Complexity Can Be Specified
Industry pays computer programmers more than it pays secretaries, though in a sense they both do the same thing. A programmer may write equations into a program that a physicist can use to design a lens. A secretary may type a report on a word processor. Both are really programming a computer. The secretary programs the computer to produce the report by typing one letter at a time. The programmer writes a few lines of equations that may produce as much output as the report, or more. Which one is doing the more complex task? The secretary’s product is more complex because it takes more detailed instructions to specify exactly what the computer is to do. The length of the programmer’s program may only be a few kilobytes, but the secretary’s report is about 6 kilobytes per page.
Industry personnel officers may justify paying computer programmers more than secretaries because the amount of training the programmers require takes somewhat longer than the training for secretaries, and also because more people are ready to be secretaries than programmers. Apart from any lamentable inequities in remuneration practices, the point of the example above is to show that we can measure complexity in terms of the number of small instructions it takes to produce the product.
Big software packages may run to many megabytes, but most of such packages these days are parts of the graphical user interface, the pictures people need to use the programs. A crystal is not very complex because, after describing one cell, we only need to give the number of cells in each of three directions. A photograph is much more complex than a mathematical program or a page of text. We can’t send a picture of ourselves in a line of equations.
The foregoing enables us to appreciate the complexity of DNA, the molecule that specifies the genetic information in all living organisms. We should think of DNA as a ladder twisted into a spiral, something like a spiral staircase. Each rung of the ladder consists of two molecules that fit neatly together. There are two pairs of molecules that make rungs that are almost alike, and the two kinds of rungs are symmetrical, that is, they can fit into the ladder with either end to one side. If we choose one side of the ladder to study, there are four possible molecules at each place where is a rung is connected. The other side of the ladder is complementary. Whatever sequence of molecules appears on one side has the same sequence of opposite rung ends on the other side.
Enzymes work with groups of three rungs. In a group of three rung ends, each end can be any of four molecules, so there are 4x4x4=64 possible combinations in any group of three. Enzymes use these combinations to specify 21 different nucleic acids. That is, there may be two or three different combinations of “rung ends” or molecules that specify the same nucleic acid. Other combinations have other uses. There is a start code that tells an enzyme where to start reproducing the side, and a stop code that tells the enzyme when it has read all the specifications for a given protein.
People have 46 long strings of DNA code wound up as chromosomes in the nuclei of their cells. Of these, they inherit 23 from their mother and 23 from their father. Each set of 23 chromosomes is the complete specification for a human being. The information is about the size of a 23-volume encyclopedia. In some way (as yet unknown) the enzymes choose which of the two encyclopedias to read when expressing the different characteristics in the cells of our bodies.
The richly varied forms of all living species are specified in DNA code. A measure of their complexity is the amount of information in the code. The code specifies the complexity of the species.
We can now appreciate why random action cannot build up the simple very far into the complex. The complexity of the genome of the tiniest living organism is far greater than the complexity of organic compounds, and these in turn are much more complex than the 92 elements.
Industry personnel officers may justify paying computer programmers more than secretaries because the amount of training the programmers require takes somewhat longer than the training for secretaries, and also because more people are ready to be secretaries than programmers. Apart from any lamentable inequities in remuneration practices, the point of the example above is to show that we can measure complexity in terms of the number of small instructions it takes to produce the product.
Big software packages may run to many megabytes, but most of such packages these days are parts of the graphical user interface, the pictures people need to use the programs. A crystal is not very complex because, after describing one cell, we only need to give the number of cells in each of three directions. A photograph is much more complex than a mathematical program or a page of text. We can’t send a picture of ourselves in a line of equations.
