profound. And yet if questioned about this, the physicists are the ones who will complain that galaxies are complicated, so they should be exempted from having to explain them. Galaxies should be complicated – in LCDM. But they’re observed not to be, in the sense that a single equation suffices to describe their kinematics. The problem isn’t that galaxies are inexplicably complicated, it’s that they should be but aren’t.

I am deeply disappointed that many scientists apparently lack the physical intuition to immediately recognize the import of the simple relation between what we see and what we get. It is the same sort of thing Newton noticed in the solar system: everything happens as if the gravitational force is proportional to the product of the masses and the inverse square of their separation. He didn’t understand why at the time, and was criticized for indulging in magical thinking: how can there be action at a distance? But that’s what the data were saying, and the same applies now. We might not yet understand the why, but that the data look as if MOND is what’s happening in this universe.


#The framing has morphed over the years. A recent advent is that some people have started proactively asserting that invisible mass is in the room with us now in order to avoid having to answer it as a question that makes them sound like loonies.

*He means the third peak should be smaller than the second, not larger, if by “it” he means modified gravity with the baryon density expected from big bang nucleosynthesis, which was the hypothesis that correctly predicted the first-to-second peak ratio but does indeed get the second-to-third peak ratio wrong. Funny how the CMB community was able to completely ignore the successful prediction for several years, but were then suddenly all over the latter failure. The third peak falsifies the ansatz on which that particular prediction was built, not the entire concept of modified gravity. This would be like asserting that all possible forms of dark matter are excluded because we haven’t yet detected WIMPs. It is a classic failure of objectivity, which is another hallmark of faith-based argumentation: we know His name is [insert favorite deity], not [insert any other deity].

&Or after me. Dark matter was my first hypothesis, and I’m here to tell you that True Believers do not suffer second hypotheses or those who stray from the fold. I guess that’s why so many scientists who are MOND-curious keep it on the down low. Wise, perhaps (that’s why tenure needs to be a thing), but hardly the ideal of the open and free exchange of scientific ideas.

$I wasn’t there, but one audience member (not someone I knew) thought it was so over the top that he told me about it, sharing a link with a video. (I did not retain that link, and doubt the hosting conference website is still active.)

%Argument weak here. RAISE VOICE!

Very thin galaxies

Very thin galaxies

The stability of spiral galaxies was a foundational motivation to invoke dark matter: a thin disk of self-gravitating stars is unstable unless embedded in a dark matter halo. Modified dynamics can also stabilize galactic disks. A related test is provided by how thin such galaxies can be.

Thin galaxies exist

Spiral galaxies seen edge-on are thin. They have a typical thickness – their short-to-long axis ratio – of q ≈ 0.2. Sometimes they’re thicker, sometimes they’re thinner, but this is often what we assume when building mass models of the stellar disk of galaxies that are not seen exactly* edge-on. One can employ more elaborate estimators, but the results are not particularly sensitive to the exact thickness so long as it isn’t the limit of either razor thin (q = 0) or a spherical cow (q = 1).

Sometimes galaxies are very thin. Behold the “superthin” galaxy UGC 7321:

UGC 7321 as seen in optical colors by the Sloan Digital Sky Survey.

It also looks very thin in the infrared, which is the better tracer of stellar mass:

Fig. 1 from Matthews et al (1999): H-band (1.6 micron) image of UGC 7321. Matthews (2000) finds a near-IR axis ratio of 14:1. That’s super thin (q = 0.07)!

UGC 7321 is very thin, would be low surface brightness if seen face-on (Matthews estimates a central B-band surface brightness of 23.4 mag arcsec-2), has no bulge component thickening the central region, and contains roughly as much mass in gas as stars. All of these properties dispose a disk to be fragile (to perturbations like mergers and subhalo crossings) and unstable, yet there it is. There are enough similar examples to build a flat galaxy catalog, so somehow the universe has figured out a way for galaxy disks to remain thin and dynamically cold# for the better part of a Hubble time.

We see spiral galaxies at various inclinations to our line of sight. Some will appear face on, others edge-on, and everything in between. If we observe enough of them, we can work out what the intrinsic distribution is based on the projected version we see.

First, some definitions. A 3D object has three principle axes of lengths a, b, and c. By convention, a is the longest and c the shortest. An oblate model imagines a galaxy like a frisbee: it is perfectly round seen face-on (a = b); seen edge-on q = c/a. More generally, an object can be triaxial, with a ≠ b ≠ c. In this case, a galaxy would not appear perfectly round even when seen perfectly face-on^ because it is intrinsically oval (with similar axis lengths a ≈ b but not exactly equal). I expect this is fairly common among dwarf Irregular galaxies.

The observed and intrinsic distribution of disk thicknesses

Benevides et al. (2025) find that the distribution of observed axis ratios q is pretty flat. This is a consequence of most galaxies being seen at some intermediate viewing angle. One can posit an intrinsic distribution, model what one would see at a bunch of random viewing angles, and iterate to extract the true distribution in nature, which they do:

Figure 6 from Benevides et al. (2025): Comparison between the observed (projected) q distribution and the inferred intrinsic 3D axis ratios for a subsample of dwarfs in the GAMA survey with M⋆=109–109.5​M⊙. The observed shapes are shown with the solid black line and are used to derive an intrinsic c/a (long-dashed) and b/a (dotted) distribution when projected. Solid color lines in each panel corresponds to the q values obtained from the 3D model after random projections. Note that a wide distribution of q values is generated by a much narrower intrinsic c/a distribution. For example, the blue shaded region in the left panel shows that an observed 5% of galaxies with q<0.2 requires 41% of galaxies to have an intrinsic c/a<0.2 for an oblate model. Similarly, for a triaxal model (right panel, red curve) 43% of galaxies are required to be thinner than c/a=0.2. The additional freedom of b≠a in the triaxial model helps to obtain a better fit to the projected q distribution, but the changes mostly affect large q values and changes little the c/a frequency derived from highly elongated objects.

