A machine in Hefei finished in minutes what the fastest supercomputer on Earth would need 6.4 billion years to do. And no computer alive can check its answer.
This is the full story of China's Zuchongzhi 3.0 quantum computer: the random circuit sampling result on the cover of Physical Review Letters, the man who built it, and the question that has followed quantum computing since David Deutsch asked it in 1997. Where does the computation actually happen? Google's own founder, Hartmut Neven, says results like these lend credence to the multiverse. His critics say he's confusing mathematics with reality. Meanwhile the benchmark war between Google and Beijing, the unverifiable regime, and China's new below-threshold error correction are pushing the machines toward the one algorithm that ends at your encrypted data.
Covered in this video: Zuchongzhi 3.0 and Zuchongzhi 3.2, random circuit sampling, Google Willow and Sycamore, quantum supremacy and how it fell, David Deutsch's Fabric of Reality challenge, Shor's algorithm, harvest now decrypt later, and the NSA's 2030 deadline for quantum resistant encryption.
In March 2025, a machine in Hefei, China,
spent a few hundred seconds on a problem that the fastest
supercomputer on earth would need 6.4 billion years to finish.
That's not a typo, it's on the
cover of Physical Review Letters.
But the man who founded Google's rival quantum program says
results like these lend weight to one explanation,
that the computation is spread across parallel
universes. So what is this Chinese machine actually doing
in those few hundred seconds?
That question has been open since 1997,
and it just stopped being philosophy. The machine is
called Zuchongzhi 3.0,
a superconducting quantum processor at the University of Science and
Technology of China, 105 qubits connected by 182 couplers,
every operation running above 99%
accuracy. A qubit is the part you need to hold in your
head for the next 10 minutes.
A normal bit is a zero or a one. One or the other. Always.
A qubit can sit in a blend of both at once.
And every qubit you add doubles the number
of possibilities the machine holds in play.
By 83 qubits, you're at roughly 10 trillion
trillion possibilities at once.
The test Zuchongzhi beat the world with is
called random circuit sampling.
You push the qubits through a long random
sequence of operations, a deliberate quantum scramble,
then you ask the machine for samples
of what falls out. Picture a set of dice
that are all invisibly linked, so the rolls come
out carrying a hidden pattern.
The machine just rolls, and the greatest check, whether
its rolls carry the statistical fingerprint
that this exact circuit should produce. Anything
classical that wants to imitate those rolls,
has to track every possibility in the scramble
at once. And with 83 qubits pushed through 32 rounds,
that tracking swallows supercomputers
whole. Frontier, the American supercomputer,
would need billions of years to imitate what
Zuchongzhi delivered in minutes.
One million samples, and a million times faster than the
best result Google had published only a few months earlier.
The man behind it is Pan Jianwei,
and his career is its own signal.
He earned his PhD in Vienna under Anton Zeilinger, the
physicist who later won the Nobel Prize for entanglement,
then went home in 2001
to build a quantum lab in Hefei.
In 2016 his team launched Micius, the world's
first quantum satellite,
and a year later Pan called his old professor over a
quantum encrypted video line from Beijing to Vienna.
A connection built so
that any eavesdropper on the line would
give themselves away. In China they call
him the father of quantum. In 2024 London's Royal Society elected him a
fellow, in the same stretch that Washington
was tightening export controls on China's
quantum industry.
For Zu Chongzhi, his group picked random circuit sampling
as the proving ground, and that choice
looks like a technicality right now.
Hold on to it, because it decides the end of this story.
Oxford, 1997.
A physicist named David Deutsch publishes
a book called The Fabric of Reality, and buried
in it is a challenge that reads like a riddle.
Shor's algorithm, the quantum method for cracking
the encryption that protects banks and governments
Deutsch worked out that running it
on a serious number would use something like 10 to the power
500 times more computational resources than
the universe visibly contains. For scale, the entire
visible universe holds about 10 to the power 80 atoms.
The algorithm needs more working space than
there are atoms to build it from.
And yet the math says it finishes. And Deutsch is no outsider
shouting at the field. He wrote the founding paper
of quantum computing itself back in
1985. So he asked the question nobody has managed to bury.
When the algorithm factors
that number, where was the number factorized?
His answer was blunt. The work gets done in
parallel universes.
And a working quantum computer is the multiverse showing its hand.
At the time you could file all of it under thought experiments,
because no machine on
Earth came close to making it bite.
The machine started biting in 2019. That autumn, Google
announced its Sycamore processor had done
a sampling task in 200 seconds that would
take a supercomputer 10,000 years,
and the phrase quantum supremacy went around the world.
It held up for less than three years.
Then three physicists in Beijing, Feng Pan, Ke Yang
Chen and Pan Zhang, came forward with a classical method
that pulled a million samples out of
Sycamore's supposedly impossible circuit
in about 15 hours on 512 ordinary GPUs and they estimated
that a top supercomputer could do it in tens of seconds
so the first quantum supremacy claim in
history was taken apart by Chinese physicists
with a room full of graphics cards Google's 10,000 year
wall had come down to an afternoon it stung
but it was also the best quality control the field ever
Google. Because from that day on,
nobody could publish a supremacy claim without asking what
the physicists in Beijing would do to it.
That defeat rewrote the rules for everyone.
From then on, a quantum machine had two opponents.
The supercomputers in front of it,
and every mathematician on earth,
hunting for a shortcut through its circuit.
The next machines were built with that scar tissue.
In December 2024, Google came back with a chip called Willow,
105 qubits. And a sampling result
it said would take
the world's fastest supercomputer 10 septillion years.
That's a one with 25 zeros,
and the universe is around 14 billion years old,
so headlines did what headlines do.