The foregoing enables us to appreciate the complexity of DNA, the molecule that specifies the genetic information in all living organisms. We should think of DNA as a ladder twisted into a spiral, something like a spiral staircase. Each rung of the ladder consists of two molecules that fit neatly together. There are two pairs of molecules that make rungs that are almost alike, and the two kinds of rungs are symmetrical, that is, they can fit into the ladder with either end to one side. If we choose one side of the ladder to study, there are four possible molecules at each place where is a rung is connected. The other side of the ladder is complementary. Whatever sequence of molecules appears on one side has the same sequence of opposite rung ends on the other side.
Enzymes work with groups of three rungs. In a group of three rung ends, each end can be any of four molecules, so there are 4x4x4=64 possible combinations in any group of three. Enzymes use these combinations to specify 21 different nucleic acids. That is, there may be two or three different combinations of “rung ends” or molecules that specify the same nucleic acid. Other combinations have other uses. There is a start code that tells an enzyme where to start reproducing the side, and a stop code that tells the enzyme when it has read all the specifications for a given protein.
People have 46 long strings of DNA code wound up as chromosomes in the nuclei of their cells. Of these, they inherit 23 from their mother and 23 from their father. Each set of 23 chromosomes is the complete specification for a human being. The information is about the size of a 23-volume encyclopedia. In some way (as yet unknown) the enzymes choose which of the two encyclopedias to read when expressing the different characteristics in the cells of our bodies.
The richly varied forms of all living species are specified in DNA code. A measure of their complexity is the amount of information in the code. The code specifies the complexity of the species.
We can now appreciate why random action cannot build up the simple very far into the complex. The complexity of the genome of the tiniest living organism is far greater than the complexity of organic compounds, and these in turn are much more complex than the 92 elements.
Information and Physical Laws
Random action cannot put nucleons or chemical elements or nucleotides together in any arbitrary way at all. The laws of physics and chemistry prohibit certain combinations. Did information then arise from the laws of physics and chemistry? No, laws only forbid. Laws do not direct.
If you want to drive home from work across the city, you have to follow the streets and roads. City ordinances may forbid you to drive in certain directions on certain streets, and buildings or fences may prevent your car from going diagonally across city blocks. Even if you are obeying the law and driving only where it is possible for your car to go, you won’t necessarily get home. A map shows where you can drive, but you have to choose your destination and your route for getting from your starting place. Your choice should be consistent with the laws, but it doesn’t come from them automatically unless there is only one way to get home.
Books in English follow rules for spelling and grammar. These days those rules are programmed into word processors. If the laws of physics and chemistry created information before there was intelligence, then we should also be able to write books by pressing a button and letting the rules fill the book with information. There are many books that follow the same rules but some of them blatantly contradict others. Contradictory books cannot all be right. Therefore, laws and rules do not create information.
If you want to drive home from work across the city, you have to follow the streets and roads. City ordinances may forbid you to drive in certain directions on certain streets, and buildings or fences may prevent your car from going diagonally across city blocks. Even if you are obeying the law and driving only where it is possible for your car to go, you won’t necessarily get home. A map shows where you can drive, but you have to choose your destination and your route for getting from your starting place. Your choice should be consistent with the laws, but it doesn’t come from them automatically unless there is only one way to get home.
Books in English follow rules for spelling and grammar. These days those rules are programmed into word processors. If the laws of physics and chemistry created information before there was intelligence, then we should also be able to write books by pressing a button and letting the rules fill the book with information. There are many books that follow the same rules but some of them blatantly contradict others. Contradictory books cannot all be right. Therefore, laws and rules do not create information.
Did Our Life Begin Elsewhere?
James Dewey Watson (American biochemist, 1928– ) and Francis Harry Compton Crick (British biophysicist, 1916–2004) won the 1962 Nobel Prize in physiology or medicine for their discovery of the double helix structure of DNA, which stores the genetic code. Crick appreciated the impossibility of random action producing the genetic code of any living organism even if life on Earth appeared 3 800 million years ago. He proposed that a highly advanced previous civilization arose elsewhere in the universe through a much longer Darwinist process. Then, these extraterrestrials sent small reentry vehicles that seeded their life over a wide region of the universe. The vehicles started colonies wherever they found conditions suitable for life. The Earth is one of those locations. Crick called this idea “panspermia.”
