Intelligible Design and Darwin’s
Black Box
By John Médaille
(Copied from the Remnant)
The one thing that modern science
should be able to do is to explain to us how things
happen. The one thing it cannot do is tell us that
things happen by chance. Things may well happen by
chance, but then there is no chance of a scientific
explanation. “Chance” is the
methodology of Darwinian account of evolution, which can
only mean that it doesn’t actually account for anything.
A convinced Darwinist might respond, “It is not just
chance, but chance mutations measured against their survival
value; it is the struggle for survival which makes chance
mutations work.” But this merely introduces a factor
which Darwinists make no attempt to explain, namely, the
will of the organism to live. That organisms have such
a will is self-evident, but can such a will really be the
result of chance mutations? After all, we never speak of
the rock’s struggle for survival, but if rocks and
plants are just different configurations of matter, where
does such a will come from? Here we see the biological
form of Heidegger’s great question, “Why
should things want to be rather than not be?”
This self-evident “will to live” introduces
an insurmountable problem for the Darwinist, for such a
will must be present at the very beginning of life for
the theory to work at all. Without it, no species has any
reason to adapt, or any individual any reason to survive.
But this “will” must precede evolution, and
hence cannot be explained by it. It might have been plausible,
in the naïve days of the 19th century, to speak of
the ascent of higher forms of life from lower forms, of
a movement from the simple to the complex. But that is
no longer possible for the simple reason that we cannot
find a “simple” form of life. The smallest
one-celled animal is irreducibly and unimaginably complex.
The single-cell already contains an information storage
and retrieval system which cannot, as yet, be duplicated
by human means. And it also contains a construction system
of astounding complexity, able to translate information
into acids and complex structures, and the cell itself
is a collection of complex and cooperating structures.
The scale of information is astounding; an amoeba dubia
has 670 billion base-pairs (bits) in its genetic material;
the human, by comparison, has 2.9 billion.
But this is just the beginning of the complexity, since
not only is each cell complex in itself, but lives in
a complex set of relationships with other cells and other
species. There are simply no “simple” life
forms with which we may locate a simple “beginning.” Indeed,
the distance between “nothing” and amoeba is
far greater than the distance between amoeba and man. This
is to say, evolution is mostly complete by the time it
starts. The heroic efforts to explain all this within the “black-box” of
chance mutations seems more like an act of faith than
a conclusion of science.
If the Darwinists cannot provide us with a scientific
answer, should we turn to the theory of “Intelligent Design”?
For the one thing that everybody can agree on is that the
design is very intelligent indeed. But does it really do
us any good, for our understanding of God’s universe,
to replace the black box of chance with one marked “miracles”?
The whole point of having a rational God—a god who
is also logos—is that His universe is not only intelligent
but intelligible; man, made in the image and likeness of
this logos-God, is always able to understand more and more
of God’s work. Indeed, coming to an understanding
of this is man’s work; our task is not merely to
put the right label on the black box, but to open the box
and see what’s inside. What is needed is a theory
not of intelligent design, but intelligible design. We
already know that, as final cause, God did it; the trick
is to see how he does it.
But if we cannot turn to Darwin to open the black box,
and if Intelligent Design merely re-labels the box, where
are we to turn for a scientific explanation? This is the
question that Thomas Nagel explores in Mind and Cosmos:
Why the Materialist Neo-Darwinian Conception of Nature
Is Almost Certainly False. It is important to realize that
Prof. Nagel is a philosopher with impeccably atheist credentials.
But while he has no belief in God, he has a belief in fairness:
Even if one is not drawn to the alternative
of an explanation by the actions of a designer, the problems
that these iconoclasts pose for the orthodox scientific
consensus should be taken seriously. They do not deserve
the scorn with which they are commonly met. It is manifestly
unfair.(p. 10)
The essential difficulty that Nagel poses to the
Darwinist is the problem of mind: consciousness,
cognition, and values. If the Darwinist account of
nature is correct, these things must be reducible
to physical matter. The problem with such reductionism
is that the more we know of mind, the less material
it seems. And if mind is more than matter, then biology
must be more than materialism. But we can go further.
If the universe is intelligible, than matter itself
must be more than material. But what substance can
we give to this “more than”?
Modern science, if it is to be scientific, must insist
that the universe is intelligible. But this intelligibility
is hard to explain, and indeed it isn’t explained;
it is accepted as a matter of faith. For Nagel, theism
refers intelligibility to something external, namely the
will of God, but this prevents any understanding of the
world on its own terms. He judges the “interventionist” accounts
of evolutionary order to be a denial that there is a
comprehensive natural order.
The Darwinist account, on the other hand, can give us
an explanation of the intelligibility of the universe,
but only at the cost of undermining our confidence in
that explanation. For example,
[A]n evolutionary self-understanding
would almost certainly require us to give up moral
realism— the
natural conviction that our moral judgments are true
or false independent of our beliefs. Evolutionary naturalism
implies that we shouldn’t take any of our
convictions seriously, including the scientific
world picture on which evolutionary naturalism
itself depends.(p. 28)
This is to say, if our thoughts are merely the result
of a particular electro-chemical state of the brain,
what assurance do we have that these contingent states
actually reflect the actual world? No answer, from within
a purely material science, can satisfy the radical skeptic.
