Life
is not an epiphenomenon, a minor incidental of the material universe, but a
manifestation of the profoundest reality.... Accidental in detail, always
within physical laws, the broad tendency toward the greater complexity and
efficacity of life conforms to the way of the universe, which by its expansion
enables the powers of self-organization to defy the dominion of entropy.
Robert Wesson, Beyond Natural Selection
No one knows
who first came up with the somewhat sarcastic adage There are no hungry philosophers. But the first truth-seekers in
all likelihood appeared not long after people first learned how to control
fire. Once those proto-humans found themselves safe inside their caves, staring
into the flickering flames with full bellies, they probably began to experience
vague, wordless stirrings in their primeval brains. Innately inquisitive, over
time these brains developed the capability to translate mental images into
concepts and words into language. As synaptic connections proliferated, swelling
into byzantine networks, symbolic imagery evolved into thought and mind was born. Hearth-side musings
became wonderings that little by little morphed into the so-called “eternal”
questions. Nagging questions that to this day, by definition, remain unanswered.
Among the most timeless: What is life? What is it for? What does it mean?
Because of who we are and have always been, people still ask these very
questions. Some believe that the answers have been revealed, the compelling
riddles solved…or that Only God knows.
Others are convinced that even thinking about such matters is a fruitless waste
of time and always has been.
So.
We are living in a time known as the twenty-first century A.D. and humans know
things…many things. Those old questions are still unanswered, it seems. On the
other hand, we have unraveled the workings of the entire universe. We now know
how living things work, down to the finest details. But do we know what life is? At this point in time, most would
say Of course we do! Most of those
who answer in the affirmative, however, would be hard pressed to offer solid
evidence backing their conviction.
Among
the small set of people who still ask the question “What is life?” I find
myself in an even smaller subset who feel certain that we do not know what life is. But I have some
ideas…some of them decidedly unorthodox or at least out of current fashion.
What follows is a distilled summation, deliberately couched in unscientific
language, that captures my way of thinking as regards nature’s subtle and
ill-defined aspects:
Life arose on Earth virtually as
soon as conditions allowed. And thrived. It is expressed, here and now, as four billion
years worth of evolutionary experimentation. For life, the passage of time has no meaning—eons are measured in the
ongoing transformation of its productions. Life
imparts its essence to inert matter by virtue of an incomparable, “minded”
creativeness limited only by physical law. It is a self-organizing agency, both willful and intelligent,
brimming with both possibility and promise.
Life, while keeping to circuitous pathways, follows some inexorable course
unknown to us. It is supremely patient, methodical, and resilient…is undaunted
by failure or setback. At the same time, life
is a bold explorer, a dynamic and capricious—even whimsical—innovator.
Among its courses of action, life
conspicuously favors novelty and multiplicity…will sample virtually every
feasible design motif—at least once. (Others, it reinvents repeatedly.) Rather
than being a freak accident of time and chance, life is an integral feature of the cosmos, one that arises where
and whenever conditions permit within our vast universe. Life itself is the alleged “intelligent designer” and somehow has
devised countless astonishingly inventive ways of making all this
happen—without ever resorting to miracles.
And here we are: living proof.
Such
notions, of course, are by no means new or even particularly unconventional.
Still, they are more representative of past belief systems that are not merely
passé but whose central precepts are today often ridiculed; as a rule, educated
people deem those who cling to such archaic beliefs naïve or deluded.
Nonetheless, my deliberately fanciful characterization of the phenomenon of life
is a defensible position—our society has come full circle in the sense that we
are once again seeing humanity as an inseparable part of the natural world.
Still, for many individuals the whole of nature remains a virtual abstraction
in their day to day lives, something that lives out of doors. Our current
cultural milieu does not support or encourage a movement towards the more
inclusive, nuanced attitudes toward nature that were ubiquitous not so very
long ago.
