Time Immortal

The Deeps of Time nails one out of the park:

What happens when you discover that that the universe is improbably fine-tuned for life? If the conclusion that God may have had something to do with it is too much to swallow, you propose a wild scenario without any empirical evidence which says, essentially, that we happened because everything “happens.” That’s science. Scientists don’t often like to admit that they, too, operate with philosophical and religious pre-assumptions, but Discover lets the cat out of the bag and reports on the anti-theistic motivation behind the multiverse theory…

This is in response to this article at Discover magazine, which notes:

Consider just two possible changes. Atoms consist of protons, neutrons, and electrons. If those protons were just 0.2 percent more massive than they actually are, they would be unstable and would decay into simpler particles. Atoms wouldn’t exist; neither would we. If gravity were slightly more powerful, the consequences would be nearly as grave. A beefed-up gravitational force would compress stars more tightly, making them smaller, hotter, and denser. Rather than surviving for billions of years, stars would burn through their fuel in a few million years, sputtering out long before life had a chance to evolve. There are many such examples of the universe’s life-friendly properties—so many, in fact, that physicists can’t dismiss them all as mere accidents.

“We have a lot of really, really strange coincidences, and all of these coincidences are such that they make life possible,” Linde says.

Physicists don’t like coincidences. They like even less the notion that life is somehow central to the universe, and yet recent discoveries are forcing them to confront that very idea. Life, it seems, is not an incidental component of the universe, burped up out of a random chemical brew on a lonely planet to endure for a few fleeting ticks of the cosmic clock. In some strange sense, it appears that we are not adapted to the universe; the universe is adapted to us.

Call it a fluke, a mystery, a miracle. Or call it the biggest problem in physics. Short of invoking a benevolent creator, many physicists see only one possible explanation: Our universe may be but one of perhaps infinitely many universes in an inconceivably vast multi­verse. Most of those universes are barren, but some, like ours, have conditions suitable for life.

The idea is controversial. Critics say it doesn’t even qualify as a scientific theory because the existence of other universes cannot be proved or disproved. Advocates argue that, like it or not, the multiverse may well be the only viable non­religious explanation for what is often called the “fine-tuning problem” — the baffling observation that the laws of the universe seem custom-tailored to favor the emergence of life.

“For me the reality of many universes is a logical possibility,” [Andrei Linde] says. “You might say, ‘Maybe this is some mysterious coincidence. Maybe God created the universe for our benefit.’ Well, I don’t know about God, but the universe itself might reproduce itself eternally in all its possible manifestations.”

What is of course immediately apparent is the rush to push God back out of the picture again, according to a false dichotomy that people on both sides of the religious/non-religious divide have built up. The assumption that faith in something beyond the merely empirical, especially faith expressed through a formal Religion, must be in conflict with science is a deeply-embedded prejudice for many people. But let us be clear: it is nothing more than a prejudice, and then a highly erroneous one.

To be fair, Linde could be correct: maybe there are an infinite number of universes, and ours is just the one that happened, by some fluke, to end up with all the necessary ducks in a row so that life could emerge in it.

But the article notes the key problem with the multiverse theory: there’s no way to prove it; it’s a faith claim, rather than a scientific conjecture. And its principle purpose is, as The Deeps of Time notes, anti-theistic in nature: it’s the only other suggestion, apart from the notion of some form of intelligent designer, that explains the exceedingly tight fine-tuning that is evident in the cosmos. And in a sense, it’s an extension of the tired argument that the likes of Richard Dawkins so often advance: that apparent design is just an illusion.

That argument will get you published, perhaps, but at some point it begins to wear thin. It might be useful when discussing e.g. how what we see with our eyes (the beauty of flowers and sunsets, the intricacy of the body and brain, etc.) seems to have an immense amount of thought put into its composition and operation. But when we’re talking about physical properties of the Universe, we’re not talking about things which we can perceive naturally (e.g. without the assistance of considerable amounts of technology and calculation). So even if we’ve evolved to think of a delicate flower as being something intricately designed, there’s no way we could have evolved to think of e.g. the fine structure constant as being similarly designed.

And yet, there is is, staring us in the face: the Universe we know is built upon a series of physical constants of exacting precision, and we would not exist had even one of these constants been even marginally more or less than it is.

Design is everywhere: we see it in the day-to-day operation of the world, in plants, animals, and our fellow human beings. And at the same time, design is there too in places we cannot see, in the very blueprints of creation itself.

Parsimony alone would suggest that at some point, what appears to be design should probably be considered to be design, especially when the very fabric of our existence seems to have been put in place with the emergence of life in mind. Suggesting otherwise — by, say, proposing a vast and unprovable myriad of barren alternate Universes — is as rational as suggesting that the world is merely 6,000 years old. Moreover, such a suggestion, though cloaked in the language and manner of science, is not a scientific suggestion at all. It is, as previously noted, a faith claim, and then a rather desperate one.

