A Few Thoughts on Complexity

When we think about the ongoing debate between creationists and evolutionists, at some point the question of complexity comes up. The universe as we know it is complex and that points to a creator we would say. Not so, they retort, something can be complex and not have a designer or creator. Really? I could make a general statement that everything is complex, but it doesn't tell the whole story. Some things are more complex than others. Here are some considerations we should take into account. What makes something complex? Kind of a difficult question, but we can identify a few characteristics. First, let's talk:

Parts:
The number of parts is a factor, but that is only one aspect of it. An hourglass has lots of parts (grains of sand) but it is not really very complex. A pocket watch, however, is another matter. It contains lots of parts which are distinct from each other in material, size, shape and internal complexity. By this I am referring to the kinds of operations which are necessary to make the part fulfill its purpose. Some are made of flat metal with a couple of holes punched in them. Others are cast, drilled to precise measurements, have other parts, like bearings pressed into them, are heat treated, ground, tapped, grooved or knurled. They in and of themselves are complicated and made to exacting standards. We could also make a case for uniqueness. That is, does the part only exist in this environment, or is it widely available. Honorable mention would go the amount of time and energy required to bring all the different raw materials together for manufacture.

More than Parts:

But one thing is missing from the above argument. That would be the holistic nature of the mechanism. Is a watch more than the sum of its parts? Yes, definitely. What is it that makes the mechanism more? The fact that force and procedure must be applied to the parts in order to make them work. I alluded to this when I mentioned internal complexity. Parts alone do not make a watch. One can assemble all the necessary pieces, put them in a bag and leave them for a million years and they will never tell time no matter how much the bag is shaken, stirred or flipped. More is needed.

Force needs to be applied. Having the parts in close proximity to each other is nice, but someone, or some thing, (as in a robotic arm) must grasp the parts and put them in place. Fasteners will be needed to hold the parts together. If the fastener is a screw, it must be positioned and tightened in a specific way. Bearings are another matter. Watch makers often use jewels as bearings because of their resistance to wear. The force required for them must be very specific. If they fit too tight or too loose the watch will not achieve its full potential. It may wear out too fast, or not keep good time. If it is a mechanical watch, the spring mechanism must be placed in such a way that it will have some tension on it. Again, force must be specifically applied. Just the application of force is not good enough. Parts must be assembled according to certain:

Procedures. A watch cannot be put together in a haphazard manner. Since each part is interdependent they need to be assembled in a specific order. Fit between the various gears, bearings and drive mechanism is critical. Tolerances must be attended to. Often, the fit between parts is adjusted before tightening.

The fact that force is judiciously applied and certain procedures are adhered to means intelligence. Intelligence is not simply implied. It is a necessary condition. Some mind must consider the parts and their relationship with each other. That same mind must direct their energy in the best way to assemble the mechanism. Under no other condition will a watch work. Ever.

Now let's consider a cell in light of the same questions.

While a watch may contain hundreds of parts, a cell contains thousands of them. Some are chemicals, others are miniature structures. A few are unique to the cell and found nowhere else on earth. All are microscopic in size. The nucleus contains the blueprint (DNA), written in chemical code for all cellular operations, and also gives the cell the ability to reproduce itself with great accuracy. Other devices read DNA and perform its instructions. Cells contain their own metabolic power supply (mitochondria) and internal highway system (endoplasmic reticulum) These parts are enveloped in a semi-permeable skin, which is an engineering marvel in and of itself.

All in all, a cell is several orders of complexity higher than any watch. It is holistic too. It has already been 'wound' up. It is alive.

And that's a trick no watch maker has ever been able to pull off.


The above photo was copied from the Wikipedia article titled: "Watchmaker Analogy".
Here is the link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Watchmaker_analogy.
Also: Interested in what it might take to build a watch? Try this link: http://web.ticino.com/dcorson/watch/

Episode 9: Candidate of the Apocalypse

Vance took a last puff of his cigarette and squashed it out. It was almost time. He had parked his car up here more than an hour before, half a block away from the Briar Street Theater. His mission was simple, to disrupt a political rally by any means possible. The candidate was a relative unknown, but he was supported by the Tea Party and that was enough for him, or, for his bosses anyway.

