A Question of Randomness or Design?
Some believe
that everything we see in the Universe, including living creatures, was created
by chance; for example, they believe that the raw materials or organic
molecules from which the first living cell originated came into existence due
to appropriate conditions occurring all at once by chance, resulting in the
first living organisms that lived beneath the surface of the water. Then these
first marine plant organisms evolved, giving rise to aquatic organisms with all
their complexities and adapting to their surroundings. They then moved (by
chance) to land and adapted to its climate as amphibians first, then as
reptiles, and a branch of reptiles became birds, and a branch of birds became
mammals, until we finally reached man (by chance), who is the centerpiece of
nature's creativity.
We have to
consider that any transition from a reptile-like animal to a mammal would
necessitate the development of entirely new organ systems. Transforming the
reproductive system, for example, requires the development of completely new
organs such as the uterus, placenta, and mammary glands in addition to changing
where the eggs grow. Some scientists question the creative power of natural
selection and random mutations.
The origin of
wings is a classic example that paleontologists and biologists have studied.
There is no evidence of their evolutionary origins in the fossil record.
Wingless insects are fossils found directly beneath (i.e., more ancient than)
flying insects. Wings appear suddenly, fully developed, and quite large,
reaching a span of 30 centimeters.
The human brain is the wild card. This galactic complexity organ defies
all previous biological paradigms. Even if my actions are entirely physical,
any unchangeable fate is buried beneath so many layers of complexity and, at
the very least, the persistent illusion of agency that, for the time being, I
am as unpredictable as if I had true free will. Because of this complexity, the
emergence of social humans was a world-changing innovation.
As a species, we are endowed with a natural curiosity about the world
and our place in it. We want to know - no, we need to know - how we got to be
who we are and what our future holds.
Scientists are not immune to fads. A few years ago, the fad was to
emphasize the similarities between humans and chimpanzees. Robin Dunbar
(University of Liverpool), reviewing a book stressing the vast differences
between humans and chimps, writes: ‘Notwithstanding the enthusiasm in the 1970s
and 1980s for the similarities between humans and our primate cousins, both in
popular culture and among academics, the fact is that humans are very different
from even our ape sister species.’
Claims of a close relationship between humans and chimpanzees based on
genes are becoming more and more absurd. The mouse genome was sequenced in late
2002.
Both humans and mice have about 30,000 genes. An editorial in New
Scientist states, ‘What’s the difference between Stuart Little and William
Shakespeare? Answer (to a very rough approximation): about 300 genes.’ Alison
Abbott, writing in Nature, adds “The two genomes, it turns out, are remarkably
similar: 99% of mouse genes have a direct human counterpart.”
The next time your friendly neighbourhood evolutionists claim that you
are closely related to a chimpanzee, tell him that he is more closely related
to a mouse.
At its core, the power of choice is the ability to redirect the course
of events. The entire realm of human artifacts—cities and buildings, technology
and computers, books and films—eloquently testifies to humanity’s capacity to
harness natural forces to create things that nature, acting alone, would not
produce.
Life is a phenomenon associated with a vast society of specialized
molecules, millions of them, cooperating in surprising and novel ways. No
single molecule carries the spark of life; no chain of atoms alone constitutes
an organism. Even DNA, the biological super molecule, is not alive. Isolated
from a living cell, DNA would be inert, unable to perform its familiar role.
Only within the context of a highly specific molecular environment does a given
molecule play its part in life. To function properly, DNA must be part of a
large team, with each molecule executing its assigned task in concert with
others. Recognizing the interdependent capabilities of the component molecules
within a living organism presents a profound philosophical puzzle: if
everything depends on everything else, how did this community of molecules
arise in the first place?
Purposeful design becomes evident when one examines the respiratory
system. From the moment we inhale to the moment we exhale, every aspect of
respiration is controlled, monitored, and adjusted on a
microsecond-to-microsecond basis. With rare exceptions, our bodies intuitively
understand our needs and constantly adjust bodily functions. If this process
were not automatic, our first night’s sleep would be fatal.