Certain
phenomena still lie just beyond the reach of science’s methods. Human
consciousness—mind—is perhaps the
most pressing of these unresolved issues and, despite significant advances in
various fields, many glaring unknowns remain. With no general agreement on
origins, functions, a definition, or even precisely what consciousness
represents, it has been held back from its rightful place as part of a broad
scientific conception of reality. And, since it has no established footing, mind
is often entirely left out of discussions concerning matters with which it is
inescapably entwined. (In formulating theories of mind, for instance.) This
point is much-debated. But, as per my assertion that we have no firm
understanding of what animates living things: if this is true, it follows that
we cannot have a truly accurate picture of reality without including mind—the very thing that allows us to contemplate
such matters. Thomas Nagel again: “In the meantime, we go on using perception
and reason to construct scientific theories…even though we do not have a
convincing external account of why those faculties exist that is consistent
with our confidence in their reliability….”
Accordingly,
I believe that science should maintain its central role in providing an
objective view of our world but should not be the sole basis for explaining how
nature operates. And here I realize that I am entering dangerous territory,
that this statement puts my entire stance at risk of not being taken seriously.
But, insofar as current scientific thought fails to address certain matters
that may prove crucial in gaining a better understanding of what life is, something needs to give way. A
more inclusive mental construct of what life
consists of will require that a conceptual door be cracked open—one that
lets in some fresh air in the form of speculations traditionally anathema to
scientific thought. This is not to advocate openly embracing pseudoscientific notions
and premises, but rather to skeptically consent to at least consider hypotheses
that languish near the border of currently accepted theory. We see this
approach already at play in modern cosmology with the concept of the multiverse and, in atomic physics, with string theory. To date, nothing similarly
resistant to empirical study or rational conceptualization has arisen in the
biosciences. In time, a tipping
point may be reached when a critical number of influential experts arrive at
consensus on this point: The solution to
nature’s most stubborn riddles appear to actually be receding from our grasp. And
this consensus will build until it triggers biology’s version of a scientific
revolution.
While
living things are in many regards such well suited subjects for experimental
analysis, life will never reveal all
its secrets to our limited intellects. We live in a universe that, in point of
fact, makes perfect sense in every regard. This world’s most enigmatic features
may be opaque to us simply because humans lack the perceptive “equipment”
necessary for unraveling its innermost workings.
But
then, another cosmic riddle: despite its flamboyant complexity, our world
operates by principles that are striking for their quality of being so open to
human inquiry. Many great minds have pondered this notion, searching for clues.
One facet of the mystery, seldom broached, is the very real quality of life’s being fringed by the unknown and
unknowable—in and of itself an extremely telling point that should speak to
anyone who questions why all this…stuff…is accessible to our scrutiny in
the first place. While many would adamantly disagree with this notion of innate
inscrutability, it may be that in certain fields—cosmology being perhaps foremost
among them—we may already be approaching the limits of what science is capable
of. Still, a number of classic unsolved problems may yet prove within reach of
its time-tested methods.
It
is often said that many of our most stubborn mysteries should properly be
regarded as “unanswered questions.” Some of the answers to these obdurate
questions may eventually be found by way of methods belonging to fields that
are customarily considered fringe- or pseudo-science. Of
course, most scientists[1]—by
disposition—are ill inclined to accept claims based on what are perceived as
relating to the mystical or so-called “spiritual” sides of nature. This goes to the heart of why there
is a lingering resistance to discussing tricky subjects like consciousness, or
any matter that cannot be couched exclusively in material terms.
Surely, there must be some middle ground here that might open doors leading to
new insights. Author Carter Phipps, in Evolutionaries: Unlocking the Spiritual and
Cultural Potential of Science’s Greatest Idea writes,
[T]here is a huge
difference between genuinely transrational spiritual states, intuitions, and
experiences, and areas of knowledge that may be subtle, complex, and relatively
unexplored yet hardly unnatural or unknowable. We should never blindly conflate
nonphysical with supernatural. I suspect that over time we will discover that
the science of this internal universe, while subtle in terms of our present
conceptions, is well within the framework of a sensible, comprehensible universe.
One
prominent sticking point: nature displays unmistakable signs of design in all
its creations, down to the smallest details. Scientific thought holds that
“design” implies a design-er with
some sort of objective. (The practice of science denies that nature can have a
“plan,” or targeted goal.) And that the appearance
of design is illusory; life’s productions have no purpose, being—as famously
avowed by French biochemist Jacques Monod—solely the result of “chance and
necessity.” Meanwhile, the devoutly religious remain steadfast in their
conviction that some all-knowing deity intentionally contrived this vast,
elaborate cosmos with some clear objective centered around humanity.
