The research, led by Sujal Manohar and Eden Noah Gelgoot with colleagues including Alex Walker, Nora McCarthy and Margaret S. Chisolm, set out to answer a question that has lingered around arts and humanities initiatives in medicine: how exactly do these activities enable learning and reflection? While the value of the arts and humanities in medical education has been increasingly recognized in recent years, with the potential to cultivate important clinical attributes, much of the literature has focused on outcomes rather than process. Less is known about how a processfolio actually functions as a vehicle for learning, and even less about the individual, lived experiences of the learners who create one. The Johns Hopkins team designed their study to close that gap, treating the students not as subjects to be measured but as narrators of their own educational journey.

Methodologically, the study took a deliberately qualitative approach. The researchers employed a cross-sectional design anchored in Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis, or IPA, a methodological framework that aims to uncover how individuals make sense of their personal and social world. IPA is well suited to questions of lived experience because it asks researchers to engage in a double hermeneutic: participants are interpreting their own experiences, and the researchers are then interpreting those interpretations. In this case, the data came from three sources. First, the researchers analyzed the completed processfolios themselves, the summative course artefacts in which students had assembled their work. Second, they examined the students’ final written reflections. Third, they conducted individual semi-structured interviews with each participant, allowing them to elaborate on what the processfolio had meant to them.

The sample was small but remarkably complete. All five fourth-year medical students who finished the museum-based course chose to participate in the research study. That total participation is significant in qualitative research of this kind, because it means the findings capture the full cohort rather than a self-selected fragment of it. It also reflects the voluntary, trust-based nature of the study, which was reviewed by the Johns Hopkins University Institutional Review Board and deemed exempt research under reference number IRB00365270. Because the study was classified as exempt, the institutional review board determined that it did not include informed consent procedures or fall under specific guidelines for research with human subjects. The exemption also signals the educational, non-interventional character of the work: the researchers were studying artefacts and reflections that already existed as part of the course.

From their analysis, the researchers distilled four Group Experiential Themes, the shared patterns of meaning that emerged across the five participants’ accounts. The first theme, contemplating the journey of reflection, growth and insight, speaks to the processfolio’s core function: it makes learning visible over time. Rather than submitting a single polished product at the end of a course, students accumulate artefacts that trace how their thinking evolved week by week. Looking back across that accumulation, participants could see their own intellectual and emotional trajectory in a way that conventional assessments rarely allow. The processfolio became, in effect, a mirror held up to the learning process itself, letting students contemplate not just what they had learned but how they had learned it.

The second theme, exploring personal and emotional growth, points to a dimension of medical training that is often squeezed out by the demands of scientific coursework. Medical students are routinely taught to compartmentalize emotion, yet the capacity to recognize and process one’s own emotional responses is increasingly understood as central to physician wellbeing and patient care. In the museum-based course, engagement with art opened a space where emotional responses were not only permitted but expected to be examined. The processfolio gave students a private, structured repository for that examination, and the act of assembling it encouraged them to connect their experiences in the gallery to their emerging identities as physicians. Participants reflected on their development as medical students and future physicians, a conclusion the authors highlight as central to the study’s purpose.

The third theme is perhaps the most clinically resonant: communicating in clinical contexts, with attention to the importance and complexity of both verbal and non-verbal communication. Art museums are, in a sense, laboratories of observation. Standing before a painting or sculpture, students must describe what they see, tolerate ambiguity, and recognize that others may perceive the same object differently. These are precisely the skills that translate to the bedside, where a physician’s reading of a patient’s posture, expression and silence can matter as much as any laboratory value. The processfolio documented this translation, capturing how students moved from describing artworks to thinking about how they describe patients, and how much of clinical communication happens without words at all.

The fourth theme, acknowledging the complex history of medicine and advocating for better practices, reveals a critical, even activist dimension of the experience. Museums and medicine share entangled histories, and engagement with artistic and historical material prompted students to confront uncomfortable truths about how their profession has treated patients, particularly those from marginalized communities. Rather than treating the arts and humanities as a decorative supplement to clinical training, this theme shows them functioning as a lens for professional critique. Students did not simply absorb the history of medicine; they interrogated it, and the processfolio preserved that interrogation as a record of their evolving ethical commitments. The authors frame this as learners advocating for better practices, a striking outcome for a course that takes place far from any hospital ward.

