Monkeys, iPods, Playing Cards, and Math: the Fragment No One Will Read

I write this fully expecting that no one will make it all the way through the post. This is a long post and somewhat technical, and it’s on a controversial topic: Evolution (not, that’s not why I mentioned monkeys in the title). Let me at least say this: what follows is not a stereotypical argument about Evolution. I am not arguing against Evolution, or in favor of Intelligent Design—in fact, I’m not even comparing the two. The reason I bring up Evolution is because I think it provides a great example of a certain tendency in our culture, the way we compare religious knowledge to scientific knowledge. The following discussion focuses on Evolution and probability, so I have taken on the added liability of discussing math in an already-questionable post. As I said, I don’t expect anyone to read this all the way though. I hope someone will, but ultimately I wrote this just to get the idea out of my head so I could focus on homework. If that’s all I’ve accomplished, it was worth it. Now, let’s talk about monkeys.

Monkeys

Anti-evolutionists like to argue against Evolution by pointing out the sheer, mind-boggling improbability that life would evolve by mere chance. This is a logical fallacy. Probabilities cannot be used to argue things that have already happened, because they already happened. Probability only refers to unknown events: they tell us the chances that something unknown could happen. The fact that something did happen makes probabilities irrelevant. After all, it was highly improbable that the 2008 New York Giants would go all the way to the Super Bowl and defeat a previously-undefeated team. It was even more unlikely that the same team would do the exact same thing three years later against the exact same opponent. But no matter how improbable those events were, it doesn’t change the fact that they happened. In the same way, we know that life exists on Earth. Therefore, no matter how improbable it is that life would evolve by mere chance, the fact that it is here is indisputable; therefore the fact that it was unlikely to happen does not change the fact that it (presumably) did. Of course, we do not know with absolute certainty how life got here; if creationists had a theory that was a more-probable explanation, then they would have an argument. But there is no probability involved in intelligent design. There are no statistical analyses of how likely God was to create life. Therefore, you can’t use probability to argue between the two.

The fact that creationists misuse probability against evolution, however, does not mean that Evolutionists have used probability properly. The counter-argument Evolutionists make is usually this: that, given enough time, life was bound to happen somewhere. This argument is also made about the existence of extra-terrestrial life: with all of the planets in the universe, life is bound to appear somewhere else among them. The analogy used for this argument is the “Monkey-Typist Argument,” as I like to call it. The analogy is this: if we put a group of monkeys in a room and gave each of them a typewriter and an eternity to bang on the keys, eventually they would bang out the complete works of Shakespeare. Essentially, the argument is that, over the course of eternity, the monkeys would hit every possible sequence of letters, one of which is the complete works of Shakespeare. The argument makes sense to us, but that’s because we have a hard time truly understanding the nature of randomness. In actuality, this argument is complete crap.

It’s quite easy to imagine a possible scenario in which the analogy falls apart. Imagine, for instance, that one monkey likes to hit each key twice—aa, bb, ff, jj, etc. This monkey, if he continues to do this throughout eternity, will never type a single word of Shakespeare. Another monkey might like to hit a number every third key. He will never type any Shakespeare either. Perhaps another monkey loves the space key, and hits it every tenth key. Another monkey types only on the left side of the keyboard, and another likes to type only punctuation marks. This group of monkeys will never, ever produce the works of Shakespeare, even over the full stretch of eternity. And yet, this scenario is possible under the analogy above. The only way we could guarantee that the monkeys would produce the works of Shakespeare at some point would be to count the number of characters in his works (let’s call it X) and say that the monkeys can never repeat the same string of X characters as they type. Eventually they would go through every possible combination of X characters, one of which is the works of Shakespeare. But that wouldn’t be random, because we made a rule.

iPods 

Here’s another analogy that might make things clearer. The CD player in my car has a “random” setting. My iPod, on the other hand, has a “shuffle” setting. We might think that Apple is just be proprietary, or being “unique” by being predictably different, but there is an actual different between the settings. When I hit shuffle on my iPod, the iPod mixes up the songs. However, it still numbers the songs (1 of 10, 2 of 10, etc.). This is because the shuffle setting is not truly random. My CD player is random (or as close as a machine can be), which means that every once in a while it will play the same song twice in a row. The iPod will (almost) never do this because it plays each song only once until it has player through every song (it could repeat a song, but only if it chose the same song as the last song of one list and the first song of the next list). Therefore the iPod is not random, because it chooses the songs according to rules.