Proponents of evolution point to clots causing heart attacks and strokes
as flaws, suggesting a lack of design. However, it remains uncertain whether
factors such as diet, stress, and lifestyle are truly responsible.
The evolution of organisms towards greater fitness does not negate the
intelligent and miraculous design behind this development. On the contrary, we
often marvel at the complex design of some lower organisms, such as certain
bacteria, which exhibit more complexity than more developed organisms. This
seemingly contradicts known evolutionary principles. For example, some bacteria
use a structure resembling a whip to navigate through liquid environments. This
whip connects to the cell membrane and allows the bacteria to determine
direction and speed on demand.
Scientists have long known about the bacterial flagellum, but its
detailed structure, revealed about a decade ago, surprised many. They
discovered that the flagellum operates through a highly complex "organic
motor," akin to an electric motor with a fixed stator and a rotor, rather
than a simple seismic mechanism.
The flagellum generates mechanical movement independently of the
chemical energy stored in cells, driven by ions flowing through the outer cell
membranes. Approximately 240 different proteins are involved in its
construction, each precisely positioned within the cell membrane. These
proteins facilitate movement at an atomic level, highlighting the system's
complexity. Any disruption or loss of even a small part would render the
flagellum nonfunctional, contradicting the evolutionary principle of gradual
development.
The flagellum's intricate design includes a motor capable of rotating at
speeds up to 100,000 rpm, far exceeding that of a car engine. This motor can
self-assemble, produce its own energy, reorganize if malfunctioning, and
control its speed and direction. It is a true nano-machine, displaying
remarkable complexity and efficiency.
The Bacterial Flagellum requires over 50
different, separate protein parts for operation.
In summary, the bacterial flagellum is a sophisticated macromolecular
machine that self-assembles, repairs itself, operates with two gears, and is
powered by proton motive force. It is connected to a sensory apparatus that
functions with short-term memory, allowing for precise movement and adaptation[1].
A true watchmaker thinks ahead: he designs his cogs and springs, as well as
their interconnections, with a future purpose in mind. Natural selection, the
blind, unconscious, automatic process discovered by Charles Darwin and now
known to be the explanation for the existence and apparently purposeful form of
all life, serves no purpose. It lacks both a mind and an eye. It makes no
provision for the future. It lacks vision, foresight, and all sight.
Intelligent design is compatible with creationist and evolutionist ideas of
new organisms arising from old by a process of generation, but what separates
it from naturalistic evolution is what was responsible for their evolution.
Intelligent design holds that material mechanisms are limited and that any
substantial evolutionary change requires input from a designing intelligence.
Designing intelligence can make a difference regardless of how organisms
emerged.
According to the research data, an astronomical body capable of supporting
and equipping humans to launch and sustain a global high-technology
civilization requires at least 10^700 times more fine-tuning precision than is
required for the support of ephemeral simple life. To put this number (10^700)
in context, the total number of protons and neutrons in the observable Universe
is 10^79.
Many design patterns can be found in DNA and the cell's
information-processing system. At the most basic level, the way DNA and its
information-processing machinery encode and process digital information
represents a solution to a general design problem: how to store information and
transmit it across a communication channel to produce a functional result.
DNA is the blueprint, instruction manual, repair manual, and instructions
for replicating itself and everything it codes for. In computer terms, DNA is
the software because it carries information but cannot act on it. Proteins are
analogous to computer hardware, requiring DNA software to provide information
about when and where specific chemical changes should occur in time and space,
as well as to produce material required for life.
The information storage density of DNA is many times that of our most
advanced silicon chips.
Scientists realized that DNA is only one component of a complex system for
expressing and processing information as they learned more about how the cell
uses the information in DNA to build proteins.
DNA is made up of chemical sequences that function similarly to digital or
alphabetic characters: it contains functionally specified information. As
scientists became aware of this, they understandably became skeptical of chance
as an explanation for the origin of biological information.
The probability of producing the proteins necessary to build a minimally
complex cell--or the genetic information necessary to produce those
proteins--by chance is unimaginably small.