The study is candid about its limitations and about the fact that the processfolio is not a frictionless tool. Learners shared challenges related to its use, an acknowledgment that matters for educators considering adoption. A processfolio demands sustained reflective labor across a course, and students accustomed to the metrics of biomedical assessment may find the open-ended, self-documenting format unfamiliar or burdensome. The authors also emphasize that the research was conducted at a single institution with a small sample size, which constrains how far the findings can be generalized. Five students at one medical school cannot speak for all learners everywhere, and the authors explicitly call for future research in this area to test and extend what they observed.

Even with those caveats, the study offers a rare, granular look inside an arts and humanities intervention that is often praised in the abstract but seldom examined from the learner’s point of view. By combining analysis of the processfolios and written reflections with in-depth interviews, and by interpreting that material through the lens of Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis, the researchers have shown how a single pedagogical artefact can carry a student through contemplation of their own growth, exploration of their emotional life, refinement of their communicative instincts and confrontation with their profession’s history. The work was published open access on 1 October 2026, received on 11 April and accepted on 10 September of that year, with Manohar and Gelgoot serving as co-first authors. Chisolm’s contribution was supported through her direction of the Paul McHugh Program for Human Flourishing at Johns Hopkins. As medical schools worldwide continue to weave the arts and humanities into their curricula, this study suggests that the humble processfolio, a folder of artefacts and reflections assembled over four weeks in a museum, may be one of the most quietly powerful instruments for shaping the physicians of tomorrow.

Subject of Research: Use of processfolios in arts and humanities-based museum education for reflective learning in medical students

Article Title: Exploring the use of processfolios in a museum-based course for medical students

Article References: Manohar, S., Gelgoot, E. N., Walker, A., McCarthy, N., & Chisolm, M. S. (2026). Exploring the use of processfolios in a museum-based course for medical students. BMC Medical Education. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12909-026-10394-5

Image Credits: AI Generated

DOI: 10.1186/s12909-026-10394-5

Keywords: medical education, arts and humanities, processfolio, museum-based education, reflection, Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis, medical humanities, qualitative research, Johns Hopkins, experiential education, pedagogy, communication skills

The study was conducted by Professor Ge Wei and Professor Haiyan Wang of Capital Normal University in Beijing, who examined a service-learning program at a Chinese normal university. The program emerged in direct response to China’s “double reduction” policy, a national initiative designed to ease the burden of homework and after-school tutoring on schoolchildren. Within the program, pre-service teachers designed and delivered online courses to schoolchildren across the country, working under the guidance of experienced mentors. The setting mattered: rather than a brief, isolated teaching placement, the participants were embedded in an extended, socially consequential service activity with continuous institutional support.

Theoretically, the researchers grounded their analysis in activity theory, a framework that treats human learning as mediated by tools, communities, and social structures rather than as a purely individual mental achievement. They then added a distinctly Chinese philosophical layer. “We invoke the ancient Chinese concept of Yin and Yang (阴阳) as a metaphor for the dialectical relationship between practice and reflection in teacher education,” Wei and Wang explain. “It offered culturally grounded resources for rethinking teacher learning beyond dualism.” In this framing, practice and reflection are not opposing poles to be balanced but complementary aspects of one activity, each containing and generating the other, much as the yin and yang of traditional Chinese thought interpenetrate rather than exclude one another.

One of the study’s central findings is a critique of how the theory–practice divide has historically been understood. The authors found that the problem has typically been framed as an individual, psychological failing — a deficit in the student teacher’s knowledge, skills, or ability to “apply” theory. Their analysis reframes it instead as a collective, socio-cultural problem. On this view, the divide persists because the activity systems surrounding novice teachers — universities, schools, policies, and digital infrastructures — are not designed to let theory and practice transform each other. Fixing it therefore requires redesigning those systems, not simply exhorting student teachers to reflect harder.

The Chinese context proved unusually fertile for such a redesign. According to the study, the “double reduction” policy, combined with university–school collaboration and digital mediation, created what the researchers describe as a fertile ecology for dialectical unity to emerge. The national policy supplied purpose and urgency; the university–school partnership supplied mentors and authentic classroom connections; and the online delivery format supplied a mediating tool through which pre-service teachers could reach real learners at scale. Each element alone would have been insufficient. Together, they formed an activity system in which teaching practice and theoretical reflection could feed continuously into one another.