That we see some thin galaxies implies that they they have to be common, as most of them are not seen edge-on. For dwarf$ galaxies of a specific mass range, which happens to include UGC 7321, Benevides et al. (2025) infer a lot% of thin galaxies, at least 40% with q < 0.2. They also infer a little bit of triaxiality, a ≈ b.

The existence and numbers of thin dwarfs seems to come as a surprise to many astronomers. This is perhaps driven in part by theoretical expectations for dwarf galaxies to be thick: a low surface brightness disk has little self-gravity to hold stars in a narrow plane. This expectation is so strong that Benevides et al. (2025) feel compelled to provide some observed examples, as if to say look, really:

Figure 8 – images of real galaxies from Benevides et al. (2025): Examples of 10 highly elongated dwarf galaxies with q≤0.2 and M⋆=107 – 108.5​M⊙. They resemble thin edge-on disks and can be found even among the faintest dwarfs in our sample. Legends in each panel quote the stellar mass, the shape parameter q, as well as the GAMA identifier. Objects are sorted by increasing M⋆, left to right.

As an empiricist who has spent a career looking at low mass and low surface brightness galaxies, this does not come as a surprise to me. These galaxies look normal. That’s what the universe of late type dwarf$ galaxies looks like.

Edge-on galaxies in LCDM simulations

Thin galaxies do not occur naturally in the hierarchical mergers of LCDM (e.g., Haslbauer et al. 2022), where one would expect a steady bombardment by merging masses to mess things up. The picture above is not what galaxy-like objects in LCDM simulations look like. Scraping through a few simulations to find the flattest galaxies, Benevides et al. (2025) find only a handful of examples:

Figure 11 – images of simulated galaxies from Benevides et al. (2025): Edge-on projection of examples of the flattest galaxies in the TNG50 simulation, in different bins of stellar mass.

Note that only the four images on the left here occupy the same stellar mass range as the images of reality above. These are as close as it gets. Not terrible, but also not representative&. The fraction of galaxies this thin is a tiny fraction of the simulated population whereas they are quite common in reality. Here the two are compared: three different surveys (solid lines) vs. three different simulations (dashed lines).

Figure 9 from Benevides et al. (2025): Fraction of galaxies that are derived to be intrinsically thinner than c/a≤0.2 as a function of stellar mass. Thick solid lines correspond to our observational samples while dashed lines are used to display the results of cosmological simulations. Different colors highlight the specific survey or simulation name, as quoted in the legend. In all observational surveys, the frequency of thin galaxies peaks for dwarfs with M⋆∼109​M⊙, almost doubling the frequency observed on the scale of MW-mass galaxies. Thin galaxies do not disappear at lower masses: we infer a significant fraction of dwarf galaxies with M⋆<109​M⊙ to have c/a<0.2. This is in stark contrast with the negligible production of thin dwarf galaxies in all numerical simulations analyzed here.

Note that the thinnest galaxies in nature are dwarfs of mass comparable to UGC 7321. Thin disks aren’t just for bright spirals like the Milky Way with log(M*) > 10.5. They are also common*$ for dwarfs with log(M*) = 9 and even log(M*) = 8, which are often gas dominated. In contrast, the simulations produce almost no galaxies that are thin at these lower masses.

The simulations simply do not look like reality. Again. And again, etc., etc., ad nauseam. It’s almost as if the old adage applies: garbage in, garbage out. Maybe it’s not the resolution or the implementation of the simulations that’s the problem. One could get all that right, but it wouldn’t matter if the starting assumption of a universe dominated by cold dark matter was the input garbage.

Galaxy thickness in Newton and MOND

Thick disks are not merely a product of simulations, they are endemic to Newtonian dynamics. As stars orbit around and around a galaxy’s center, they also oscillate up and down, bobbing in and out of the plane. How far up they get depends on how fast they’re going (the dynamical temperature of the stellar population) and how strong the restoring force to the plane of the disk is.

In the traditional picture of a thin spiral galaxy embedded in a quasi-spherical dark matter halo, the restoring force is provided by the stars in the disk. The dark matter halo is there to boost the radial force to make the rotation curve flat, and to stabilize the disk, for which it needs to be approximately spherical. The dark matter halo does not contribute much to the vertical restoring force because it adds little mass near the disk plane. In order to do that, the halo would have to be very squashed (small q) like the disk, in which case we revive the stability problem the halo was put there to solve.

This is why we expect low surface brightness disks to be thick. Their stars are spread thin, the surface mass density is low, so the restoring force to the disk should be small. Disks as thin as UGC 7321 shouldn’t be possible unless they are extremely cold*# dynamically – a situation that is unlikely to persist in a cosmogony built by hierarchical merging. The simulations discussed above corroborate this expectation.

In MOND, there is no dark matter halo, but the modified force should boost the vertical restoring force as well as the radial force. One thus expects thinner disks in MOND than in Newton.