But the announcement carried a sentence
that physicists are still arguing about. Hartmut Neven,
the founder of Google Quantum AI, wrote that this mind-boggling number
exceeds known time scales in physics,
and that it lends credence to the notion that quantum
computation occurs in many parallel universes,
in line with the idea that we live in a multiverse,
a prediction first made by David Deutsch.
There it was, Deutsch's riddle, dormant for 27 years,
printed as the official commentary on a Google product,
and news outlets ran it straight.
Google says its chip may prove parallel universes exist.
The pushback came fast,
and it came from people who love quantum computing.
The astrophysicist Ethan Siegel
wrote that Neven had conflated a Hilbert space,
the mathematical arena where quantum states live,
with actual parallel universes.
Scott Aaronson, one of the field's most respected theorists,
put it drier. The new experiment doesn't add anything new
to this old debate, he wrote.
It's yet another confirmation of the predictions of quantum mechanics.
And on the physics, the critics have a point,
that every interpretation of quantum mechanics
predicts exactly the same machine behavior,
so no benchmark can crown one of them.
But go back and read what Deutsch demanded.
Not a prediction.
He wrote that solving the equations merely predicts
the algorithm will work.
What he demanded was an explanation of where all that work happens.
And to this day that demand is still standing there open.
It's also about to get company.
Because three months after Neven's sentence,
China answered with hardware.
That's the March 2025 result you started with,
and its real message sits in the fine print.
The paper places Zuchongzhi 3.0's circuit six orders
of magnitude beyond
Google's experiments and classical simulation cast.
In plain terms, the scramble runs so deep that the published shortcuts,
including the one that killed the 2019 claim,
don't come anywhere near it.
The same country that collapsed
the first supremacy claim has now built one that holds.
Where this race lands is the rest of this story.
and it runs straight through your own encrypted data.
So if you want the ending, this is a good moment to subscribe.
First, the technicality I asked you to hold on to.
To grade a machine on random circuit sampling,
someone has to work out what the right answers look like,
and working out those answers is the exact task
that takes billions of years.
Aaronson spelled out the consequence for Willow,
and it lands with full force in her face.
For the same reason the result would take 10
to the 25 years to simulate,
It would also take 10 to the 25 years to directly verify.
The teams do what they can.
They run smaller versions of the circuit
that a supercomputer can still confirm.
They measure error rates
and they extrapolate upward, which is honest work.
But the flagship number itself, the billions of years,
no computer on earth can mark that exam.
Aronson calls it an unverifiable regime.
And think about what that means for a second.
The machines now produce answers that nothing
in the classical universe can check.
We believe them anyway,
because every smaller test that could be checked came back right.
So there is a box in her face delivering in minutes work
the visible universe doesn't seem to have
room for, and the one referee who could tell us how.
A classical computer redoing the math would
need billions of years to finish the job.
The intelligence world stopped waiting for
that argument years ago in August 2021 the NSA put out
a warning in plain English adversaries
may be collecting encrypted data now waiting for the day
when quantum computers can decrypt it the
strategy has a name harvest now decrypt later
and it works like this the encrypted traffic you
produce today your banking sessions
your medical records diplomatic cables that still matter in 30
years can be recorded in transit and parked in storage.
It costs the collector
almost nothing, which is exactly why
the NSA felt the need to warn about it out
loud. Then one day, somewhere,
an error-corrected quantum machine matures,
runs Shor's algorithm, the same one from Deutsch's riddle,
and the entire archive
opens retroactively.
Every message you have ever sent through a fiber cable is
a candidate, and changing
your password tomorrow changes nothing, because the
copy in the archive keeps the old lock.
That's why the NSA has ordered American government systems
onto quantum-resistant encryption between 2030 and 2033.
New codes built on math problems quantum
machines have no known shortcut for. And why?
23 days after the Su Chongzhi 3.0 paper, Washington
added more than 50 Chinese companies to its export blacklist,
seven of them specifically for
advancing China's quantum program.
Another round of quantum-related additions followed in September.
You don't sanction a philosophy experiment.
Then, in December 2025, came the part that actually moves
those deadlines. Pan's group unveiled Su Chongzhi 3.2,
107 qubits, and this one wasn't chasing a
benchmark record. It demonstrated quantum error correction below
the fault tolerance threshold,
published as another cover paper in Physical Review Letters.
Qubits are fragile.
Heat, vibration, a stray photon,
and the blend of zero and one collapses.
Which is why every machine in this story still makes errors constantly.
Error correction spreads one perfect logical
qubit across many imperfect physical ones.
In the strongest version the Chinese team tested,
roughly a hundred physical qubits stood
guard around a single protected one.
And below threshold means that fixing now outruns the damage.
Each time the team stepped up the strength of the code,
the logical error rate dropped by a factor of 1.4 per step.
A sampling benchmark breaks no codes.
But an error-corrected machine that keeps improving as it grows
is the road that ends at Shor's algorithm.
And China just showed it's on that road, with its own architecture.
A second route, parallel to Google's,
toward the machine the NSA is bracing for.
So go back to Hefei one more time.
Few hundred seconds of runtime,
on a circuit built so deep no published shortcut can touch it.
Graded on an exam no computer can mark.
Inside a machine whose qubits are,
according to the physics everyone shares,
genuinely holding all those possibilities at once.
The machine works, the predictions hold,
and the people who built these processors
for a living still can't agree on where the computation happens.
Nevin says the work is spread across parallel universes.
His critics say he's confusing
a mathematical space with real universes.
Deutsch asked this question in 1997.
Where was the number factorized?
And 28 years later, nobody has answered him.
The machines have only made it bigger.
From 200 seconds against 10,000 years,
to minutes against numbers that outrun the age
of the universe.
And for the first time since he asked it,
the machines making the question bigger are
coming out of Hefei.