The most striking result concerns what happened to the pre-service teachers themselves. The study reveals that when novices engage in service learning guided by mentors and peers, their practice and reflection become mutually transformative rather than sequentially separated. Instead of first learning theory and then applying it, the participants reworked their theoretical knowledge in light of real classroom encounters and generated new professional understanding in the process. Reflection was not a post-hoc journaling exercise appended to teaching; it was woven into the act of designing, delivering, and revising instruction for actual children with actual needs. Theory, in turn, was not a fixed script but a living resource that the novices reshaped as they taught.

From these findings, the authors draw three practical implications for initial teacher education programs worldwide. First, programs should stop treating theory as something to be simply applied to practice. Well-designed service learning creates opportunities for the two to transform each other, as novices confront the gap between their assumptions and classroom reality and rebuild their professional understanding accordingly. Second, continuous mentoring and peer collaboration are essential. In the studied program, participants designed, rehearsed, and revised their teaching together rather than working in isolation, making the collective — not the lone student teacher — the basic unit of professional learning. Third, service learning can cultivate a sense of professional responsibility to society: by engaging in a national policy initiative and serving schoolchildren across the country, the pre-service teachers came to see teaching not merely as a job but as a socially meaningful commitment.

Taken together, these principles point to a conclusion that challenges a common policy reflex. Bridging the theory–practice divide, the authors argue, requires more than increasing the number of practicum hours. What matters is the design of authentic, socially consequential activities in which pre-service teachers can practice, reflect, and grow with the support of mentors, peers, and meaningful mediating tools. Hours spent in poorly structured placements, where novices are dropped into classrooms without collective inquiry or genuine purpose, may reproduce the very divide they are meant to close. The quality of the activity system, not the quantity of exposure, is the decisive variable.

The study also stakes out a broader ambition for the field. The authors propose a critical activist role for initial teacher education in transforming societies, a perspective that resonates with growing international calls for more equitable and socially engaged teacher preparation. On this account, teacher education should not merely reproduce the existing schooling system but equip future teachers to question and improve it — and service learning, by tying professional learning to real societal needs, offers one concrete mechanism for doing so. The Chinese program’s alignment with the “double reduction” policy illustrates how national priorities, when paired with university infrastructure, can become a vehicle for socially engaged professional formation rather than a top-down mandate alone.

“The making of high-quality teachers depends on both a sustainable policy ecology and locally grounded spaces in which practitioners can collectively redesign the practices of teacher education,” Wei and Wang conclude. The claim is a pointed one for policymakers and deans alike: high-quality teaching cannot be manufactured by curriculum documents and exam requirements alone. It requires an ecology — stable policies, collaborative institutions, digital tools, and communal spaces — in which the ancient dialectic of doing and thinking can operate as a unity. For a profession long divided between the seminar room and the classroom, the message from Beijing is that the bridge between the two is not built by adding more of either side, but by redesigning the activity that connects them. The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, or publication of the article, which appeared in ECNU Review of Education under the title “Practice and Reflection as a Dialectical Unity: Pre-Service Teachers’ Experience in a Service-Learning Program.”

Subject of Research: Service learning as a means of integrating theory and practice in pre-service teacher education

Article Title: Chinese study reveals how service learning bridges the theory–practice divide in teacher education

Article References: Chinese study reveals how service learning bridges the theory–practice divide in teacher education. (n.d.). Original publication

Image Credits: AI Generated

DOI: Not provided

Keywords: teacher education, service learning, pre-service teachers, theory-practice divide, activity theory, yin and yang, double reduction policy, Capital Normal University, ECNU Review of Education, mentoring, reflection, China

At the heart of the framework lies a three-level distinction that challenges how VR research is often reported. Technological immersion refers to objectively describable properties of a media system, such as representational fidelity, interactivity, sensorimotor contingency, and the range of sensory channels addressed. Subjective immersive experience, by contrast, describes the temporally variable ways learners perceive and interpret their interaction with a virtual environment, including presence, engagement, embodiment, and perceived agency. Immersive learning, the third level, denotes a pedagogically designed process in which a potentially immersive activity is connected with prior experiences, preparation, situated tasks, educator guidance, and subsequent reflection and transfer. Confusing these levels, the paper argues, leads to the widespread but unjustified assumption that wearing a headset automatically produces presence, engagement, or understanding.

