Thirty years ago Allan Bloom wrote his bestseller, “The Closing of the American Mind,” in which he noted his observation that over his teaching career students had become much more relativistic in their epistemology, in how they regarded knowledge and learning. He further observed that what was remarkable was not this relativism, per se, but the dogmatism with which it was held. This, then, led to the closing of the American mind because this belief that all ideas are equal made students less willing to trade their own prejudices for the accumulated knowledge and brilliant insights of thinkers from the past.
I think that this attitude of unthinking dogmatism is evident as well today by many who weigh in on the broad subject of “evolution,” that wax nose of a word which can be shaped to mean a number of different things. That attitude, quite frankly, is intolerable. Human beings ought to be in the business of seeking after truth, finding out what reality is like, and engaging those with whom we might disagree in a spirit of respect.
Instead, what often happens is people are only interested in reaffirming what they already believe, and they are quick to smear, dismiss, and attribute the worst motives to those with other ideas. I am speaking of philosophical naturalists who can sniff out a “creationist” lurking behind any idea which challenges Darwinian evolution. But I am also speaking of creationists who see a compromise with “atheistic” evolution behind even a consideration that the earth might be old.
So rather than dismiss this book as worthless because it comes from the Discovery Institute, (and we already know that everything that comes from those guys is false,) if the reader could just put aside his prejudices and give the author a chance to build his case, he or she might be in for a real treat.
Now, the author didn’t do himself any favours with his choice of title, because what he is really talking about being in crisis is Darwinian evolution, not evolution broadly speaking, which can mean just about anything that involves change over time. In fact, what he is proposing as an alternative to Darwinism is not special creation, but another theory of evolution.
This theory of evolution, called “structuralism” or “typology,” is pretty much the antithesis of Darwinism because it advocates a top-down generation of complexity, one where complexity is built into the structure of nature, hard-wired, as it were, and it becomes actualized in a law-like fashion. Darwinian microevolution still occurs, but macroevolution, such as the generation of novel body plans, is the result of evolutionary saltations, or leaps, along particular pre-established pathways.
This concept of emergence, where forms and properties which are not foreseeable “from below” arise spontaneously in certain configurations of matter, is already an accepted principle in chemistry. For example, it applies to both the emergent properties of water as compared to those of its constituent parts, hydrogen and oxygen, and to the forms that water adopts under the agency of natural law. Denton concludes that “if water under the agency of natural law can be shaped into such diverse natural forms, it is hard to refuse the possibility that complex, unexpected, emergent form, from the molecular to the organismic level, may also arise under the agency of natural law in biological systems” (p. 274).
He continues: “If typology is right, then life on earth must be assumed to be an integral part of the world-order, its forms no less “intended” than the forms of the inorganic world, and life on earth the outcome of a generative program analogous to that which generates the atoms of the periodic table in the stars” (p. 275).
In contrast to the top-down rule of structuralism, Darwinism, as a form of “functionalism,” would build complexity in a bottom-up fashion, by cumulative incremental changes which are the results of adaptation to environment. If the clock could be rewound to the first cell, Darwinism would almost certainly give us a different picture of life than what we see today because what unfolded was not governed by a set of natural laws. Thus all the life we see around us, including ourselves, is utterly contingent.
But if the apparent beauty, order, design and purpose of the natural world, including us, is actually real, it would seem to me that on the face of it we ought to prefer an evolutionary theory that can account for these things, rather than one that cannot, and in fact claims they are illusory. Beauty and elegance has in fact a long history in scientific vocabulary and in criteria for evaluating or appreciating the adequacy of particular theories.
So what exactly are these laws that govern the emergence of biological complexity, according to structuralism? We don’t know. What we do know, Denton says, is that “a vast amount of organic order is clearly epigenetic [not residing in the genes] and far beyond any sort of genetic reduction, and [thus] it will be the task of twenty-first-century biology to characterize and determine the basic nature of the self-organizational processes involved” (p. 263).
What Denton says about genetics bears repeating because it is absolutely not controversial and has been borne out by many, many studies in the field of “evo-devo” (evolutionary developmental biology). Darwinism has everything residing in the genes, hence the term “genetic blueprint” that we have heard for years. However the reality is that the idea of genes containing a blueprint has become an inadequate model. Although genes carry the parts lists, the building blocks, for cells, there is no evidence that they contain the instruction manual for putting them together to produce a living cell (p. 255).
The structuralism versus functionalism debate actually goes back to the nineteenth century, with Richard Owen being the champion of the former and Charles Darwin being the champion of the latter. The last century has of course belonged to Darwin, but this book presents some compelling reasons why not only Darwin’s theory is proving to be unsatisfactory, but also why we might consider giving Owen a second look.
This should be completely disarming to nervous methodological naturalists (holding the view that nature is a closed system of natural causes and effects) who, like geneticist Richard Lewontin, are adamant to not let “a divine foot in the door,” because both theories are methodologically equivalent in this sense. Both invoke common descent, while one (Darwinist functionalism) appeals to cumulative small changes driven by natural selection, while the other (structuralism) would see big jumps (saltation) driven by some as-yet mysterious laws built into the fabric of nature.
Granted, speaking of “internal causal factors” as Denton does is a bit vague. But the fact that structuralism is in its infancy and needs much further development is almost beside the point. Because what Denton has done is to articulate the outlines of an alternative theory of evolution that is as scientific as Darwinism. This is impressive given that such a claim stands even by conceding the dubious definition of what makes something “scientific” which the courts have insisted upon. In other words, for the sake of argument, you could concede the demarcationist criteria for science spelled out at the 1981 Arkansas creation trial, and structuralism would meet those criteria.
I hope that the ideas put forward in this book will make defenders of this definition of science less skittish in discussing the explanatory difficulties of Darwinian evolution. If one is a methodological naturalist, one is not faced with a choice between Darwin and nothing. But it just may be that we’ll end up swapping out the statue of Darwin for that of Owen in biology’s hall of fame.