Apple uses this setting because we don’t actually want true randomness. See, we tend to think that random means the absence of a pattern. If my CD player played the whole CD in order, or plays one song over and over, I wouldn’t consider that to be random. However, if the song selection is truly random, then those sequences are within the realm of possibility. In fact, the CD player is just as likely to choose the same song ten times as it is to choose any other sequence of ten songs. This is why the Monkey-Typist argument doesn’t work: because, even if we give an infinite number of monkeys an eternity to type, we are precisely as likely to get an infinite string of just the letter A as we are any sequence of letters that includes the works of Shakespeare.

Playing Cards 

Okay, one final analogy, and then I promise I’ll get to my point. Imagine a complete deck of cards (no jokers). Let’s say I begin choosing cards at random, and after choosing each card I set it aside. What are the chances I will choose the Ace of Spades on the first try? If you said 1 in 52, you’re right. How about the second try? 1 in 51. And then 1 in 50, 1 in 49, etc. etc. If I manage to pull 51 cards, then I am guaranteed that the last card is the Ace of Spades—I have a 1 in 1 chance. Therefore, I am guaranteed to pull the Ace of Spades in 52 tries or less.

Now imagine that I do the same thing, only instead of setting the card aside I put the card back in the deck. The chances on my first pull are still 1 in 52. But if I put the card back in, then what are the chances I will pull the card on the second try? Well, it’s still a 1-in-52 chance. The third time, it’s still 1 in 52. No matter how many times I pull a card from the deck, my chances never, ever get any better than 1 in 52. Experience tells us to expect that I will eventually pull the Ace of Spades from the deck, but speaking probabilistically, this is by no means assured. It is entirely possible that I will never choose the Ace of Spades—in fact, it is likely that I never will, because in a truly random system no possibility is ever ruled out. I could end up pulling only hearts, or only face cards, or even one single card over and over again, without ever coming across the Ace of Spades.

Math 

Alright, so what the heck am I getting at? Well, as I said before, arguments from probability do not work against Evolution as a past event. However, they do still apply to Evolution as a continuing, future event. Here’s the question I’m getting at, which I’ve never heard anyone ask: even if we did get here as a result of Evolution, why do we assume that life will continue to evolve? It seems like an obvious assumption—after all, if Evolution created the life we see on the planet, they why wouldn’t it continue to work? But again, this is because we fail to understand the true significance of randomness.

Evolution is based on the following logic:

1.       Mutations occur randomly.

2.       Living things compete over limited resources, and the more-capable species survive while the less-capable species die out (Natural Selection)

3.       The process of natural selection preserves beneficial mutations.

4.       New species develop by the accumulation of beneficial mutations.

Now, this logic is essentially sound. However, even if we accept this logic, it doesn’t mean that Evolution happens. After all, what none of the mutations are ever beneficial? If they are truly random, then there is no reason to assume that any of the mutations are beneficial, let alone enough of them to create a new species. See, this is where Evolution goes beyond a scientific theory and becomes a historical theory: Evolution claims not only that nature follows the logic above, but also that beneficial mutations have occurred in history, and often enough (and in the right order) to create the variety of species that exist on the planet.

