Mysteries of the universe

What Will Tomorrow Bring?

Every evening, as we prepare to rest, this question arises within us: what will tomorrow hold? Perhaps it is the greatest mystery for all humankind. We can’t help but wonder about the future—what it has in store for us, and whether uncertainties or joys lie ahead.

Many of us wish we could look a few days, or even years, into the future. Will I be living the life of my dreams? Or is something painful waiting for me?

The truth is, the worst that can happen to any of us is death. Death eventually claims us all. In all of recorded history, no one has escaped it. No matter how much we try to delay or resist, death is inevitable.

On a cosmic scale, billions of years from now, even the Earth itself will perish—perhaps swallowed by the Sun or destroyed by a cataclysmic event such as an asteroid impact. Our existence will eventually dissolve into scattered atoms drifting through the vastness of space, returning to the same particles from which we came. In essence, we will return to a state of non-existence.

Yet, while we fade, the universe will carry on. The sun will rise and set on countless worlds. Seasons will change, tides will ebb and flow, stars will be born, and planets will form. Life, in one way or another, will continue weaving its intricate web. The cosmos itself will keep expanding and evolving—just as it always has.

Only this time, we will no longer be aware of the transformation, for our physical forms will have passed on.

Consequently, as we pass into non-existence, we may no longer perceive the cosmic changes unfolding around us. Yet, when you gaze upon the night sky, remember this: the very stars above may be composed of atoms that once belonged to living organisms.

Space is a vast sea of possibilities—a realm where even the impossible can sometimes become reality. Within it, we encounter anomalies that defy explanation, despite the universe being governed by strict mathematical laws. Consider the stars: if they truly obey immutable forces, why do they scatter in such apparent chaos? Why don’t they repeat recognizable patterns? Could this seeming disorder be a message—an intricate signal overlooked by humanity for centuries, perhaps crafted by an otherworldly intelligence?

And what about the billions upon billions of stars that populate the universe? If the cosmos is truly eternal and infinite, and stars are evenly spread across its expanse, then in any direction we look, we should see starlight. Every part of the night sky should glow brightly, as the light from even the most distant stars would have had infinite time to reach us. Yet, the sky remains mostly dark.

This haunting paradox has stirred human curiosity for centuries. With modern space telescopes and advanced instruments, we are closer than ever to peeling back the cosmic veil and illuminating the mysteries that have long eluded us.

Take, for example, the Apollo program. In one of the most iconic images, astronaut Eugene Cernan salutes the U.S. flag on the Moon’s surface. Look closely, and you’ll notice something peculiar: not a single star is visible in the lunar sky. In fact, none of the Apollo photos show stars, even though we know the universe is overflowing with them. Astronauts themselves reported they couldn’t see any stars while standing on the Moon.

This detail has fueled endless debates and conspiracy theories, with some even claiming it proves the Moon landings were staged. Yet, the explanation is far deeper—and far more profound—than any hoax theory. It leads us once again toward a greater cosmic truth: the nature of the universe itself.

Why, then, is space so black? This question, known as Olbers’ Paradox, was first posed by Johannes Kepler in 1610. After all, our Milky Way contains between 100 and 400 billion stars, while the observable universe holds an estimated 100 to 200 billion galaxies. By sheer numbers, the night sky should blaze as brightly as the surface of the Sun. But it does not.

Early attempts to solve the paradox suggested that distant stars were simply too far away for their light to reach us. But if the universe were eternal, as the once-dominant steady state theory claimed, then even light from the farthest stars should have arrived long ago, filling the sky with brightness.

Kepler and later astronomers wrestled with this puzzle for centuries, until the true solution emerged—not from speculation, but from the very foundations of cosmology itself: the Big Bang.

When humanity sends physical messages into the cosmos—such as plaques or golden records aboard spacecraft—an immense challenge arises. Space is unimaginably vast and mostly empty, making the chance of another civilization stumbling upon these objects by accident incredibly slim.

Even if such a discovery were made, these messages are purely unidirectional. They reflect our existence and aspirations but lack any way to receive or transmit responses. Without the possibility of a two-way exchange, there can be no true dialogue—no mutual sharing of ideas, knowledge, or culture.

Time further complicates the problem. Distances between celestial objects are so immense that communication becomes impractical. For example, even if the Voyager Golden Records were found, it would take thousands, if not millions, of years for a reply to ever reach us. Real-time or even timely interaction across such scales is virtually impossible, greatly limiting the chance for mutual learning.

For over six decades, humanity has also tried another approach—scanning the skies for artificial signals. Yet, despite our efforts, no confirmed signals have been detected. Our calls to the cosmos remain unanswered.

Today, the leading effort is SETI—the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence. Instead of traveling through space, SETI scientists use powerful radio telescopes stationed around the globe. These instruments listen for narrow-band radio signals—distinct transmissions that stand out against the natural background noise of the universe. The process is like tuning an FM radio to find a clear station amid static.

A key focus of SETI is the “water hole” frequency range, which includes the hydrogen line and the hydroxyl line. These frequencies are considered natural candidates for communication because hydrogen and hydroxyl are abundant throughout the universe. If intelligent beings were trying to send a deliberate signal, this would be a logical place to broadcast.

But even if a signal were found, another immense obstacle awaits: the language barrier.

Language is the foundation of human communication, allowing us to share emotions, ideas, and knowledge. But with extraterrestrials, we face an unknown. How do we decipher the codes of an alien civilization? What if their communication methods are nothing like ours?

When linguists study ancient human languages, they rely on context and comparisons with other known languages. With alien transmissions, these tools vanish—no shared context, no familiar structures, no cultural reference points.

And even assuming aliens use something like words or sounds is a massive assumption. Many Earth species communicate without spoken language. Cuttlefish and chameleons use color changes, while ants and honeybees rely on pheromones. If aliens communicate in ways beyond human imagination, our task becomes infinitely harder.

Even if we could translate their “words,” true understanding may still be out of reach. Human language is deeply tied to our culture and worldview. Imagine telling a squirrel: “I’m going on a hike and capturing stunning views with my drone.” To make sense of that, the squirrel would need explanations for hiking, capturing, views, drones, technology, flight, cameras, video recording—and even the idea of visual beauty.

Without a common frame of reference, meaningful communication across species—or civilizations—becomes a monumental challenge.