The theoretical backbone of the model draws on John Dewey’s pragmatist conception of experience, particularly his principles of continuity and interaction. Continuity means that every experience draws on preceding experiences and shapes how later ones are interpreted. Interaction refers to the relationship between a learner’s existing dispositions and the objective conditions of a situation. Under this view, learners never enter a virtual environment as neutral recipients of stimuli; they arrive with prior knowledge, expectations, values, emotions, media experience, and culturally shaped interpretive frameworks. The same virtual scenario may become a challenging learning opportunity for one student, confirm an existing belief for another, or remain confusing or irrelevant for a third. Dewey’s warning that not every experience is educative, and that some may even restrict future learning, sits uncomfortably beside the enthusiasm that often surrounds educational VR.

The I-MEIL organizes VR-supported learning into three interrelated phases: prior and preparatory experience, situated immersive experience, and reflective and transfer-oriented experience. The first phase encompasses learners’ biographical and educational backgrounds alongside instructional preparation, such as activating prior knowledge, clarifying tasks, establishing expectations, and developing technical familiarity. The second phase concerns situated interaction with the designed environment and the cognitive, affective, and excitative response states that may arise within it. The third phase comprises pedagogically supported opportunities to articulate, contextualize, critically appraise, consolidate, and transfer what was experienced. Crucially, these phases are not conceived as automatically completed stages or a fixed causal sequence; they identify analytically distinct yet interdependent parts of a learning design whose relationships vary with learners, tasks, content, facilitation, and context.

Technological features, in this framework, function as affordances rather than direct causes. Drawing on James Gibson’s ecological psychology, the model treats possibilities for action as arising in the relationship between an environment and an acting individual. Manipulating a virtual object may support procedural exploration when aligned with a learning goal, but it may be irrelevant or distracting when peripheral to the task. Multisensory information may aid orientation in one application while imposing unnecessary processing demands in another. Fidelity itself should not be equated with visual realism; a highly realistic representation may be unnecessary or even distracting when schematic information better supports the intended task, while detailed spatial representation may be essential when learners must distinguish subtle features or navigate complex environments.

During the situated phase, the model draws on the Differential Susceptibility to Media Effects Model to describe three transient response states. Cognitive responses concern attention, interpretation, and mental effort; affective responses include interest, curiosity, enjoyment, discomfort, or frustration; excitative responses refer to physiological arousal. These states may fluctuate constantly during a VR activity because of distraction, task difficulty, technical disruption, cybersickness, or deliberate disengagement. Constructs frequently measured in VR studies, such as presence, agency, embodiment, and cognitive load, serve as indicators of selected aspects of this experience, but the model insists they are not interchangeable and not evidence of learning in themselves. A high presence score documents a subjective response; it does not demonstrate conceptual understanding, reflection, or transfer.

The framework also takes a cautious stance on one of VR’s most hyped applications: perspective-taking. Virtual environments can present situations from a particular visual position and invite learners to consider other people’s experiences, but occupying a first-person perspective or controlling an avatar does not reproduce another person’s cognitive standpoint, identity, or lived experience. Learners continue to interpret representations from their own social, cultural, and biographical positions. When simulations address marginalization, discrimination, homelessness, or migration, the model warns against equating perspective-taking with becoming another person, a critique that echoes longstanding concerns about so-called cybernetic tourism and the reduction of situated identities to temporarily consumable representations.

Reflection and transfer form the third instructional function, and the model argues they cannot be assumed to occur spontaneously. Learners may remove the headset with fragmented impressions, unresolved emotions, misconceptions, or unanswered questions. Post-VR reflection has distinctive objects: learners can examine not only the represented content but also how technological mediation shaped what they noticed, felt, or were able to do, and what the simulation omitted or whose perspective it privileged. Generative activities such as self-explanation, summarizing, and collaborative discussion can support integration, but the paper cites evidence that strategies effective in other contexts may yield no additional benefit in procedural VR learning and may even introduce competing demands. Preparation and reflection, in other words, are conditional design elements rather than universally effective additions.