I pointed this out in McGaugh & de Blok (1998) along with pretty much everything else in the universe that people tell me I should consider without bothering to check if I’ve already considered. Here is the plot I published at the time:

Figure 9 of McGaugh & de Blok (1998): Thickness q = z0/h expected for disks of various central surface densities σ0. Shown along the top axis is the equivalent B-band central surface brightness μ0 for ϒ* = 2. Parameters chosen for illustration are noted in the figure (a typical scale length h and two choices of central vertical velocity dispersion ςz). Other plausible values give similar results. The solid lines are the Newtonian expectation and the dashed lines that of MOND. The Newtonian and MOND cases are similar at high surface densities but differ enormously at low surface densities. Newtonian disks become very thick at low surface brightness. In contrast, MOND disks can remain reasonably thin to low surface density.

There are many approximations that have to be made in constructing the figure above. I assumed disks were plane-parallel slabs of constant velocity dispersion, which they are not. But this suffices to illustrate the basic point, that disks should remain thinner&% in MOND than in Newton as surface density decreases: as one sinks further into the MOND regime, there is relatively more restoring force keep disks thin. To duplicate this effect in Newton, one must invent two kinds of dark matter: a dissipational kind of dark matter that forms a dark matter disk in addition to the usual dissipationless cold dark matter that makes a quasi-spherical dark matter halo.

The idea of the plot above was to illustrate the trend of expected thickness for galaxies of different central surface brightness. One can also build a model to illustrate the expected thickness as a function of radius for a pair of galaxies, one high surface brightness (so it starts in the Newtonian regime at small radii) and one of low surface brightness (in the MOND regime everywhere). I have chosen numbers** resembling the Milky Way for the high surface brightness galaxy model, and scaled the velocity dispersion of the low surface brightness model so it has very nearly the same thickness in the Newtonian regime. In MOND, both disks remain thin as a function of radius (they flare a lot in Newton) and the lower surface brightness disk model is thinner thanks to the relatively stronger restoring force that follows from being deeper in the MOND regime.

The thickness of two model disks, one high surface brightness (solid lines) and the other low surface brightness (dashed lines), as a function of radius. The two are similar in Newton (black), but differ in MOND (blue). The restoring force to the disk is stronger in MOND, so there is less flaring with increasing radius. The low surface brightness galaxy is further in the MOND regime, leading naturally to a thinner disk.

These are not realistic disk models, but they again suffice to illustrate the point: thin disks occur naturally in MOND. Low surface brightness disks should be thick in LCDM (and in Newtonian dynamics in general), but can be as thin as UGC 7321 in MOND. I didn’t aim to make q ≈ 0.1 in the model low surface brightness disk; it just came out that way for numbers chosen to be reasonable representations of the genre.

What the distribution of thicknesses is depends on the accretion and heating history of each individual disk. I don’t claim to understand that. But the mere existence of dwarf galaxies with thin disks is a natural outcome in MOND that we once again struggle to comprehend in terms of dark matter.


*Seeing a galaxy highly inclined minimizes the inclination correction to the kinematic observations [Vrot = Vobs/sin(i)] but to build a mass model we also need to know the face-on surface density profile of the stars, the correction for which depends on 1/cos(i). So as a practical matter, the competition between sin(i) and cos(i) makes it difficult to analyze galaxies at either extreme.

#Dynamically cold means the random motions (quantified by the velocity dispersion of stars σ) are small compared to ordered rotation (V) in the disk, something like V/σ ≈ 10. As a disk heats (higher σ) it thickens, as some of that random motion goes in the vertical direction perpendicular to the disk. Mergers heat disks because they bring kinetic energy in from random directions. Even after an object is absorbed, the splash it made is preserved in the vertical distribution of the stars which, once displaced, never settle back into a thin disk. (Gas can settle through dissipation, but point masses like stars cannot.)

^Oval distortions are a major source of systematic error in galaxy inclination estimates, especially for dwarf Irregulars. It is an asymmetric error: a galaxy with a mild oval distortion can be inferred to have an inclination (i > 0) even when seen face-on (i = 0), but it can never have an inclination more face-on (i < 0) than exactly face-on. This is one of the common drivers of claims that low mass galaxies fall off the Tully-Fisher relation. (Other common problems include a failure to account for gas mass, bad distance estimates, or not measuring Vflat.)

$In a field with abominable terminology, what is meant by a “dwarf” galaxy is one of the worst offenders. One of my first conference contributions thirty years ago griped about the [mis]use of this term, and matters have not improved. For this particular figure, Benevides et al. (2025) define it to mean galaxies with stellar masses in the range 9 < log(M*) < 9.5, which seems big to me, but at least it is below the mass of a typical L* spiral, which has log(M*) ~ 10.5. For comparison, see Fig. 6 of the review of Bullock & Boylan-Kolchin (2017), who define “bright dwarfs” to have 7 < log(M*) < 9, and go lower from there, but not higher into the regime that we’re calling dwarf right now. So what a dwarf galaxy is depends on context.

%Note that the intrinsic distribution peaks below q = 0.2, so arguably one should perhaps adopt as typical the mode of the distribution (q ≈ 0.17).

&Another way in which even the thin simulated objects are not representative of reality is that they are dynamically hot, as indicated by the κrot parameter printed with the image. This is the fraction of kinetic energy in rotation. One of the more favorable cases with κrot = 0.67 corresponds to V/σ = 2.5. That happens in reality, but higher values are common. Of course, thin disks and dynamical coldness go hand in hand. Since the simulations involve a lot of mergers, the fraction of kinetic energy in rotation is naturally small. So I’m not saying the simulations are wrong in what they predict given the input physics that they assume, but I am saying that this prediction does not match reality.

