| Clue Phrase | Halves of diameters |
|---|---|
| Standard Answer | RADII (plural of radius) |
| Clue Type | Geometry-related term, 5-letter solution |
| Puzzle Appearance | New York Times Mini Crossword, January 31, 2026 |
| Mathematical Definition | Radius = Diameter ÷ 2 |
| Application | Used to calculate circle area and circumference |
It’s easy to underestimate the excitement a five-letter phrase can bring when it slips into place seamlessly. That’s what happened with “Halves of diameters” in the New York Times Mini on January 31, 2026. Like the proper key slipping into an old lock, the solution—RADII—landed cleanly and instantly. Geometry-savvy solvers didn’t need to make guesses. They simply grinned and continued forward.
In recent puzzles, there’s been a pleasant return to clarity. Clues like this one offer a sense of equilibrium in the midst of a sea of slang, shifting cultural allusions, and quick news cycles. They draw on something consistent—mathematical relationships that remain unchanged regardless of era. The clue serves as a link between logic and language by tying a puzzle to something that is widely taught and seldom forgotten.
RADII is the plural of radius. As many may remember, a radius is the separation between a circle’s center and its edge. Its diameter is exactly half. Neither more nor less. That symmetry is part of its beauty. When “Halves of diameters” occurs as a hint, it doesn’t ask for interpretation—it asks for memory. And for solvers, that’s particularly advantageous when every second matters.
Puzzle creators can capitalize on the strength of shared knowledge, which is a remarkable aspect of crossword design, by incorporating a keyword such as RADII. There’s no need for a gimmick or double meaning. simply the satisfaction of resolving a problem that stems from our prior knowledge. Words like this are very effective for medium-sized grids like the Mini, which call for tight structure. They open up intersections without confining innovation.
I remember working through a similar clue during a short layover in Atlanta. Even though I was running low on ink, I hardly hesitated when I spotted “Halves of diameters.” The response arrived ahead of the ink. That remained with me—not just because I got it correct, but because it reminded me that some knowledge silently waits, ready to return.
Additionally, the term itself has a certain elegance. RADII has an almost melodic rhythm. It traverses a grid with ease. It is fairly adaptable from a linguistic standpoint; it begins and ends with strong letters and doesn’t conflict with most crossings. That is important for crossword editors. For solvers, it simply feels nice to write.
Through clever placement, clues like this highlight the larger importance of education in puzzle culture. They praise clarity as much as cunning. They serve as a reminder that knowledge has enduring value, whether it comes from a worn-out math textbook or high school geometry. And in the context of games that pride themselves on mental flexibility, that uniformity is remarkably grounding.
There are some clues in crossword puzzles that provide more than just a solution. They offer organization. One of those is “halves of diameters.” It’s a straight line through a circle, but metaphorically, it’s a straight line through the noise of a crowded puzzle. It helps solvers generate momentum. It provides them with a base.
The depiction and subject variety of crossword puzzles have significantly improved during the last ten years. But despite these evolutions, indications like this stay important. They’re not fashionable. They’re timeless. They may be particularly useful in a grid that is always changing because of this.
These hints encourage more people to participate in the solving process by reiterating fundamental ideas. Without lowering the bar, they lower the barrier. RADII is accessible to anyone who has taken a math course. For novice solvers in particular, this accessibility is encouraging.
Since the introduction of more mobile-optimized puzzles like the Mini, brief clues with specific answers have become more crucial. A swarm of bees stabilizing in midair, buzzing separately but bound together by direction, they serve as anchor points. Each clue ties to the others, and those like “Halves of diameters” typically perform the quiet heavy lifting.
In the next years, as puzzle design continues expanding to represent broader audiences, there’s a case to be made for retaining geometry on the board. Words like RADII remind us of structure, rules, proportion. They tell us that some forms—whether circular or linguistic—are extremely persistent.
Even though I already knew the answer, I found myself stopping at that clue once again when I went back to the January 31 problem. There was something soothing about its presence. Something I hadn’t forgotten but felt like a checkbox next to knowledge I hadn’t utilized in years.
Puzzles are more than just hobbies because of this. They turn into subdued affirmations. A chance to see what we know, to be startled by what we recall, and to recognize that learning—once done—rarely fades. It only waits, tucked away, until the grid calls it back into duty.