Let’s return to the playing cards analogy for a moment, and adapt it to Evolution. Imagine there is a card for every possible genetic mutation. I don’t know how many mutations would be possible (I imagine it depends on the number of genes in the code, or it might well be infinite), but let’s make a conservative estimate and say there are 1 billion (1,000,000,000) possible mutations. Now, let’s say you want to evolve an eyeball—a notoriously complex organ. In order to develop an eye ball, you would need to get there one mutation at a time, and each mutation would have to make the organism more competitive than before. We will greatly simplify the process: let’s say that we have identified 10 mutations, out of the total 1 billion, which, if they occur in the right order, will create an eyeball. Ok, so your chances of pulling the first mutation, A, is 1 in 1 billion. The chances of you pulling mutation B pull is also 1 in 1 billion. However, your chances of pulling A on the first pull and B on the second pull is 1 in 10¹⁸, or 1 in 1,000,000,000,000,000,000. Your chances of pulling all 10 mutations (a hugely, absurdly conservative number) in the right order? 1 in 10⁹⁰. That’s 1 in 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,
000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000. Hugely improbable, right? In fact, that number is so big that it goes far beyond our ability to even comprehend how big it is. And that’s just the chances of evolving one single organ, in a universe where there are only 1 billion mutations and it only takes 10 mutations to make an eyeball. We do not live in so simple a universe.

Now, as we have said, this argument means nothing as far as whether Evolution happened in the past. Maybe the universe is even luckier than Eli Manning (the Giants quarterback, for you non-football fans). However, if mutation is truly random (and it must be, if we don’t believe in a higher intelligence), then the fact that Evolution has happened in the past does not prove that it will happen in the future. In that original, 52 card game, we said that the odds never get any better no matter how many times we lose. However, the same logic holds for a lucky streak: even if we manage to pull the Ace of Spades 100 times in a row, the odds never get better than 1 in 52 that we will pull it again. The smart money, then, is to always bet against the Ace of Spades. Apply that same logic to Evolution. If the odds of developing a new organ in 10 steps is 1 in 10⁹⁰, then no matter how lucky the universe gets, the smart money will always be against Evolution occurring. The smart money is that we will never, ever see a beneficial mutation come around in the right organism, at the right time, to allow the creature to evolve. The chances are much more likely that nothing will ever evolve again, throughout eternity.

The Point

 In spite of this, and against all reason and logic, people still believe that creation will continue to evolve. In fact, even suggesting that it won’t would be considered odd. I commend these people for their faith, which goes far beyond anything I am capable of. I have a hard enough time trusting an omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent, all-good, loving god to direct my life in the right way; trusting blind chance to choose the absurdly-unlikely event every time, at the right time, and in the right order, is far beyond my own capability. Now, I don’t say this to argue against Evolution. I’m not comparing religion and evolution here: I’m comparing religion to strict materialism. Here’s my main point: I think Evolution is the best argument anyone has made for God in the last two hundred years. If Evolution is true, then it doesn’t constitute proof against God’s existence, but proof of God’s existence. I can only believe that these beneficial mutations happened in precisely the right time, place, and order, and will continue to do so, if I believe that there is some force behind them ensuring that they do so. Even if the universe has been absurdly lucky thus far, I cannot maintain belief in Evolution as an on-going process without believing in some kind of higher power at the same time.

Ok, I lied before. That wasn’t my main point. I didn’t write this to dispute about the probability of Evolution. My real main point is this: secular science does not have the monopoly on reason and logic, and they certainly are not devoid of faith. Every position requires faith, strict materialism more than most. We often feel the urge to argue with science, as if God needs defending. The truth is, God created everything. How he did it, we do not know (and the Genesis account is not so clear as we might think. Did you know, for instance, that St. Augustine once proposed a theory of evolution, which he got from the Bible? He ultimately rejected it because it contradicted the science of his times). But we know he did it. And nothing science may tell us about creation will ever prove otherwise. I say this, not out of stubborn faith, but because science does not have the capacity to speak about God. It can only tell us the how, never the why. Maybe science is right in saying that Evolution is how life came about, but science is ultimately helpless to explain why it happened. And the why is ultimately the most important question.