The idea has a number of merits. It answers the question of why our life appears to be designed. Our present knowledge and capabilities, though very advanced, are just now approaching the level necessary to carry out a panspermia project of our own. Who knows what we will be able to do a few centuries from now? And what are a few centuries compared with the history of life on Earth? A sufficiently advanced civilization probably could design a form of life like ours. Perhaps our life is similar to their life, perhaps different.
There is a great search on to discover some encoded message from an extraterrestrial superior intelligence. Could we (and all living organisms on Earth) be the message? We have information encoded in our DNA. How did it get there?
A number of authors have warned us not to be prejudiced about what forms that life might take. Intelligent alien life need not be very similar to our own. Perhaps on other planets intelligent life has bodies similar to those of reptiles or even insects. If we are willing to go far enough freeing ourselves of prejudice, we can conceive of life not even based on atoms. Could there be life not confined to a body, not limited by space and time? It might not be physical life at all, but then, what kind of life would it be? Could it be similar to the kind of life some ancient peoples called spiritual life?
One problem with Crick’s novel idea is that it makes the origin of life even more remote in time than it is if life originated spontaneously on Earth. The origin is placed in some other planet, as yet undiscovered, which we cannot investigate in detail. This extends our quest to thousands of millions of light years of distance and an equal number of years of past time.
Crick wrestled with this problem in the latter third of the 20th century, before we knew for certain that the universe is only about three times older than the Earth. If the life that designed our life was also based on complex arrangements of atoms, it hardly had more time than ours to evolve. Full complexity was not possible until the third morning for some other planet, which may not have been much earlier than the third morning for our planet.
Crick was right when he thought that the age of the Earth is not long enough for random action to produce atom-based life. Now we know that the age of the universe is not long enough either. But if we accept the possibility that some kind of nonphysical life (say, spiritual life) designed ours, some variation of Crick’s idea remains as an open option for explaining the existence of our life.
The idea has a number of merits. It answers the question of why our life appears to be designed. Our present knowledge and capabilities, though very advanced, are just now approaching the level necessary to carry out a panspermia project of our own. Who knows what we will be able to do a few centuries from now? And what are a few centuries compared with the history of life on Earth? A sufficiently advanced civilization probably could design a form of life like ours. Perhaps our life is similar to their life, perhaps different.
There is a great search on to discover some encoded message from an extraterrestrial superior intelligence. Could we (and all living organisms on Earth) be the message? We have information encoded in our DNA. How did it get there?
A number of authors have warned us not to be prejudiced about what forms that life might take. Intelligent alien life need not be very similar to our own. Perhaps on other planets intelligent life has bodies similar to those of reptiles or even insects. If we are willing to go far enough freeing ourselves of prejudice, we can conceive of life not even based on atoms. Could there be life not confined to a body, not limited by space and time? It might not be physical life at all, but then, what kind of life would it be? Could it be similar to the kind of life some ancient peoples called spiritual life?
One problem with Crick’s novel idea is that it makes the origin of life even more remote in time than it is if life originated spontaneously on Earth. The origin is placed in some other planet, as yet undiscovered, which we cannot investigate in detail. This extends our quest to thousands of millions of light years of distance and an equal number of years of past time.
Crick wrestled with this problem in the latter third of the 20th century, before we knew for certain that the universe is only about three times older than the Earth. If the life that designed our life was also based on complex arrangements of atoms, it hardly had more time than ours to evolve. Full complexity was not possible until the third morning for some other planet, which may not have been much earlier than the third morning for our planet.
Crick was right when he thought that the age of the Earth is not long enough for random action to produce atom-based life. Now we know that the age of the universe is not long enough either. But if we accept the possibility that some kind of nonphysical life (say, spiritual life) designed ours, some variation of Crick’s idea remains as an open option for explaining the existence of our life.