*$The fraction of thin galaxies observed by DESI is slightly higher than found in the other surveys. Having looked at all these data, I am inclined to suspect the culprit is image quality: that of DESI is better. Regardless of the culprit for this small discrepancy between surveys, thin disks are much more common in reality than in the current generation of simulations.

*#There seems to be a limit to how cold disks get, with a minimum velocity dispersion around ~7 km/s observed in face-on dwarfs when the appropriate number, according to Newton, would be more like 2 km/s, tops. I remember this number from observations in the ’80s and ’90s, along with lots of discussion then to the effect of how can it be so? but it is the new year and I’m feeling too lazy to hunt down all the citations so you get a meme instead.


&%In an absolute sense, all other things being equal, which they’re not, disks do become thicker to lower surface brightness in both Newton and MOND. There is less restoring force for less surface mass density. It is the relative decline in restoring force and consequent thickening of the disk that is much more precipitous in Newton.

**For the numerically curious, these models are exponential disks with surface density profiles Σ(R) = Σ0 e-R/Rd. Both models have a scale length Rd = 3 kpc. The HSB has Σ0 = 866 M☉ pc-2; this is a good match to the Eilers et al. (2019) Milky Way disk; see McGaugh (2019). The LSB has Σ0 = 100 M☉ pc-2, which corresponds roughly to what I consider the boundary of low surface brightness, a central B-band surface brightness of ~23 mag. arcsec-2. For the velocity dispersion profile I also assume an exponential with scale length 2Rd (that’s what supposed to happen). The central velocity dispersion of the HSB is 100 km/s (an educated guess that gets us in the right ballpark) and that of the LSB is 33 km/s – the mass is down by a factor of ~9 so the velocity dispersion should be lower by a factor of 9\sqrt{9}. (I let it be inexact so the solid and dashed Newtonian lines wouldn’t exactly overlap.)

These models are crude, being single-population (there can be multiple stellar populations each with their own velocity dispersion and vertical scale height) and lacking both a bulge and gas. The velocity dispersion profile sometimes falls with a scale length twice the disk scale length as expected, sometimes not. In the Milky Way, Rd ≈ 2.5 or 3 kpc, but the velocity dispersion falls off with a scale length that is not 5 or 6 kpc but rather 21 or 25 kpc. I have also seen the velocity dispersion profile flatten out rather than continue to fall with radius. That might itself be a hint of MOND, but there are lots of different aspects of the problem to consider.

Has dark matter been detected in the Milky Way?

Has dark matter been detected in the Milky Way?

If a title is posed as a question, the answer is usually

No.

There has been a little bit of noise that dark matter might have been detected near the center of the Milky Way. The chatter seems to have died down quickly, for, as usual, this claim is greatly exaggerated. Indeed, the claim isn’t even made in the actual paper so much as in the scuttlebutt# related to it. The scientific claim that is made is that

The halo excess spectrum can be fitted by annihilation with a particle mass mχ∼ 0.5–0.8 TeV and cross section ⟨σ​υ⟩∼ (5–8)×10−25​cm3​s−1 for the b​b¯ channel.

Totani (2025)

What the heck does that mean?

First, the “excess spectrum” refers to a portion of the gamma ray emission detected by the Fermi telescope that exceeds that from known astrophysical sources. This signal might be from a WIMP with a mass in the range of 500 – 800 GeV. That’s a bit heavier than originally anticipated (~100 GeV), but not ridiculous. The cross-section is the probability for an interaction with bottom quarks and anti-quarks. (The Higgs boson can decay into b quarks.)

Astrophysical sources at the Galactic center

There is a long-running issue with the interpretation of excess signals as dark matter. Most of the detected emission is from known astrophysical sources, hence the term “excess.” There being an excess implies that we understand all the sources. There are a lot of astrophysical sources at the Galactic center:

The center of the Milky Way as seen by the South African MeerKAT radio telescope with a close up from JWST. Image credit: NASA, ESA, CSA, STScI, SARAO, S. Crowe (UVA), J. Bally (CU), R. Fedriani (IAA-CSIC), I. Heywood (Oxford).

As you can see, the center of the Galaxy is a busy place. It is literally the busiest place in the Galaxy. Attributing any “excess” to non-baryonic dark matter is contingent on understanding all of the astrophysical sources so that they can be correctly subtracted off. Looking at the complexity of the image above, that’s a big if, which we’ll come back to later. But first, how does dark matter even come unto a discussion of emission from the Galactic center?

Indirect WIMP detection

Dark matter does not emit light – not directly, anyway. But WIMP dark matter is hypothesized to interact with Standard Model particles through the weak nuclear force, which is what provides a window to detect it in the laboratory. So how does that work? Here is the notional Feynman diagram:

Conceivable Interactions between WIMPs (X) and standard model particles (q). The diagram can be read left to right to represent WIMPs scattering off of atomic nuclei, top to bottom to represent WIMPs annihilating into standard model particles, or bottom to top to represent the production of dark matter particles in high energy collisions.

The devious brilliance of this Feynman diagram is that we don’t need to know how the interaction works. There are many possibilities, but that’s a detail – that central circle is where the magic happens; what exactly that magic is can remain TBD. All that matters is that it can happen (with some probability quantified by the interaction cross-section), so all the pathways illustrated above should be possible.