I
stand in support of a third view: that there is something that could be labeled a designer, one whose creations
are not crafted purely by chance and necessity (while those influences are two
agents that it constantly employs). “It” is not some mystical entity beyond our
sphere. Simply put, the Creator is nature itself, in the broadest sense of the
concept—defined here as nothing more and nothing less than this world: the
universe. Nature creates and designs itself.
It has no purpose or meaning aside from itself, no plan…many means, but no
ends—at least, not in any sense humans are able to comprehend. Life, bound by both contingency and
necessity, is one manifestation of
nature. (Or vice versa...) And as for life’s
purposiveness: I would argue that we are not at liberty to make a judgment
about something humans are incapable of grasping.
This,
then, is the framework my conception of life
is built around. It is a principle which, wanting a name, will hereafter be
called Natural Design. It is not to
be confused with pantheism—the belief that nature is equivalent to a divinity.[2]
In fact, a crucial thrust of my position is the total exclusion of any supernatural
elements. (In choosing the name “Natural Design,” it was my express intention
to underscore its disparity with the anti-science religious program known as
“Intelligent Design.”) While Natural Design promotes a novel way of viewing
natural phenomena, its validity hinges on being in conformity with
scientifically accepted fact. It does not reflect a particular ideology.
Natural Design is predicated on the existence of a specific capacity, a tendency
or predisposition, that is inherent to life.[3] This singular capability is what has
historically been mistaken for a “life force.” The distinction is subtle and
warrants further clarification:
Instead
of being acted upon by some driving force, nature can be viewed as possessing a
scientifically unrecognized attribute that is able to bring forth life. Nature has the innate ability to
design its productions and to engineer solutions to the difficulties it faces
in a manner that far exceeds the blind explorations of evolution as conceived
by Charles Darwin. In a manner of speaking, Natural Design somehow lends life a cheritable hand, “a leg up,” a
way to more easily achieve certain goal-less ends. It furthers beneficial
change. Throughout this book I will be spotlighting instances of Natural Design
at work. For now, it should be understood that this is a conceptual tool whose
purpose is to bring clarity to matters that have been misinterpreted or
misrepresented. It is not a theory, per se. Natural Design may not constitute a
hypothesis that can be subjected to rigorous testing but it can be used to make predictions derived
from the set of assumptions laid out at the beginning of this chapter. And I
will show how predictions based on Natural Design, and the patterns it reveals,
demonstrate its utility as a means to better describe life.
Natural Design is predicated on the idea that
each and every branch of the biological sciences is hampered by significant
conceptual shortcomings due to that one crucial piece of information: we do not
know what life actually is. The
almost universal belief among scientists that life can be explained solely in terms of chemistry and physics
will, I predict, one day be seen as a quaint anachronism. For those who
instinctively reject this assertion out of principle: reflect on the fact that
after attempts spanning centuries there is still no consensus on a clear-cut,
all-encompassing definition of what being alive entails.[4]
Also consider the implications of the fact that a number of nature’s most
crucial inventions, with all their complexities—photosynthesis being a prime
example—were in operation during life’s
early stages. Insofar as we can ever hope to fully grasp such intricacy, the
key will be found in discovering the basis of how living things manipulate
information. At the heart of the
matter will be finding how this ability arose in the first place. Without such
understanding, the big picture will remain fragmentary.
Before
biology developed into a mature science, such a fundamental lack of
understanding had yet to become an issue. During its formative era (roughly
speaking, before the 1830s) the focal point of life-centered science was mostly
comparative—directed toward learning about organisms and their multitudinous
parts and habits through observing, collecting, dissecting and classifying.
Ecology followed, illuminating new layers of complexity through a focus on
biosystems and the tangled web of relationships between habitats and inhabitants.
Once biology became a full-grown science, questions of origins and meaning were
handed back to the philosophers.
Only
after molecular biology and embryology assumed their rightful foundational
standings in the mid-20th century did the most basic aspects of all
life sciences finally seem to come
within reach. In the 1940s, Erwin Schrödinger (first to propose the existence
of some sort of genetic code) wrote an intentionally thought-provoking little
book entitled What is life? It
addressed head-on, from a physicist’s point of view, the age-old debate that
was being tacitly ignored by modern biologists: How can physics and chemistry account for living organisms? This
question remains problematic. Still unanswered, the whole vexing issue
continues to be debated. But so far as modern science is concerned, the subject
is generally considered too ambiguous and subjective, veering too close to
philosophy for serious consideration.
