In a recent series of articles on the characteristics of the four fundamental forces of nature, I highlighted some crucial phenomena in the universe that each of these forces help facilitate. Some, if not most, life-essential features of our universe, such as the existence of shining stars, depend upon not just one force, but contributions from all four forces.
For stars to exist, gravity must conglomerate gas into a dense protostar, while the electromagnetic force acts via gas pressure to halt the inwardly crushing force of gravity before the gas collapses into black hole. The long-term shining of the star is sustained by energy released through fusion, dependent upon the strong nuclear force and mediated by the weak force, producing strategic particle transformations to further the fusion process.
The process of stellar nucleosynthesis throughout the history of the universe has resulted in the formation of varying amounts of all the elements listed on periodic table charts commonly adorning the walls of science classrooms. Interatomic attractions produced by the electromagnetic force have produced a wide variety of molecular substances in nature, including some obvious ones crucial for life as we know it: water (H2O), oxygen gas (O2), carbon dioxide (CO2), various mineral salts, etc.
Limits on the Four Forces
The three most familiar fundamental forces manifest primarily to simply push or pull particles of matter (with the weak force acting in radioactive decay). Can these same forces of nature push or pull particles into the functioning molecular and cellular components necessary for life?
A most pertinent question in this regard is what limits are inherent in nature on what the forces can accomplish. Here’s a backyard example involving the force of gravity and the electromagnetic (or “contact”) force. This morning, I went on a walk around our neighborhood, and my way took me under a tree that had shed lots of small, red berries that were scattered on the sidewalk. I tried to avoid stepping on them, which was difficult at first where they were most concentrated under the tree. But as I walked on, the number of berries became scarcer and until there were none. As I thought about this, I wondered if the tree had held more berries, would the landing place of the last berry have been further from the tree? Most likely.
So, what if the tree had held an infinite number of berries (indulge me a bit here). Does it stand to reason that the furthest berry that fell would then come to rest an infinite distance from the tree? No! Believing such a thing exposes a misunderstanding about what can happen naturally: infinite opportunities do not lead to an infinite variety of all outcomes, and here’s why. Natural limitations prevent it. For a berry to fall infinitely far from the tree would require it to somehow acquire an infinite amount of kinetic energy. What could do this? Perhaps an infinitely tall tree, or an infinitely fast wind, neither of which exists.
Appealing to Chance
But let’s consider one other scenario, appealing to chance. From our infinite tree, imagine that every berry fell at just the right time and bounced off the branches in just the right way, so that each one collided with the target berry in just the right way to progressively impart to it greater and greater kinetic energy of motion, resulting in that one berry acquiring an infinite initial velocity away from the tree. Why couldn’t this happen “naturally”? Again, because of the physical limitations of nature. In the real world, each berry that falls always has many more ways to fall that would miss the target berry than ways that would hit it just right.
The chance outcome of a berry gaining infinite kinetic energy doesn’t depend upon just one or a few lucky collisions, but on an infinite sequence of finely tuned trajectories. Yet, reality prevents such a sequence from ever happening by chance, since each berry is much more likely to miss the target than to hit it just right. The net probability therefore gets lower and lower the more collisions are needed to achieve the goal of propelling a berry to land further from the tree by this cumulative random process.
The Problem of Statistical Interference
The “infinitely-far-berry-enthusiasts” would be undaunted, however, concluding that there is a chance, and even a non-zero one, if the goal is not an infinite distance from the tree, but just a long way. But hopes such as these also get dashed against the rocks of reality, and here’s why. It’s a problem called “statistical interference.” To ratchet up the target berry’s velocity away from the tree, not only do all the other berries have to hit it just right, but (and here’s the catch) the target berry also has to avoid collisions that oppose its forward motion. The presence of infinitely many falling berries guarantees that the overwhelming majority of collisions will actually drive the berry into the ground rather than propel it faster along its way to the far reaches of the universe.
The upshot of this example is that randomness doesn’t help to achieve such an unlikely outcome. More berries can’t help. More time wouldn’t help. The old, hackneyed example that any combination of cards will occur if you shuffle a deck of cards enough is obviously inappropriate for arguing that anything can happen, given enough time. Physical limitations guarantee that no matter how many times you shuffle a deck of 52 cards, you’re not going to ever get a sequence with 100 cards. But, beyond this, the card-shuffling example is irrelevant for considering if random natural processes could produce the complex molecules of life, since card-shuffling completely lacks the physical reality of statistical interference, which inexorably foils the production of any unguided, sequentially assembled, complex, functional molecule.
A House on the Beach
A more appropriate example for considering if chance arrangements of matter could produce a complex protein, like hemoglobin, would be to consider the probability of completing a free-standing house of cards on a beach on a windy day by tossing cards one at a time into the air. By some luck, one or two cards might land so that they leaned against one another (“Look, we’re making progress!”), but before any more cards could be blown by the wind to land in such a way to extend the structure, the wind would much more likely knock apart whatever was started. Again, at each step in the process, there would be many more ways to go wrong than right — such is the unavoidable dilemma of looking to natural processes to produce information-rich outcomes.
With multiple required steps, such as sequentially aligning the correct amino acids to assemble a functional protein, the probability of success decreases exponentially with each additional step. This is a law of nature, and it’s analogous to why heat doesn’t naturally flow from cold to hot (as proscribed by the second law of thermodynamics).
As a result of these limitations — finite physical resources and statistical interference — many things in this universe are simply impossible for the forces of nature to accomplish. Our universe not only has limited physical resources, but also informational limits, and the only way to overcome these is to select the correct outcomes according to intelligent design.