Skip to main content

a non-Behean form of irreducible complexity... and an evolution-friendly (and theism friendly) solution to the apparent problem that attends irreducible complexity

I'm thinking here about the relation between desire, imagination and self-movement: how do these arise in animals so that they operate seemlessly together?

The answer to this question shows that an evolutionary theory that is emergent rather than reductive is far less problematic.  But since emergent evolutionism is also open to theism (without being subject to the charge of supernaturalism lodged against ID), it follows that openness to theism makes, in this case, for better natural science.

Let's begin

Let's start by separating the problem of motion from that of cognition and appetite:  I suppose one can move a la zombie without perceiving or desiring: so one could simplify the problem somewhat.  Movement can arise on its own, without the other two.  But whence the other two?  And how is it that they seem so interwoven with each other and with self-movement?

It is hard (or impossible) to conceive of the interwoven operations of all three as a mechanical process.  That's because the source of these three facets of animal life would seem to be three different pieces of DNA relating to 3 different pieces of the human being (three different parts of the brain, I suppose).  To put the problem in question form:  how do they function as three moments of a complex operation rather than three perhaps mutually influencing processes?

It seems that human (and other animal) life exhibits something better called irreducible simplicity than irreducible complexity.

The above is a problem for a mechanistic view of human nature in the here and now.  Let's shift to the problem that the evolution of the same characteristics likewise present to mechanistic evolution (as opposed to emergent evolution).

To those who regard evolution as mere complexification rather than as emergence I would posit the following question: how could one part of the three-part puzzle come into being through random variation without the other two?  If it did appear without the other two characteristics, how could such a characteristic increase the adaptivity of the organism?  Or wouldn't it be required that all three appear together in order to provide any adaptive advantage?  But isn't such a complex pairing many times more improbable than the genesis of one of the characteristics?  That is, wouldn't the improbability of all three occurring together initially be the cube of the improbability of any particular one of them coming into being at all?

And then we get to a host of other problems.

But this is all a pseudo problem IF [emergence is true AND--what naturally follows, if] there is something LIKE desire/imagination at the pre-animal level, something that could serve as the basis of the emergence of animal consciousness, desire and self-movement.

But that would imply that even the pre-animal yet animate level of nature operate when moved by something  analogous to desire.  And a similar analysis could be applied to how the organic arises from the pre- organic.

One could rightfully say that all of nature is... teleological, albeit while using this term in a thoroughly analogous manner.

I am not affirming emergence as much as I am showing that, inasmuch as it is superior to material reductionism, it also brings with it an understanding of nature that looks more Aristotelian (yes, no more stability of forms, but lots of teleology).

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Dembski's "specified compexity" semiotics and teleology (both ad intra and ad extra)

Integral to Dembski's idea of specified complexity (SC) is the notion that something extrinsic to evolution is the source of the specification in how it develops. He compares SC to the message sent by space aliens in the movie "Contact." In that movie, earthbound scientists determine that radio waves originating in from somewhere in our galaxy are actually a signal being sent by space aliens. The scientists determine that these waves are a signal is the fact that they indicate prime numbers in a way that a random occurrence would not. What is interesting to me is the fact that Dembski relies upon an analogy with a sign rather than a machine. Like a machine, signs are produced by an intelligent being for the sake of something beyond themselves. Machines, if you will, have a meaning. Signs, if you will, produce knowledge. But the meaning/knowledge is in both cases something other than the machine/sign itself. Both signs and machines are purposeful or teleological

continuing the discussion with Tim in a new post

Hi Tim, I am posting my reply here, because the great blogmeister won't let me put it all in a comment. Me thinks I get your point: is it that we can name and chimps can't, so therefore we are of greater value than chimps? Naming is something above and beyond what a chimp can do, right? In other words, you are illustrating the point I am making (if I catch your drift). My argument is only a sketch, but I think adding the ability to name names, as it were, is still not enough to make the argument seem cogent. For one can still ask why we prefer being able to name over other skills had by animals but not by humans. The objector would demand a more convincing reason. The answer I have in mind is, to put it briefly, that there is something infinite about human beings in comparison with the subhuman. That "something" has to do with our ability to think of the meaning of the cosmos. Whereas one might say"He's got the whole world in His han

particular/universal event/rule

While listening to a recorded lecture on Quine's Two Dogmas of Empiricism, it occurred to me that every rule is in a way, a fact about the world. Think about baseball: from the p.o.v. of an individual player, a baseball rule is not a thing but a guide for acting and interpreting the actions of others.  But this rule, like the action it guides, is part of a concrete individual --i.e., part of an institution that has come into existence at a particular place and time, has endured and  may eventually go out of existence.  The baseball rule, as a feature of that individual, is likewise individual.  The term "baseball rule," on the one hand, links us to a unique cultural event; it can, on the other hand, name a certain type of being.  In this way, it transgresses the boundary between proper and common noun. If there were no such overlap, then we might be tempted to divide our ontology between a bunch of facts "out there" and a bunch of common nouns "in here.&qu