There is little doubt that among the
universe’s billions—no, trillions—of planets, surely others are home to living
things. (For reasons taken up later, those harboring life forms more advanced
than microbes are likely far rarer than science fiction aficionados and Carl
Sagan devotees would have us believe.) Still, the vast majority of other worlds
are lifeless, always were, and have no difficulty whatsoever maintaining that
status.
But
here on this remarkable and munificent little planet of ours, the living and
non-living exist together, mingled inextricably with nothing in between.[5]
Both are so omnipresent and entangled that, from day to day, we unavoidably
fail to note the truly vast gulf between animate and inanimate; we lack any sort of meaningful perspective. But it’s obvious! One moves around and does things…the other doesn’t. A point so
obvious, it seems beyond question. This crucial lack-of-perspective is a factor
in virtually all my claims and of central importance to my thesis; try to bear
this in mind.
Here
is another unconventional idea: There are no compelling reasons to presume that
the inception of life was an event
intrinsically less remarkable or enigmatic than the origin of non-living
matter, simply because its arrival here on Earth took place well after the Big
Bang. For life to be realized, the
universe itself had to evolve to meet requisite conditions. Following the
nascent universe’s initial expansion, matter in its atomic state could not form until almost half a
million years had passed[6]
and another 1.6 billion years elapsed before a sufficient number of early
generation stars had exploded, creating the debris needed for planets to form.
Multiple generations of specific types of stars (those capable of forging the
heavier elements necessary for life) had to explode in stellar supernovas, casting their planetary
seeds into space.
In
a cosmological sense, where time’s passage has different meaning, the
chronologic difference between matter’s origin and life’s inception is of
little consequence. My point being: there is simply no way to compare those two
historic origin-events…no causal framework in which to place them that allows
for any rational conclusions as to their relative significance. (My guess is
that an omnipotent, omnipresent creator-deity would consider life their better piece of work.)
Cultural detachment from the natural world
only amplifies an inability to perceive life
for what it might represent in totality. Its significance is too profound for
comprehension…perhaps too overwhelming to face squarely without some coercion.
But watching a single episode of David Attenborough’s Nature series should be more than enough to lastingly replenish the
most jaded person’s sense of wonder. Or, an open-eyed stroll over any hill or
through any dale. Instead, out of sheer familiarity, life’s ubiquity and beyond-belief variety have a strange, numbing
effect—our brains resolutely clouding that unique human capacity to feel
unbridled awe. We continually take life’s
innumerable wonders for granted and, by doing so, demean it.
©2017 by Tim Forsell (draft)
[1] My preference would be to not speak of “scientists” as
a group, which seems to imply that they all belong to some sort of unified
group. My intention in doing so is to refer to those who perceive the world
from a position that is predominantly shaped by “the scientific viewpoint.”
When I find it necessary to refer to scientists collectively, it is simply to
avoid excessive qualification and awkward verbiage. Also, when I use the term
“science” in a general or unspecified sense, it will always be in the spirit of
what Carl Sagan referred to when he said,
”Science is much more than a body of knowledge. It is a way of
thinking.”
[2] It might be construed that I am more or less describing
“God, with a fresh coat of paint.” I could as easily argue that people who
experience some inner drive to worship a deity are, in truth, unwitting
pantheists.
[3] This concept is the basis of several discredited 19th
century orthogenetic theories that
shared in common the belief that organisms possess subtle internal factors that
influence their evolution. A failure to identify specific mechanisms involved
resulted in such theories never gaining credence.
[4] Note the emphasis on no consensus. Most of the literally hundreds of proposed definitions
are more or less true though many suffer from being awkward and vague or are
flawed by a surprising number of pesky exceptions-to-the-rule.
[5] It is generally considered that the one candidate for
an exception would be viruses—crystal-like packets of lifeless genetic material
that require living hosts to provide their needs. But note that the status of
viruses is currently being reexamined—it may prove that viruses are “more alive”
than has long been thought.
[6] At this point the universe had cooled sufficiently for
electrons to bond permanently with free hydrogen and helium nuclei. Previous to
that, it was a super-hot plasma of subatomic particles.