Direct detection experiments look for scattering of WIMPs off of nuclei in underground detectors. They have not seen anything. In principle, WIMPs could be created in sufficiently high-energy collisions of Standard Model particles. The LHC has more than adequate energy to produce dark matter particles in this way, but no such signal has been seen$. The potential signal we’re discussing here is an example of indirect detection. There are a number of possibilities for this, but the most obvious^ one follows from WIMPs being their own anti-particles, so they occasionally meet in space and annihilate into Standard Model particles.

The most obvious product of WIMP annihilations is a pair of gamma rays, hence the potential for the Fermi gamma ray telescope to detect their decay products. Here is a simulated image of the gamma ray sky resulting from dark matter annihilations:

Simulated image from the via Lactea II simultion (Fig. 1 of Kuhlen et al. 2008).

The dark regions are the brightest, where the dark matter density is highest. That includes the center of the Milky Way (white circle) and also sub-halos that might contain dwarf satellite galaxies.

Since we don’t really know how the magic interaction happens, but have plenty of theoretical variations, many other things are also possible, some of which might be cosmic rays:

Fig. 3 of Topchiev et al. (2017) illustrating possible decay channels for WIMP annihilations. Gamma rays are one inevitable product, but other particles might also be produced. These would be born with energies much higher than their rest masses (~100 GeV, while electrons and positrons have masses of 0.5 MeV) so would be moving near the speed of light. In effect, dark matter could be a source of cosmic rays.

The upshot of all this is that the detection of an “excess” of unexpected but normal particles might be a sign of dark matter.

Sociology: different perspectives from different communities

A lot hinges on the confidence with which we can disentangle expected from unexpected. Once we’ve accounted for the sources we already knew about, there are always new sources to be discovered. That’s astronomy. So initially, the communal attitude was that we shouldn’t claim a signal was due to dark matter until all astrophysical signals had been thoroughly excluded. That never happened: we just kept discovering new astrophysical sources. But at some point, the communal attitude transformed into one of eager credulity. It was no longer embarrassing to make a wrong claim; instead, marginal and dubious claims were made eagerly in the hopes of claiming a Nobel prize. If it didn’t work out, oh well, just try again. And again and again and again. There is apparently no shame in claiming to see the invisible when you’re completely convinced it is there to be seen.

This switch in sociology happened in the mid to late ’00s as people calling themselves astroparticle& physicists became numerous. These people were remarkably uninterested in astrophysics or astrophysical sources in their own right but very interested in dark matter. They were quick to claim that any and every quirk in data was a sign of dark matter. I can’t help but wonder if this behavior is inherited from the long drought in interesting particle collider results, which gradually evolved into a propensity for high energy particle phenomenologists to leap on every two-sigma blip as a sign of new physics, dumping hundreds of preprints on arXiv after each signal of marginal significance was announced. It is always a sprint to exercise the mental model-building muscles and make up some shit in the brief weeks before the signal inevitably goes away again.

Let’s review a few examples of previous indirect dark matter detection claims.

Cosmic rays from Kaluza-Klein dark matter – or not

This topic has a long and sordid history. In the late ’00s, there were numerous claims of an excess in cosmic rays – ATIC saw too many electrons for the astrophysical background, and and PAMELA saw an apparent rise in the positron fraction, perhaps indicating a source with a peak energy around 620 GeV. (If the signal is from dark matter, the rest mass of the WIMP is imprinted in the energy spectrum of its decay products.) The combination of excess electrons and extra positrons seemed fishy enough* to some to point to new physics: dark matter. There were of course more sober analyses, for example:

Fig. 3 from Aharonian et al. (2009): The energy spectrum E3 dN/dE of cosmic-ray electrons measured by H.E.S.S. and balloon experiments. Also shown are calculations for a Kaluza-Klein signature in the H.E.S.S. data with a mass of 620 GeV and a flux as determined from the ATIC data (dashed-dotted line), the background model fitted to low-energy ATIC and high-energy H.E.S.S. data (dashed line) and the sum of the two contributions (solid line). The shaded regions represent the approximate systematic error as in Fig. 2.

A few things to note about this plot: first, the data are noisy – science is hard. The ATIC and H.E.S.S. data are not really consistent – one shows an excess, the other does not. The excess is over a background model that is overly simplistic – the high energy astrophysicists I knew were shouting that the apparent signal could easily be caused by a nearby pulsar##. The advocates for a detection in the astroparticle community simply ignored this point, or if pressed, asserted that it seemed unlikely.

One problem that arose with the dark matter interpretation was that there wasn’t enough of it. Space is big and the dark matter density is low, so it is hard to get WIMPs together to annihilate. Indeed, the expected signal scales as the square of the WIMP density, so is very sensitive to just how much dark matter is lurking about. The average density in the solar neighborhood needed to explain astronomical data is around 0.3 to 0.4 GeV cm-3; this falls short of producing the observed signal (if real) by a factor of ~500.

An ordinary scientist might have taken this setback as a sign that he$$ was barking up the wrong tree. Not to be discouraged, the extraordinary astroparticle physicists started talking about the “boost factor.” If there is a region of enhanced dark matter density, then the gamma ray/cosmic ray signal would be boosted, potentially by a lot given the density-squared dependence. This is not quite as crazy as it sounds, as cold dark matter halos are predicted to be lumpy: there should be lots of sub-halos within each halo (and many sub-sub halos within those, right the way down). So, what are the odds that we happen to live near enough to a subhalo that could result in the required boost factor?