The model’s implications for research are equally demanding. Studies should distinguish technological conditions, subjective response states, instructional processes, and learning outcomes, combining self-reports, behavioral and interaction data, physiological measures, and outcome assessments rather than relying on any single indicator. Longitudinal and process-oriented designs are prioritized because the educational meaning of a VR activity may emerge across time rather than during the virtual episode alone. For designers, the framework offers a sequence of questions rather than a prescription: identify a genuine educational or biographical need, compare VR against alternatives such as video, desktop simulation, or role-play, and select the technology only when its representational and interactive conditions contribute meaningfully to the task. Learning outcomes themselves are treated as multidimensional, spanning cognitive, affective, attitudinal, behavioral, and psychomotor domains, and as recursive: new understanding may generate fresh questions and needs, reconnecting the virtual episode with the learner’s continuing stream of experiences. In an era of accelerating VR adoption, the I-MEIL offers a sobering but constructive message: the headset is where the technology begins, not where the learning ends.

Subject of Research: A conceptual model of how virtual reality-supported immersive learning connects prior experience, preparation, situated engagement, reflection, and transfer

Article Title: An integrative model of virtual reality supported immersive learning within a biographical stream of experiences

Article References: Mulders, M. (2026). An integrative model of virtual reality supported immersive learning within a biographical stream of experiences. Discover Education, 5(1), Article 1070. https://doi.org/10.1007/s44217-026-02219-w

Image Credits: AI Generated

DOI: 10.1007/s44217-026-02219-w

Keywords: virtual reality, immersive learning, educational technology, instructional design, experiential learning, presence, embodiment, cognitive load, reflection, transfer of learning, Dewey, learner agency

A new analysis published in Communications Engineering examines how two familiar wave phenomena, reflection and transmission, can be harnessed systematically to keep terahertz links alive when the direct path between transmitter and receiver is blocked. The work argues that non-line-of-sight terahertz communication should not be treated as an afterthought or a failure mode, but as a first-class design objective, engineered deliberately into the architecture of future sixth-generation networks. By treating reflective surfaces such as walls, ceilings, glass facades, and even road signs as passive allies, and by exploiting controlled transmission through materials such as drywall and window glass, the study sketches a pathway toward terahertz coverage that survives the shadows cast by everyday obstacles.

The scale of the challenge is rooted in fundamental electromagnetics. As frequency increases, the free-space path loss between two antennas grows with the square of the frequency, so a terahertz link at 300 gigahertz suffers dramatically more spreading loss than a microwave link carrying the same distance. Diffraction, the phenomenon that allows lower-frequency radio waves to bend around corners and fill rooms with coverage, becomes vanishingly weak at terahertz frequencies because the wavelengths, on the order of a millimeter or less, are tiny compared with the edges and gaps of ordinary objects. Scattering from rough surfaces, which would smear energy in many directions at lower frequencies, becomes more specular and directional, meaning that a terahertz wave bounces off a flat wall much the way a billiard ball bounces off a cushion: predictably, but only along a narrow geometric path determined by the law of reflection.

This directional character is a double-edged sword. On one hand, it means that a blocked terahertz link cannot rely on the diffuse, multipath-rich propagation that made older cellular systems robust. On the other hand, it means that reflected paths are stable, identifiable, and potentially very high quality. A signal that bounces once off a well-positioned wall arrives with a predictable delay, a predictable angle of arrival, and, if the surface is sufficiently smooth and conductive, only a modest additional loss. The new analysis emphasizes that in many indoor and street-canyon scenarios, first- and second-order reflected paths can deliver received power levels well within the sensitivity range of modern terahertz receivers, provided that the antenna beams are steered to illuminate and collect from those paths deliberately.

Beam steering is therefore the linchpin of the approach. Terahertz systems almost universally employ highly directional antennas, often implemented as phased arrays of many small radiating elements, to concentrate their limited power into a narrow pencil beam and to overcome path loss. In a line-of-sight world, pointing such a beam is straightforward. In a non-line-of-sight world, the network must first discover which reflective or transmissive paths exist, then select the best one, and then keep the beam locked onto it as people move and doors swing open. The analysis highlights beam management as a central research problem: hierarchical search procedures, machine-learning-assisted path prediction, and the use of out-of-band or sub-6-gigahertz control channels to cue the terahertz beam are all candidate techniques for finding a viable reflected route in milliseconds rather than seconds.