Vance's contact was nothing more than a voice, but he sure paid well. The call had come from a blocked phone a week before. If he was successful, and he usually was, a significant deposit would be made into one of his accounts. Cracking his knuckles and neck, he secretly hoped to get into a fight. But something wasn't quite right. He had been monitoring the sidewalk traffic for almost an hour and had seen no one approach the theater. Checking his watch again he saw it was only 15 minutes before the meeting was to begin. "These guys sure are running late tonight", he thought. Just then his phone rang....

Charles quickly ascended the podium. He stood smiling and nodding to acknowledge the crowd. With a raise of his hand the cheering stopped.

"First of all I would like to thank a few of you who somehow were able to book us at this beautiful edifice! Let's have a cheer for the Bank of America Theater!" As the crowd roared Charles nodded to a few people against the back wall who were smiling broadly.

"....What do you mean I've got the wrong place! This is the address they sent me!"

The voice on the phone rose in pitch and volume for a few moments, then calmed. Vance listened intently as the muscles in his neck tensed.

"Yes sir, I'll try and do better next time."

Vance got out of the car and paced back and forth on the sidewalk. Now what? He had fallen into disfavor with his bosses. Someone must have known what he was up to and led him on a wild goose chase. He'd been had. That realization worked its way through his mind and enraged him. "All right, two can play at that game. I know a few people too!" His phone came up to his ear and in a moment he was speaking in hushed tones to a man on the other end....

Charles held up the front page of yesterday's newspaper to display the headline.

"Tonight we will be talking about politics and the economy. First I want to explode a myth to you. A lot of times we see politicians in the news saying something like, 'We're going to put people back to work!' Or some variation of that. It doesn't matter what political party they represent. They're lying! The fact of the matter is this-governments do not and cannot create jobs. People do. We can see from a couple of thousand years of history that the powers of government have tried all kinds of different things to affect, or control the marketplace. And do you know how many times they have succeeded? Zero! An obvious lesson for us, isn't it? The best thing any government can do to promote economic growth is simply to get out of the way."

From his vantage point against the wall, his campaign manager had an excellent view of the crowd. They were fully engaged with Charles as he spoke. They smiled at his witticisms, nodded as he made each point and applauded regularly. The hard work their campaign had put in for the last year was showing. From the very beginning Charles had insisted on recording every talk he made. Not out of conceit, which was absent from his persona, but to help him get better. Every answer, along with his body language and facial expressions were examined in detail. Charles had honed his skills like a craftsman. The truth was that he already had many of the best qualities in place. He was friendly, personable, self-effacing and intelligent. He had a way of speaking to the issues softly but powerfully and could inspire confidence in just about any audience.

But tonight was something special.

His speech drew a standing ovation and Charles easily moved into the question and answer portion of the evening. Unlike most candidates at so called town hall meetings, none of the questions were screened. Charles stayed on the platform for this while some volunteers worked their way through the audience. Each one carried a portable camera so the questioner's face could be broadcast on the big screen up front. His answers were straight from the shoulder with no notes. His grasp of the issues, though considerable, was stretched to the limit. Questions covered every major and minor issue. Charles was able to keep upbeat and positive through it all.

Before long the meeting wound to a close. Most people filed out, but some stayed, hanging around in small groups with the largest around Charles. Like every meeting, (time permitting, of course) he would not leave until he had talked personally with everyone. It was past eleven o'clock when they finally shut the lights in the auditorium down. Charles had been there for over five hours and the fatigue was showing on his face. All that was left was to sign a few papers. His campaign manager would perform this task. Charles left first.

A few minutes later his manager came out of the theater, trotted across West Monroe and turned left. Their car was just up the street. As he walked his mind was thinking about the next day's schedule. They would start early at Good Day Chicago. That meant very little sleep tonight. But there would be an opportunity to catch a few winks on the flight back tomorrow afternoon. Just then his thoughts were interrupted. Something was going on up ahead. Some kind of struggle. He paused for a moment, not out of fear, but curiosity. Then he shouted at the top of his lungs and took off running. Some thugs were attacking Charles!

"Hey!" he shouted, "Leave that guy alone!" One of the masked men turned his head toward the manager and pointed a pistol in his direction. Seeing the gun he dove to the side, just in time to see the muzzle flash out the corner of his eye. He heard the whine of the bullet as it passed through the space where he was a moment ago. There was no fear at the moment. That would come later. He rolled to his feet and saw that Charles was being hauled into a van. The door slammed shut and tires squealed as it took off. The manager ran out into the street unable to do anything except watch as the van disappeared into the night.

"Help! Help!" He cried into the air with tears streaming down his face.