The odds are small but nonzero. I saw someone at a conference in 2009 make a completely theoretical attempt to derive those odds. He took a merger tree from some simulation and calculated the chance that we’d be near one of these lumps. Then he expanded that to include a spectrum of plausible merger trees for Milky Way-mass dark matter halos. The noisier merger histories gave higher probabilities, as halos with more recent mergers tend to be lumpier, having had a fresh injection of subhalos that haven’t had time to erode away through dynamical friction into the larger central halo.

This was all very sensible sounding, in theory – and only in theory. We don’t live in any random galaxy. We live in the Milky Way and we know quite a bit about it. One of those things is that it has had a rather quiet merger history by the standards of simulated merger trees. To be sure, there have been some mergers, like the Gaia-Enceladus Sausage. But these are few and far between compared to the expectations of the simulations our theorist was considering. Moreover, we’d know if it weren’t, because mergers tend to heat the stellar disk and puff up its thickness. The spiral disk of the Milky Way is pretty cold dynamically, which places limits on how much mass has merged and when. Indeed, there is a whole subfield dedicated to the study of the thick disk, which seems to have been puffed up in an ancient event ~8 Gyr ago. Since then it has been pretty quiet, though more subtle things can and do happen.

The speaker did not mention any of that. He had a completely theoretical depiction of the probabilities unsullied by observational evidence, and was succeeding in persuading those who wanted to believe that the small probability he came up with was nevertheless reasonable. It was a mixed audience: along with the astroparticle physicists were astronomers like myself, including one of the world’s experts on the thick disk, Rosy Wyse. However, she was too polite to call this out, so after watching the discussion devolve towards accepting the unlikely as probable, I raise my hand to comment: “We know the Milky Way’s merger history isn’t as busy as the models that give a high probability.” This was met with utter incredulity. How could astronomy teach us anything about dark matter? It’s not like the evidence is 100% astronomical in nature, or… wait, it is. But no, no waiting or self-reflection was involved. It rapidly became clear that the majority of people calling themselves astroparticle physicists were ignorant of some relevant astrophysics that any astronomy grad student would be expected to know. It just wasn’t in their training or knowledge base. Consequently, it was strange and shocking&& for them to learn about it this way. So the discussion trended towards denial, at which point Rosy spoke up to say yes, we know this. Duh. (I paraphrase.)

The interpretation of the excess cosmic ray signal as dark matter persisted a few years, but gradually cooler heads prevailed and the pulsar interpretation became widely accepted to be more plausible – as it always had been. Indeed, claiming cosmic rays were from dark matter became almost disreputable, as it richly deserved to be. So much so that when the AMS cosmic ray experiment joined the party late, it had essentially zero impact. I didn’t hear anyone advocating for it, even in whispers at workshops. It seemed more like its Nobel laureate PI just wanted a second Nobel prize, please and thank you, and even the astroparticle community felt embarrassed for him.

This didn’t preclude the same story from playing out repeatedly.

Gamma rays from WIMPs – or not

In the lead-up to a conference on dark matter hosted at Harvard in 2014, there were claims that the Fermi telescope – the same one that is again in the news – had seen a gamma ray line around 126 GeV that was attributed to dark matter. This claim had many red flags. The mass was close to the Higgs particle mass, which was kinda weird. The signal was primarily seen on the limb of the Earth, which is exactly where you’d expect garbage noise to creep in. Most telling, the Fermi team itself was not making this claim. It came from others who were analyzing their data. I am no fan of science by big teams – they tend to become bureaucratic behemoths that create red tape for their participants and often suppress internal dissent** – but one thing they do not do is leave Nobel prizes unanalyzed in their data. The Fermi team’s silence in this matter was deafening.

In short, this first claim of gamma rays from dark matter looked to be very much on the same trajectory as that from cosmic rays. So I was somewhat surprised when I saw the draft program for the Harvard conference, as it had an entire afternoon session devoted to this topic. I wrote the organizers to politely ask if they really thought this would still be a thing by the time the conference happened. One of them was an enthusiastic proponent, so yes.

Narrator: it was not.

By the time the conference happened, the related claims had all collapsed, and all the scientists invited to speak about it talked instead about something completely different, as if it had never been a thing at all.

X-rays from sterile neutrinos – or not

Later, there was the 3.5 keV line. If one squinted really hard at X-ray data, it looked like there might sorta kinda be an unidentified line. This didn’t look particularly convincing, and there are instances when new lines have been discovered in astronomical data rather than laboratory data (e.g., helium was first recognized in the spectrum of the sun, hence the name; also nebulium, which was later recognized to be ionized oxygen), so again, one needed to consider the astrophysical possibilities.

Of course, it was much more exciting to claim it was dark matter. Never mind that it was a silly energy scale, being far too low mass to be cold dark matter (people seem to have forgotten*# the Lee-Weinberg limit, which requires mX > 2 GeV); a few keV is rather less than a few GeV. No matter, we can always come up with an appropriate particle – in this case, sterile neutrinos*$.

If you’ve read this far, you can see how this was going to pan out.

Gamma rays from WIMPs again, maybe maybe

So now we have a renewed claim that the Fermi excess is dark matter. Given the history related above, the reader may appreciate that my first reaction was Really? Are we doing this again?

“Many people have speculated that if we knew exactly why the bowl of petunias had thought that we would know a lot more about the nature of the Universe than we do now.”

― Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

This is different from the claim a decade ago. The claimed mass is different, and the signal is real, being part of the mess of emission from the Galactic center. The trick, as so often the case, is disentangling the dark matter signal from the plausible astrophysical sources.