Reconfigurable intelligent surfaces, sometimes called smart metasurfaces, extend this idea from accidental reflectors to engineered ones. These are thin panels studded with subwavelength elements whose electromagnetic response can be tuned electronically, allowing the panel to act as a programmable mirror that redirects an incoming terahertz beam toward a chosen receiver, or even to shape the wavefront in ways a plain wall never could. Mounted on ceilings, building facades, or interior walls, such surfaces could serve as deliberate relay points, stitching together coverage in courtyards, corridors, and factory floors where no natural reflection geometry happens to work. The study situates these engineered surfaces alongside natural reflections as complementary tools in the non-line-of-sight toolkit, noting that their low power consumption and passive operating principle make them attractive for dense deployment.

Transmission, the second pillar of the analysis, is often dismissed at terahertz frequencies because many common building materials attenuate the signal severely. Concrete and brick are effectively opaque, and even wood and glass introduce losses that grow rapidly with frequency and thickness. Yet the picture is nuanced. Drywall, plasterboard, and standard window glass can pass usable fractions of the incident power at the lower end of the terahertz range, particularly near 100 to 140 gigahertz, where several standards bodies are now defining early commercial allocations. A signal that passes through a single interior wall may arrive attenuated but decodable, especially when the transmitter can boost power or the receiver can integrate over longer symbol durations. The analysis argues that material-aware network planning, in which the propagation database records not only reflectivity but also transmissivity of the surfaces in a given environment, allows the network to choose intelligently between penetrating an obstacle and bouncing around it.

The interplay between reflection and transmission also shapes how channel models must evolve. Classical statistical channel models, built for scattering-rich microwave environments, poorly describe terahertz links, which are dominated by a small number of deterministic geometric paths. Ray-tracing simulations, seeded with accurate three-dimensional models of buildings and streets and with measured material parameters, emerge as the preferred planning tool. The analysis stresses that measurement campaigns at terahertz frequencies remain comparatively sparse, and that closing this gap between modeled and measured channel behavior is essential before operators can trust simulated coverage maps. Hybrid approaches that combine sparse measurements with ray-tracing interpolation, updated in real time from the feedback that connected devices report, offer a pragmatic middle path.

The implications reach well beyond faster smartphone downloads. Terahertz non-line-of-sight techniques are critical for industrial wireless networks, where metal machinery guarantees that direct paths will be blocked, and where deterministic, ultra-reliable low-latency communication is a hard requirement for replacing factory cabling. They matter for vehicular networks, where the geometry of a street canyon creates rich reflection opportunities off building walls and parked vehicles, and for integrated sensing and communication, in which the same reflected terahertz signals that carry data can simultaneously image the environment. They also underpin the vision of wireless data centers and chip-to-chip links, where racks and heat sinks create a maze of reflective metal surfaces that a well-designed terahertz system can exploit rather than suffer.

Considerable engineering hurdles remain before reflected and transmitted terahertz paths can be managed at network scale. Phased arrays with thousands of elements consume significant power, and the phase shifters and amplifiers behind them are still costly at these frequencies. Beam alignment protocols must become faster and more energy-efficient, and handover between line-of-sight and non-line-of-sight states must be seamless enough that users never notice the network quietly rerouting their connection around a passing pedestrian. Standardization bodies are actively working to define the measurement, signaling, and beam-management procedures that would let multiple vendors implement interoperable non-line-of-sight behavior. What the new analysis makes clear is that the physics need not be an enemy. The same specular, mirror-like behavior that makes terahertz waves unforgiving also makes them predictable, and predictability is precisely what a carefully engineered network needs. If future 6G systems learn to treat every wall and window as potential infrastructure, the terahertz frontier may arrive not despite the obstacles in its path, but because the network has learned to use them.

Subject of Research: Non-line-of-sight terahertz communications using reflection and transmission for future 6G networks

Article Title: Non-line-of-sight terahertz communications enabled by reflection and transmission

Article References: Liu, F., Seddon, J., Belio-Apaolaza, I., G. Huggard, P., Wang, H., Lia, E., Deborgies, F., Wu, J. E., Munshi, M. N., Fice, M., & Seeds, A. (2026). Non-line-of-sight terahertz communications enabled by reflection and transmission. Communications Engineering. https://doi.org/10.1038/s44172-026-00782-6

Image Credits: AI Generated

DOI: 10.1038/s44172-026-00782-6

Keywords: terahertz communications, non-line-of-sight, 6G, beam steering, reconfigurable intelligent surfaces, reflection, transmission, channel modeling, millimeter wave, wireless networks, Communications Engineering, phased arrays