I was reading something that Babylon 5 creator Joseph Michael Straczynski said in regard to forgiveness. He was talking, specifically, about an episode of the series that dealt directly with the Catholic concept of atonement, and with forgiveness, and was commenting on how he had enjoyed writing something that he, himself, was so very much at odds with.

His being an atheist, Straczynski explains, means that he cannot believe in forgiveness, and cannot offer it.

And I have lost people. Too many people. Lost them to chance, violence, brutality beyond belief; I’ve seen all the senseless, ignoble acts of “God’s noblest creature.” And I am incapable of forgiving. My feelings are with G’Kar, hand sliced open, saying of the drops of blood flowing from that open wound, “How do you apologize to them?” “I can’t.” “Then I cannot forgive.”

As an atheist, I believe that all life is unspeakably precious, because it’s only here for a brief moment, a flare against the dark, and then it’s gone forever. No afterlives, no second chances, no backsies. So there can be nothing crueler than the abuse, destruction or wanton taking of a life. It is a crime no less than burning the Mona Lisa, for there is always just one of each.

So I cannot forgive. Which makes the notion of writing a character who CAN forgive momentarily attractive…because it allows me to explore in great detail something of which I am utterly incapable. I cannot fly, so I would write of birds and starships and kites; I cannot play an instrument, so I would write of composers and dancers; and I cannot forgive, so I would write of priests and monks and Minbari….

I read this yesterday, and it instantly drew to mind a previous response I had given to Nicholas, who had asked for examples of “sanctifying grace” that could not be explained away by attribution to natural causes. Leaving aside the fallacy inherent in the question, my answer, now as it was then, is that the act of forgiveness is an example of manifest grace that cannot logically be attributed to natural phenomena.

I would posit that the act of genuine forgiveness — and its being regarded as a good thing — cannot always be attributed to natural causes, for the simple reason that forgiveness in its most genuine form does not involve “forgive, but do not forget.” It is more complete than that, requiring us to both grant that we absolve the person who has wronged us and that we will not in any way hold it against them; in any future dealings with them, we will not anticipate the possibility of a repeated transgression.

I think the reasons this is counter-intuitive to nature should be obvious: the instinct to survive should motivate a person to either never forgive a transgression or to forgive the transgression but to treat the transgressor with hesitance in any future encounters.

And indeed, I can observe in my own life that there does seem to be a spectrum at work in people; I’ve noticed, both in my own family and in my wider circle of friends and acquaintences, that the degree to which a person is secular correlates directly to the degree to which they are willing to offer forgiveness to others for wrongs done against them. Certainly, JMS (above) reflects this in his own views which, while incorrect, do have the virtue of consistency.

Complete forgiveness means allowing oneself to again become totally open, and thus vulnerable, to the other, and to a repeat offence. In a purely materialistic/naturalistic framework, since vulnerability is something most human beings naturally attempt to avoid displaying, forgiveness should be non-existent.

And yet, people offer forgiveness in this way quite often. Not always, of course, but often. And to do so, I think, puts a human being far outside of his or her nature. A nun, shot in the back, falls to the ground uttering her last words: “I forgive, I forgive.” A Pope makes a point of visiting in prison the man who attempted to murder him, and offers him his complete forgiveness. A man, nailed to a Cross, begs that the crowd of his murderers be forgiven, for they did not know then the full magnitude of their actions. That’s about as contrary to “natural causes” as one can get.

This was on display again recently, given evidence by Sister Marie Curran in her testimony against the young man who, three years earlier, shoved her to the ground and stole her purse.

Yes, it’s a small example, but the actions of the good nun are telling.

Sister Muriel Curran faced the man who shoved her to the ground and ripped away her purse three years ago. She quoted Scripture. She thanked him for the guilty plea that spared her a trial. And she asked a Baltimore County judge not to send him to prison.

“There is possibility and hope — I believe in it, it’s what I’m about — in rehabilitation and a future,” the 78-year-old nun said yesterday, explaining that she has difficulty believing in a penal system that sometimes leaves criminals worse off than before they went to prison. “I’ve taught too many boys in my life not to believe that growth and change can take place.”

Police officers waiting for other cases listened in astonishment.

The defendant’s aunt and grandmother wept openly. Even strangers sitting in the courtroom sat spellbound and dabbed at their eyes. The veteran prosecutor handling the case fought back tears and later characterized the scene as “the single most profound thing I have ever heard in a courtroom.” And the convicted robber, Charles R. Dodson, 22, hung his bald and tattooed head as he tearfully offered apologies and begged for the forgiveness that the nun had already granted.