Indeed, the signal is not new, only this particular fit with WIMP dark matter is. There had, of course, been discussion of all this before, but it faded out when it became clear that the Fermi signal was well explained by a population of millisecond pulsars. Astrophysics was again the more obvious interpretation*%. Or perhaps not: I suppose if you’re part of a community convinced that dark matter exists who is spending an enormous amount of time and resources looking for a signal from dark matter and whose basic knowledge of astrophysics extends little beyond “astronomical data show dark matter exists but are messy so there’s always room to play” then maybe invoking an invisible agent from an unknown dark sector seems just as plausible as an obvious astrophysical source. Hmmm… that would have sounded crazy to me even back when, like them, I was sure that dark matter had to exist and be made of WIMPs, but here we are.

Looking around in the literature, I see there is still a somewhat active series of papers on this subject. They split between no way and maybe.

For example, Manconi et al. (2025) show that the excess signal has the same distribution on the sky as the light from old stars in the Galaxy. The distribution of stars is asymmetrical thanks to the Galactic bar, which we see at an angle somewhere around ~30 degrees, so one end is nearer to us than the other, creating a classic “X/peanut” shape seen in other edge-on barred spiral galaxies. So not only is the spectrum of the signal consistent with millisecond pulsars, it has the same distribution on the sky as the stars from which millisecond pulsars are born. So no way is this dark matter: it is clearly an astrophysical signal.

Not to be dissuaded by such a completely devastating combination of observations, Muru et al. (2025) argue that sure, the signal looks like the stars, but the dark matter could have exactly the same distribution as the stars. They cite the Hestia simulations of the Local Group as an example where this happens. Looking at those, they’re not as unrealistic as many simulations, but they appear to suffer the common affliction of too much dark mass near the center. That leaves the dark matter more room to be non-spherical so maybe be lumpy in the same was as the stars, and also provide a higher annihilation signal from the high density of dark matter. So they say maybe, calling the pulsar and dark matter interpretations “equally compelling.”

Returning to Totani’s sort-of claimed detection, he also says

This cross section is larger than the upper limits from dwarf galaxies and the canonical thermal relic value, but considering various uncertainties, especially the density profile of the MW halo, the dark matter interpretation of the 20 GeV “Fermi halo” remains feasible.

Totani (2025)

OK, so there’s a lot to break down in this one sentence.

The canonical thermal relic value is kinda central to the whole WIMP paradigm, so needing a value higher than that is a red flag reminiscent of the need for a boost factor for the cosmic ray signal. There aren’t really enough WIMPs there to do the job unless we juice their effectiveness at making gamma rays. The juice factor is an order of magnitude here: Steigman et al. (2012) give 2.2 x 10-26 cm3s-1 for what the thermal cross-section should be vs. the (5-8) x 10-25 cm3s-1 suggested by Totani (2025).

It is also worth noting that one point of Steigman’s paper is that as a well-posed hypothesis, the WIMP cross section can be calculated; it isn’t a free parameter to play with, so needing the cross-section to be larger than the upper limits from dwarf galaxies is another red flag. If this is indeed a dark matter signal from the Galactic center, then the subhalos in which dwarf satellites reside should also be visible, as in the simulated image from via Lactea above. They are not, despite having fewer messy astrophysical signals to compete with.

So “remains feasible” is doing a lot of work here. That’s the scientific way of saying “almost certainly wrong, but maybe? Because I’d really like for it to work out that way.”

The dark matter distribution in the Milky Way

One of the critical things here is the density of dark matter near the Galactic center, as the signal scales as the square of the density. Totani (2025) simply adopts the via Lactea simulation to represent the dark matter halo of the Galaxy in his calculations. This is a reasonable choice from a purely theoretical perspective, but it is not a conservative choice for the problem at hand.

What do we know empirically? The via Lactea simulation was dark matter only. There is no stellar disk, just a dark matter halo appropriate to the Milky Way. So let’s add that halo to a baryonic mass model of the Galaxy:

The rotation curve of the via Lactea dark matter halo (red curve) combined with the Milky Way baryon distribution (light blue line). The total rotation (dark blue line) overshoots the data.

The important part for the Galactic center signal is the region at small radius – the first kpc or two. Like most simulations, via Lactea has a cuspy central region of high dark matter density that is inconsistent with data. This overshoots the equivalent circular velocity curve from observed stellar motions. I could fix the fit above by reducing the stellar mass, but that’s not really an option in the Milky Way – we need a maximal stellar disk to explain the microlensing rate towards the center of the Galaxy. The “various uncertainties, especially the density profile of the MW halo” statement elides this inconvenient fact. Astronomical uncertainties are ever-present, but do not favor a dark matter signal here.

We can subtract the baryonic mass model from the rotation curve data to infer what the dark matter distribution needs to be. This is done in the plot below, where it is compared to the via Lactea halo:

The empirical dark matter halo density profile of the Milky Way (blue line) compared to the via Lactea simulation (red line).

The empirical dark matter density profile of the Milky Way does not continue to rise inwards as steeply as the simulation predicts. It shows the same proclivity for a shallower core as pretty much every other galaxy in the sky. This reduced density of dark matter in the central couple of kpc means the signal from WIMP annihilation should be much lower than calculated from the simulated distribution. Remember – the WIMP annihilation signal scales as the square of the dark matter density, so the turn-down seen at small radii in the log-log plot above is brutal. There isn’t enough dark matter there to do what it is claimed to be doing.

