The Fight of The Century
So, there I was, having a conversation with an evolutionary ecologist about whether the theory of evolution was sufficient to explain the existence of non-living and living matter, time, space and energy—as well as the extraordinary diversity of living organisms and their necessary, corresponding environments. He essentially said, no, or at least no as regards the universe, which includes things like matter, time, space, energy, etc. And then he said “Once you have the essentials, meaning matter, time, space, blah, and blah blah, anything is possible.
“Why should that be?” I asked.
“Because!” he answered.
“Because of what?” I said.
“Why do you ask so many questions?” he responded.
He continued, “Listen, there are some really smart guys out there, and they say the universe doesn’t need a creator, that the universe could just spontaneously create itself! Who are you going to believe, a bunch of creationist loonies that think the earth is six thousand years old and that dinosaurs and cavemen were pals, hanging around the swamps together?”
I tried not to seem surprised; after all, The Flintstones was only a cartoon. Fred didn’t really drive a diplodocus-powered shovel at the construction site. And I didn’t want to seem like a creationist loony, whatever that meant. I didn’t really believe that the earth was six thousand years old either; it had to be at least seven, I thought. So I asked, “How could a universe that doesn’t exist create itself?”
He looked at me like he thought maybe I wasn’t so bright—or maybe he thought I was just trying to be funny. Then he said “Let’s say you have all the necessary ingredients to make a seven-course meal, a stove, some electricity, a bunch of food, meats, vegetables, water, salt, pepper, you get the idea. After that, you have to just wait."
"Why do we have to wait?" I asked.
"Because it’s not going to cook itself!" he said.
I responded, “How long do we have to wait?”
He looked at me, paused and then wiped the sweat from his forehead. It seemed like he might be getting a little irritated at my questions, and then he slowly spoke, “Listen, kid, you’re starting to bother me!”
"But…I need to know how the universe is going to cook a meal….or whatever!” I responded.
“It’s all about time,” he said, “Given enough time, anything is possible!” Then he added, with just a hint of anger, “Don’t you get it! Time makes everything possible!”
I scratched my head, thought for a minute, and then hesitantly asked, “Yeah, but what’s time?”
“Damn!” he responded, “No one knows for sure exactly what time is, but if you have enough of it, it can bring dead things to life, change things into other things, like turtles into armadillos, alligators into whales, even turn a stove, some food and electricity into a seven-course meal, with all the trimmings, place settings, napkins, tablecloths, and whatever!"
“Wow! I said, I thought they called that God!”
“Nope” he said, “they call that evolution!”
“Why should that be?” I asked.
“Because!” he answered.
“Because of what?” I said.
“Why do you ask so many questions?” he responded.
He continued, “Listen, there are some really smart guys out there, and they say the universe doesn’t need a creator, that the universe could just spontaneously create itself! Who are you going to believe, a bunch of creationist loonies that think the earth is six thousand years old and that dinosaurs and cavemen were pals, hanging around the swamps together?”
I tried not to seem surprised; after all, The Flintstones was only a cartoon. Fred didn’t really drive a diplodocus-powered shovel at the construction site. And I didn’t want to seem like a creationist loony, whatever that meant. I didn’t really believe that the earth was six thousand years old either; it had to be at least seven, I thought. So I asked, “How could a universe that doesn’t exist create itself?”
He looked at me like he thought maybe I wasn’t so bright—or maybe he thought I was just trying to be funny. Then he said “Let’s say you have all the necessary ingredients to make a seven-course meal, a stove, some electricity, a bunch of food, meats, vegetables, water, salt, pepper, you get the idea. After that, you have to just wait."
"Why do we have to wait?" I asked.
"Because it’s not going to cook itself!" he said.
I responded, “How long do we have to wait?”
He looked at me, paused and then wiped the sweat from his forehead. It seemed like he might be getting a little irritated at my questions, and then he slowly spoke, “Listen, kid, you’re starting to bother me!”
