Astrophysicist Connor Bottrell hunts dark matter through galaxy collisions and knee surgery

Connor Bottrell didn't peer through a telescope until well into adulthood, which makes what he does now seem almost improbable. The computational astrophysicist spends his days hunting for something that cannot be seen—dark matter, the invisible mass that comprises the vast majority of the universe's substance. He finds it by smashing galaxies together, though not literally. Instead, he runs simulations on powerful computers, generating collisions between distant galaxies and then comparing those digital reconstructions against what astronomers actually observe in the sky. The fingerprints dark matter leaves on visible matter—the light, gas, and stars we can detect—are what he's after. By mapping those patterns, he hopes to give particle physicists a clearer target for their search.

Bottrell grew up in Victoria, Canada, where his parents nurtured an interest in the natural world. He showed particular aptitude for mathematics in school, especially when applying it to natural systems, but by university he recognized that pure mathematics wasn't his calling. He pivoted toward computational work centered on astronomical datasets, completing his PhD at the University of Victoria. After graduation, he wanted to build a career abroad, and Australia appealed to him strongly—he'd had formative experiences at conferences there and imagined it as his next destination. An unsuccessful job application redirected him instead to Japan, where he spent two years at the Kavli Institute for the Physics and Mathematics of the Universe. That position proved unexpectedly valuable. Working alongside particle physicists, mathematicians, and cosmologists studying the early universe forced him to think about how his own research fit into a much larger scientific landscape. But his attention remained fixed on Australia.

After his stint in Japan, Bottrell landed the position he'd been seeking: a fellowship with the Forrest Research Foundation in Western Australia, working in conjunction with the University of Western Australia. His work there centers on narrowing down what dark matter might actually be. The method is elegant in its constraint: he cannot manufacture galaxy collisions himself, so he builds them in simulation, then tests those results against real-world observations. It's detective work of a particular kind—not hunting for a culprit but examining the evidence left behind at a scene. The fingerprints he identifies become clues for experimental physicists working with particle colliders and underground detectors, who can then refine their own search strategies.

What makes Bottrell's career unusual is that he splits his professional time between two seemingly unrelated domains. Two days each week, he works at ArthroLase, a Perth-based medtech company focused on improving robotic knee surgeries. The connection between galaxies and joints is not immediately obvious, but for a computational astrophysicist, the underlying tools are transferable. Both domains rely heavily on image analysis and pattern recognition. "Images are the currency of astronomers," Bottrell explains, and that same currency applies to medical imaging. ArthroLase aims to enhance the precision of robotic systems that remove damaged tissue and bone during knee replacement procedures. About 80,000 Australians undergo knee replacement surgery each year, making the stakes substantial. Some weeks, Bottrell uses the same computational models to create better maps of cartilage and bone that he uses to map the structure of the universe.

The dual pursuit reflects something deeper about how Bottrell approaches problems: a restless curiosity that refuses to be confined to a single discipline. Science, he acknowledges, is slow and difficult work. Australian research funding sits at historic lows, which makes the career path feel particularly daunting for younger researchers. Yet Bottrell's advice to those considering similar paths is unambiguous. "We sacrifice a lot for this," he says. "Curiosity has to be your priority." It's a statement that carries weight from someone who has already crossed continents in pursuit of understanding, whether that understanding concerns the invisible architecture of the cosmos or the precise mechanics of human joints.