Cry wolf

There have now been so many claims to detect dark matter that have come and gone that it is getting to be like the fable of the boy who cried wolf. A long series of unpersuasive claims does not inspire confidence that the next will be correct. Indeed, it has the opposite effect: it is going to be really hard to take future claims seriously.

It’s almost as if this invisible dark matter stuff doesn’t exist.


Note added: Jeff Grube points out in the comments that Wang & Duan (2025) have a recent paper showing that the dark matter signal discussed here also predicts an antiproton signal that is already excluded by AMS data. While I find this unsurprising, it is an excellent check. Indeed, it would have caused me to think again had the antiproton signal been there: independent corroboration from a separate experiment is how science is supposed to work.


#It has become a pattern for advocates of dark matter to write a speculative paper for the journals that is fairly restrained in its claims, then hype it as an actual detection to the press. It’s like “Even I think this is probably wrong, but let’s make the claim on the off chance it pans out.”

$Ironically, a detection from a particle collider would be a non-detection. The signature of dark matter produced in a collision would be an imbalance between the mass-energy that goes into the collision and that measured in detected particles coming out of it. The mass-energy converted into WIMPs would escape the detector undetected. This is analogous to how neutrinos were first identified, though Fermi was reluctant to make up an invisible, potentially undetectable particle – a conservative value system that modern particle physicists have abandoned. The 13,000 GeV collision energy of the LHC is more than adequate to make ~100 GeV WIMPs, so the failure of this detection mode is telling.

^A less obvious possibility is spontaneous decay. This would happen if WIMPs are unstable and decay with a finite half-life. The shorter the half-life, the more decays, and the stronger the resulting signal. This implies some fine-tuning in the half-life – if it is much longer than a Hubble time, then it happens so seldom it is irrelevant; if it is shorter than a Hubble time, then dark matter halos evaporate and stable galaxies don’t exist.

&Astroparticle physics, also known as particle astrophysics, is a relatively new field. It is also an oxymoron, being a branch of particle physics with only aspirational delusions of relevance to astrophysics. I say that to be rude to people who are rude to astronomers, but it is also true. Astrophysics is the physics of objects in the sky, and as such, requires all of physics. Physics is a broad field, so some aspects are more relevant than others. When I teach a survey course, it touches on gravity, electromagnetism, atomic and molecular quantum mechanics, nuclear physics, and with the discovery of exoplanets, increasingly on geophysics. Particle physics doesn’t come up. It’s just not relevant, except where it overlaps with nuclear physics. (As poorly as particle physicists think of astronomers, they seem to think even less of nuclear physicists, whom they consider to be failed particle physicists (if only they were smart enough!) and nuclear physicists hate them in return.) This new field of astroparticle physics seems to be all about dark matter as driven by early universe cosmology, with contempt for everything that happens in the 13 billion years following the production of the relic radiation seen as the microwave background. Anything later is dismissed as mere “gastrophysics” that is too complicated to understand so cannot possibly inform fundamental physics. I guess that’s true if one chooses to remain ignorant of it.

*Fishy results can also indicate something fishy with the data. I had a conversation with an instrument builder at the time who pointed out that PAMELA had chosen to fly without a particular discriminator in order to save weight; he suggested that its absence could explain the apparent upturn in positrons.

##There is a relatively nearby pulsar that fits the bill. It has a name: Geminga. This illustrates the human tendency to see what we’re looking for. The astroparticle community was looking for dark matter, so that’s what many of them saw in the excess cosmic ray signal. High energy astrophysicists work on neutron stars, so the obvious interpretation to them was a pulsar. One I recall being particularly scornful of the dark matter interpretation when there was an obvious astrophysical source. I also remember the astroparticle people being quick to dismiss the pulsar interpretation because it seemed unlikely to them for one to be so close but really they hadn’t thought about it before: that pulsars could do this was news to them, and many preferred to believe the dark matter interpretation.

$$All the people barking were men.

&&This experience opened my eyes to the existence of an entire community of scientists who were working on dark matter in somewhat gratuitous ignorance of the astronomical evidence for dark matter. To them, the existence of the stuff had already been demonstrated; the interesting thing now was to find the responsible particle. But they were clearly missing many important ingredients – another example is disk stability, a foundational reason to invoke dark matter that seems to routinely come as a surprise to particle physicists. This disconnect is part of what motivated me to develop an entire semester course on dark matter, which I’ve taught every other year since 2013 and will teach again this coming semester. The first time I taught it, I worried that there wasn’t enough material for a whole semester. Now a semester isn’t enough time.

**I had a college friend (sadly now deceased) who was part of the team that discovered the Higgs. That was big business, to the extent that there were two experiments – one to claim the detection, and another on the same beam to do the confirmation. The first experiment exceeded the arbitrary 5σ threshold to claim a 5.2σ detection, but the second only reached 4.9σ. So, in all appropriateness, he asked in a meeting if they could/should really announce a detection. A Nobel prize was on the line, so the answer was straightforward: Do you want a detection or not? (His words.)

*#Rather than forget, some choose to fiddle ways around the Lee-Weinberg limit. This has led to the sub-genre of “light dark matter” which means lightweight, not luminous. I’d say this was the worst name ever, but the same people talk about dark photons with a straight face, so irony continues to bleed out.

*$Ironically, a sterile neutrino has also been invoked to address problems in MOND.

*%I was amused once to see one of the more rabid advocates of dark matter signals of this type give an entire talk hyping the various possibilities only to mention pulsars at the end with a sigh, admitting that the Fermi signal looked exactly like that.