Nagel takes us, in great detail, through the problems
of trying to explain consciousness, cognition, and values
in materialistic, evolutionary terms. At each level,
the problems for materialist explanations grow exponentially.
All explanations of the mental have to be either reductive
or emergent. A reductive account will explain the mental
character of complex organisms entirely in terms of the
properties of their elementary constituents. An emergent
account will explain the mental in terms of the higher-level
physical functioning of the central nervous system, or
structure like it. Both have problems. The reductive
account must posit some as yet unknown “proto-mental” characteristics
in the particles that make up the universe. But the emergent
account, aside from undermining our confidence in any
mental constructs, places an unbearable burden on evolutionary
theory itself. At no stage in the emergence of the purely
mental can Darwinism give us an account that is in any
way probable; it can only assert the brute fact that
consciousness does exist and then by brute force exclude
any but a materialist explanation.
As an alternative to either the materialist or the interventionist
theories, Nagel proposes a teleological property to the
universe.
A teleological account will hold that in
addition to the laws governing the behavior of the elements
in every circumstance, there are also principles of self-organization
or of the development of complexity over time that are
not explained by those elemental laws.(p. 59)
Nagel realizes that such an account will meet the
same opposition as does Intelligent Design.
I realize that such doubts will strike
many people as outrageous, but that is because almost
everyone in our secular culture has been browbeaten into
regarding the reductive research program as sacrosanct,
on the ground that anything else would not be science.(p.
7)
For this teleological principle to work, the universe
must contain, in addition to the familiar physical laws,
laws that are “biased towards the marvelous,(p.
92)” since
the very appearance of any kind of life is marvelous. While
Darwinian evolution depends on a long series of accidents,
Nagel’s theory posits that each successive stage
of evolution must have a higher probability toward certain
outcomes, namely the production of beings that are capable
of understanding themselves and the universe.(p 93) Man
is thus the product of the universe’s drive to
self-understanding.
The Darwinists, I suspect, will have as much respect
for Nagel’s teleology as they do for Intelligent Design’s
interventionism. I doubt if they will make a serious attempt
to respond to his critiques; their efforts will be the
same as with the Intelligent Design theory: to simply exclude
it from the debate. But leaving aside the Darwinists, there
are two critiques of this theory that occur to me. The
first arises from the difficulty of positing an “atheistic” teleology.
Teleology is an Aristotelian idea that things have a
natural purpose and direction; an idea bound up with
intentionality, and intentionality is a quality of rational
beings. To propose that things have a purpose without
intention, that is, without a being who intends this
purpose, is rather a stretch, and Nagel himself recognizes
the problem.
The second problem is that Nagel seems to believe that
there is some unified set of beliefs called “theism.” In
fact nothing of the kind exists. The various “theisms” are
as different from each other as they are from atheism.
Hence, there is no “theism” that may be opposed
to scientific rationality. On the contrary, the very notion
of an intelligible universe, the foundation of science,
is an artifact of science’s
Christian roots in the Middle Ages; a rational God creates
a rational universe, one that rational creatures may
understand.
Note that while this is the stance of Christianity, it
is not the stance of religions in general. For most religions,
the world depends entirely on the will of Heaven; it
rains because God, or some god, wills it to rain; no
further explanation is required, and perhaps not possible.
The Christian retains the idea of God as the final cause
of the rain, but insists that there are intelligible
formal, instrumental, and material causes as well, and
that these causes can, in principle, be known. This goes
a long way towards explaining why science developed in
the West, even though the East had great engineers, astronomers,
and mathematicians while Europe was still a collection
of mud huts. For the medieval scientist, knowledge of
the world was knowledge of the world’s God. But after the “Enlightenment” (so-called),
knowledge of the natural world would make god unnecessary.
He would be confined to the gaps in our knowledge, and
as our knowledge expanded, God would be squeezed out.
This implies that science is, eventually, a theory of
everything. Science is constantly on the verge of this
theory, but never quite gets there. Indeed, just as they
are about to grasp it all, it all slips away. For example,
in the 1890’s Lord Kelvin, the most prominent physicist
of his day, predicted that physics was about to become
a complete theory, with only a few minor problems to be
solved, those associated with heat and radiation. Of course,
these “minor problems” became quantum mechanics.
We are on the verge of another “Theory of Everything,” which
I suspect will lead, as it always does, to a new starting
point for new realms of science.
The Christian is not surprised by this, since science
is an exploration of the infinite work of an infinite
God. There is no final point, no complete theory. Rather,
the world will always reveal new wonders for those who
gaze at it in wonder. We have no method, at present,
of detecting Nagel’s teleological principles in matter. But then,
we had no way of detecting the quanta before we looked
for it. It is the right question that brings the right
answer. If—as I suspect—Nagel is proposing
the right questions, we will find this teleological bias
in the laws of nature. And if the proponents of Intelligent
Design are at all intelligent, they will adopt this proposal
as their own, and not be content with a black box labeled “miracles,” any
more than they are content with Darwin’s black
box.