"But…I need to know how the universe is going to cook a meal….or whatever!” I responded.
“It’s all about time,” he said, “Given enough time, anything is possible!” Then he added, with just a hint of anger, “Don’t you get it! Time makes everything possible!”
I scratched my head, thought for a minute, and then hesitantly asked, “Yeah, but what’s time?”
“Damn!” he responded, “No one knows for sure exactly what time is, but if you have enough of it, it can bring dead things to life, change things into other things, like turtles into armadillos, alligators into whales, even turn a stove, some food and electricity into a seven-course meal, with all the trimmings, place settings, napkins, tablecloths, and whatever!"
“Wow! I said, I thought they called that God!”
“Nope” he said, “they call that evolution!”
Now, admittedly, the conversation didn’t really go like that—and it wasn’t really a conversation, it was more like an email, but to make it more dramatic we’ll call it a letter. After all, an email is really just an electronic letter. But, for now, we’ll imagine that it was like a correspondence between Lord Byron and somebody else famous like Shakespeare or The Duke of Earl. That way it’ll seem more meaningful.
In our actual correspondence I happened to suggest that some evolutionary scientists might be just a little dogmatic regarding evolutionary theory, not him, mind you, but some abstract scientist. He, however, didn’t see it that way and took me to mean that he was being dogmatic. He then accused me of being a creationist. Clearly for him, the term “creationist” was an insult, having used it in the pejorative sense, like calling someone a racist. I freely admit to being one, I mean a creationist, not a racist. I don’t, however, believe that the Bible should be taught in school any more than the Koran or the Tibetan Book of the Dead should. I don’t accept Genesis as a literal history of the world, replete with talking snakes and magic fruit. I read it for the very obvious allegory that it is—a brilliant allegory, I might add. I also believe that the “theory” of evolution should be taught in school (notice the parenthesis around the word theory) because it is the best existing scientific answer. That science, not theology, is the purview of educators. Try to imagine a world where your average school teacher was acting as a theologian, trying to unravel the mystery of the transubstantiation for little Timmy. If you want to see fighting at the local PTA.....well!
I think that the best evidence shows that the universe is probably thirteen billion years old, give or take a billion, and that evolution is a settled truth. That doesn’t mean that I think there is sufficient evidence to explain the development of life from a single, simple, life form to the incredible diversity and complexity that we see around us. That requires a leap of faith and logic that goes well beyond the existing evidence. When we look at that evidence objectively, what is actually known about life, or even about inanimate matter, we find that what knowledge we do posess is outweighed by a staggering complexity that we haven’t begun to figure out.
Posting God as an answer, for many scientists and even atheists, is only a problem when the Idea of God is given personal attributes. Richard Dawkins is willing to accept a deist vision of God, just as Aristotle, Einstein and Thomas Jefferson did. He’s even said that he accepts the possibility of life being seeded from outer space. Many scientists who completely reject “Intelligent Design,” a theory articulated by biochemist Michael Behe, are willing to accept the possibility of “Panspermia” as an answer for the beginning of life on earth.
In our actual correspondence I happened to suggest that some evolutionary scientists might be just a little dogmatic regarding evolutionary theory, not him, mind you, but some abstract scientist. He, however, didn’t see it that way and took me to mean that he was being dogmatic. He then accused me of being a creationist. Clearly for him, the term “creationist” was an insult, having used it in the pejorative sense, like calling someone a racist. I freely admit to being one, I mean a creationist, not a racist. I don’t, however, believe that the Bible should be taught in school any more than the Koran or the Tibetan Book of the Dead should. I don’t accept Genesis as a literal history of the world, replete with talking snakes and magic fruit. I read it for the very obvious allegory that it is—a brilliant allegory, I might add. I also believe that the “theory” of evolution should be taught in school (notice the parenthesis around the word theory) because it is the best existing scientific answer. That science, not theology, is the purview of educators. Try to imagine a world where your average school teacher was acting as a theologian, trying to unravel the mystery of the transubstantiation for little Timmy. If you want to see fighting at the local PTA.....well!