Ommitted from the above are the details of the injuries suffered by Sister Curran: five ribs broken, torn rotator cuff, bruises to her face and arm, and a gash above her eye — one of her arms no longer has its full range of motion, and she cannot live alone. And yet, faced with the man who shoved her — then a 75-year old woman — to the ground and impacted her life thusly, she hurried only to offer her complete forgiveness. One is sure that, were she to meet Dobson in the future, she would not do so with any hesitance or reservation — her forgiveness of him was complete.

That is spectacularly contrary to nature.

And indeed, the good Sister attributed her actions solely to the Gospel:

Reading from a card, Sister Curran quoted a letter in the Bible from the Prophet Jeremiah: “For I know well the plans I have in mind for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare, not for woe! plans to give you a future full of hope.” Turning to face Dodson, she said, “That is my hope for you, Charles. I would like to give that to you.”

She reached out to hand him the card. She then extended her arm again. And although the sheriff’s deputies assigned to the county’s courtrooms usually prevent anyone other than defense attorneys from touching a defendant, no one interfered as the snowy-haired nun in the navy suit and white blouse shook the hand of the tattooed man in a dirty white T-shirt who had robbed her three years earlier.

As a living witness to the Gospel and to Jesus, one would strive mightily to do better than Sister Curran. Christ came to bring forgiveness from sin, and bade us all to forgive one another as well. It is ludicrously hard to live up to that ideal, in no small part because it contravenes the natural inclination of the human heart to do so. And yet, people do forgive.

And out of that forgiveness springs all manner of incredible results, results that in many respects defy explanation. Were atheists truly correct in their assertions of God’s non-existence, one would think that the act of offering forgivness wouldn’t have anywhere near the power it would. That it does have that power should, I think, tell us something profound.

Update: Welcome, WebElf and Father Hosea readers!

Robagne writes in with a question about Morality in relation to the theory of evolution. I can only assume he’s referring to one of the articles in my ongoing discussion with Nicholas, but I’m not going to speculate as to a specific one; his question stands alone, on its own merits, quite handily.

Agreed, Dawkins is too harsh for my liking…

I would like to ask however — what is the problem of one who believes in evolution to also believe in morals, even in God?

Evolutionary theory, like any other scientific theory is simply asserting that the universe is operating according to laws of universal application.

For me, it is amazing to think that God, in his supreme wisdom, can create life and humankind simply through the enaction of universal laws.

I have no problem in believing that while humankind has humble origins (i.e. we were once the beasts of the fields) we have now evolved into something capable of receiving God’s moralizing teachings.

The good Reader should know that I have no problem “believing” in evolution — in fact, I very readily accept the theory, in the understanding that truth (i.e. that humanity evolved) cannot contradict truth (i.e. that God created humanity and, indeed, all the Universe and its contents).

So to answer the first of Robagne’s questions is fairly straightforward: there is no problem for one to believe in both evolution and morals, nor is there a problem for one to believe in evolution and God. Your good blogger certainly believes in all three!

Robagne is exactly right in observing that evolutionary theory, like all other scientific theories, exists merely to explain the operation of the universe according to a set of (more or less) empirically determinable laws. It and other theories do not — can not — have a metaphysical component, and tell us nothing about whether any external factor influenced or influences (in the sense of an ongoing act) the function of the Universe. They can not — and do not, save when abused by those with an agenda — tell us about God, His nature, or His existence.

And indeed, God has created this magnificent Universe in which we live in part through the “enaction of universal laws.” But then, it is good that there are fixed laws, because such frameworks are necessary that another gift of God’s — the gift of free will — might be fully realized. Moreover, it is very like God to do things in this way, since His whole intent has been to approach humanity in a very incarnational, very personal way. Indeed, we see this in how he enacts his plan for our salvation through the Church.

…although the idea that an inbound meteorite might have catalyzed the eventual “dominance” of so-called “left-handed” amino acids (a pre-requisite for the evolution of life on Earth) is, if nothing else, interesting.

I could do without the metaphysical leap at the end of the article, though:

“This work is related to the probability that there is life somewhere else,” said Breslow. “Everything that is going on on Earth occurred because the meteorites happened to land here. But they are obviously landing in other places. If there is another planet that has the water and all of the things that are needed for life, you should be able to get the same process rolling.”