Nonetheless, we will consider evolutionary biology to be a field of
argument for and against random evolution, so instead of delving into more
biological details, we will play a little math game that no two sane people can
disagree on, because mathematics is, after all, the field of reason and logic.
The concept of coincidence or the likelihood of events occurring in
succession or in a specific order fall under a branch of mathematics known as
probability theory, which studies the probability of random events. To
illustrate probability practically, consider a bag containing ten balls
numbered sequentially from 1 to 10. We ask a blindfolded person to draw these
balls in numerical order, returning each drawn ball to the bag to maintain a
constant number of ten balls. The chance of drawing the first ball correctly is
simply one in ten. What is the chance of drawing the number 2 ball the second
time? After returning the first ball to the bag, the probability of picking
ball number 2 remains 1/10. However, the combined probability of drawing both
balls correctly is 1/10 * 1/10.
Continuing this process, the probability of drawing each subsequent ball
correctly is 1/10, resulting in an overall probability of:
\Left (\frac {1}{10} \right) ^ {10} = 0.0000000001
This equates to a chance of 1 in 10 billion, or 0.000000001%, for
drawing the tenth ball correctly. As more balls are correctly withdrawn, the
likelihood of the next correct draw decreases by a factor of ten, yet there
remains a chance to draw even the tenth ball in the desired order.
To further complicate matters, imagine a monkey randomly striking keys
on a typewriter. Let us calculate the probability that the monkey types the
following excerpt from a Shakespearean poem:
From fairest creatures we desire increase, 41
That thereby beauty’s rose might never die. 42
The numbers next to each line represent the total number of letters and
spaces between words, requiring precise keystrokes to achieve the desired text.
The total number of characters needed to form these two lines, including
spaces, is 83. For simplicity, we will disregard the movement required to
transition between lines and punctuation, excusing any related errors by the
monkey.
Let us commence the experiment: after every 83 keystrokes, we will
examine the typed paper to see if the monkey has, by chance, produced the poem.
If not, we will return the paper and allow the experiment to continue.
A simple calculation reveals that the probability of the monkey
successfully typing the poem in the correct sequence involves the 26 letters of
the English alphabet plus one for the space. We will assume the monkey has
access to a 28-character keyboard, including a space key, excluding other
complexities that might reduce its chances of success.
The probability of success in this experiment is one divided by 27
raised to the power of 83. This number is extraordinarily small, approximately
equivalent to one divided by \ (6.4 \times 10^{118}\).
What does this number imply for the time required for a monkey to type
the poem?
Assuming the monkey makes 100 typewriter strikes per minute continuously
for 24 hours (a fast typist averages about 60 words per minute), and we replace
the monkey whenever it tires, we can calculate the following: If we divide the
number of attempts needed for a chance of success (\ (27^ {83} \)) by the
number of attempts per year, the result is approximately \ (10^ {111} \).
How many billion years does this equate to?
Dividing \ (10^ {111} \) by \(10^9\) yields \(10^{102}\), or nearly 102
billion years (noting that the rounding is a decrease, not an increase).
However, these calculations are purely theoretical. Scientists estimate
the Earth's age to be around 5 billion years, which is far too short for this
figure. According to the latest studies, the Universe is only 13.8 billion
years old, a minuscule number compared to the time required for a monkey to
complete its attempts and achieve a single chance of typing a two-line poem
excerpt.
Given that the human brain contains approximately 10 billion neurons,
each tasked with receiving information and issuing commands to the body's 10
trillion living cells, can we fathom the possibility of creating even one human
being by chance, let alone billions?
Could we finally agree that the world, with all its intricate details
and complexities, could not have been created by chance?
Reflecting on the
absence of absurdity in creation, the brilliant scientist Albert Einstein once
remarked, “I do not believe that God plays dice.”
This sentiment finds
resonance in the Holy Quran, Surah Ad-Dukhan (44), Verses 38 and 39:
“And We did not create the heavens and the earth and all that is
between them in play. We have not created them except for a true purpose, but
most of them do not know.”
[1] . TANKESHWAR ACHARYA,
Bacterial Flagella: Structure, importance and examples of flagellated bacteria,
Microbe Online, APRIL 28, 2013.
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