I think that the best evidence shows that the universe is probably thirteen billion years old, give or take a billion, and that evolution is a settled truth. That doesn’t mean that I think there is sufficient evidence to explain the development of life from a single, simple, life form to the incredible diversity and complexity that we see around us. That requires a leap of faith and logic that goes well beyond the existing evidence. When we look at that evidence objectively, what is actually known about life, or even about inanimate matter, we find that what knowledge we do posess is outweighed by a staggering complexity that we haven’t begun to figure out.
Posting God as an answer, for many scientists and even atheists, is only a problem when the Idea of God is given personal attributes. Richard Dawkins is willing to accept a deist vision of God, just as Aristotle, Einstein and Thomas Jefferson did. He’s even said that he accepts the possibility of life being seeded from outer space. Many scientists who completely reject “Intelligent Design,” a theory articulated by biochemist Michael Behe, are willing to accept the possibility of “Panspermia” as an answer for the beginning of life on earth.
Panspermia means that life in some very simple form was carried to earth on an asteroid or by some other means. It can also mean that life was seeded by a higher intelligence from outer space. Dawkins has said both are plausible. In the case of the latter it would mean that life was definitely the product of Intelligent Design, meaning that Behe's hypothesis is correct. Even though it has been thoroughly rejected by the overwhelming majority of scientists. Either way, it suggests that the current explanation for the origin of life is anything but settled. Space men, asteroids and deist gods are acceptable as possible causes—but an intelligent, pre-existent God as the cause, one that is actively involved in the universe, most definitely isn’t. That is a non-scientific, philosophical bias, however, and a very arbitrary one at that.
None of this proves or disproves the existence of God or the Bible—or that right-wing, Bible-thumping evangelicals are evil and intend to take over the world. Well, that last point is probably true, not the evil part, but the global takeover, certainly! Nor are evolutionists the spawns of Satan trying to undermine Jesus, hoping to turn children from their prayers—eager to pass some new legislation through a liberal congress, which will force every family to add a monkey or two to the family photo album.
In reality, the debate is about world views, politics and money. He that controls the debate and, therefore, the flow of information, will shape the public’s perception, and the winner will take all. This is true whether we’re talking about religious leaders or scientists. Both have an agenda and are sufficiently arrogant to think that being smart is the same thing as being wise, or that prominence and fortune equals substance. We’ve been here before, many times, in fact. Every generation or so, some charismatic leader comes along with what appears to be a new idea, eager to remake the world in their own image. We only have to go back to the first few chapters of The Book of Genesis, written more than four thousand years ago to see the same story being played out once again--and we all know how that turned out. Will we ever learn?—apparently not!
Mark Magula
None of this proves or disproves the existence of God or the Bible—or that right-wing, Bible-thumping evangelicals are evil and intend to take over the world. Well, that last point is probably true, not the evil part, but the global takeover, certainly! Nor are evolutionists the spawns of Satan trying to undermine Jesus, hoping to turn children from their prayers—eager to pass some new legislation through a liberal congress, which will force every family to add a monkey or two to the family photo album.
In reality, the debate is about world views, politics and money. He that controls the debate and, therefore, the flow of information, will shape the public’s perception, and the winner will take all. This is true whether we’re talking about religious leaders or scientists. Both have an agenda and are sufficiently arrogant to think that being smart is the same thing as being wise, or that prominence and fortune equals substance. We’ve been here before, many times, in fact. Every generation or so, some charismatic leader comes along with what appears to be a new idea, eager to remake the world in their own image. We only have to go back to the first few chapters of The Book of Genesis, written more than four thousand years ago to see the same story being played out once again--and we all know how that turned out. Will we ever learn?—apparently not!
Mark Magula
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