I suppose its entirely possible that meteor impacts had the effect that Ronald Breslow (Ph.D., Columbia University) and his team is proposing, and if so it is certainly a most interesting path by which some of the necessary pre-conditions for the emergence of life on Earth were set up. Of course, if it did happen that way, it doesn’t really tell us all that much about the probability of life anywhere else in the galaxy, or the Universe (I’ve said before that in articles such as this, the discussion tends to jump all too quickly to the issue of alien life) — the meteor and the amino acids it brought with it would still have had to land on a planet that had all the other pre-requisites for life already in place (i.e. a certain climate, water, ample light but controlled exposure to harsher radiation spectra, etc.). For all we know there is a scarcity of planets on which such conditions arose (we also lack any assurance that such conditions would persist; for all we know, there may be a very tiny window in a planet’s evolutionary cycle in which the potential for the emergence of life exists).

But as I said, the article ends with Breslow making a bit of a metaphysical leap in claiming that the meteor just “happened to land here.” That’s certainly one interpretation, but an equally valid interpretation would be to observe the somewhat poetic metaphor that exists in the meteor “touching” down on Earth, kindling the first necessary reactions that brought about life on this world (think: finger of God). Either way, it’s a metaphysical leap, not a scientific statement, and seems out of place in the article as a whole.

Slowly, scientists are beginning to piece together some of the details about what processes were involved in the emergence of life on Earth. Of course, that’s a far cry from actually understanding how non-living material — even complex proteins — somehow made the jump to being somehow “alive” — that’s something we’ll probably never really know how to explain fully. Well…not without consulting Scripture, at least. And even then.

The basic idea has been recognized for over a century, but the work of Stanley Miller was cited for triggering the modern era of scientific work on the topic. Since the classic Miller-Urey experiments, science has steadily expanded the range of essential molecules that can be produced under conditions that might reasonably expected to have been present on the early Earth.

Ellington emphasized that progress has been slow — we knew how cyanide could react to form the DNA component adenine in the 1960s, but it took over three decades to recognize that a few more reactions converted it to its relative, guanine. And the roadblocks continue to fall. After all attempts to produce sugars created a tar-like sludge, someone eventually found that a small amount of borate could help ethanol form large amounts of ribose, another component of RNA.

The first molecules that could replicate led directly to modern life

With the components of nucleic acids in place, Ellington traced a path through the RNA world to a molecule that could self-replicate. Past attempts to jump to a complex, self-replicating RNA molecule seem to have been on the wrong track. Short palindromic RNA sequences can apparently help catalyze the formation of complementary sequences, meaning what’s needed is actually an RNA that can link these short sequences into longer, more complex ones. A number of such sequences, termed RNA ligases, have been identified. Several labs have shown that these ligases can then be improved by an essentially Darwinian process of random mutation followed by selection for increased efficiency.

It’s all very interesting, although one cannot help but notice that what is basically being described here is a whole lot of dominos very necessarily falling into a very definite pattern. It’s becoming increasingly hard to accept that a truly random process could have led to the emergence of even something as simple as the first single-celled organism, let alone something as complex as a human being and the capability for reason thereof.

Reason…discussions thereof always become so much more interesting when one looks at human origins, and more so again when one looks at life’s origins. If in fact we emerged via a few random interactions in some early chemical soup, and if in fact we persist today and are primarily governed by random or hormonally influenced chemical reactions in our brains, it is a supreme act of faith to assume that we are even capable of true reasoning — what we call our ability to be rational may, in fact, just be one more opportunistic chemical reaction that has no purpose, no meaning, and which we have no ability to control.

In other words, if the atheists are right, there is no reason. To have reason, one necessarily needs faith…which shouldn’t really come as that much of a surprise. We need something external to us to lift us up from the mud, after all. That a human being is capable of reason is, I think, yet another compelling argument in favour of the existence of a rational God.

“BBC news is reporting that rocky planets, possibly with conditions suitable for life, may be more common than previously thought in our galaxy, a study has found. New evidence suggests more than half the Sun-like stars in the Milky Way could have similar planetary systems. There may also be hundreds of undiscovered worlds in outer parts of our Solar System, astronomers believe. Future studies of such worlds will radically alter our understanding of how planets are formed, they say.”

Well, that’s nice. Of course, even if it were true (which we do not know, mind), it’s not exactly the end of the inquiry, is it? I mean, just because a planet might be able to support life does not mean that life arose on that planet. And even if life did arise on that planet, that doesn’t necessarily mean that sentient or sapient life arose on that planet — finding extraterrestrial plants would be cool for a while, but at the end of the day alien cabbage will be every bit as boring as Earth cabbage.

And the fact of the matter is, from what we can observe, the galaxy is a very quiet place — at least in terms of our ability to detect indications, by way of radio signals, of other advanced civilizations in other regions of space. Maybe it’s just a matter of time — perhaps they haven’t been broadcasting long enough for the signals to reach us. Or maybe it’s not — maybe we are alone, at least as a sapient species.

Still, learning more about stellar evolution and planetary formation is always a source of interest and fascination for a guy like me, so all power to these researchers in their quest for knowledge.