Even though it has, to my knowledge, been demonstrated in modern physics that it is possible for the universe to have come about randomly, some note that even a seemingly random beginning could reasonably be attributed to initial divine agency and will. In fact, they might add, even more than reasonably: the beginning would best be explained through God. This is due to the peculiar qualities of this very universe. Here, it has been possible for life as a biological phenomenon to come about. We have organic nature, and that is, in a sense, remarkable.
Judging by what we know about the initial conditions of our universe, they were just about the only possible ones that could have led to a universe suitable for life. A bunch of interesting facts can be found, for example, in the 2003 book Reason & Religious Belief (p. 93):
”[H]ad ’the Big Bang expanded at a different rate, life would not have evolved. A reduction by one part in a million million at an initial stage would have led to recollapse before temperatures could fall below ten thousand degrees. An early increase by one part in a million would have prevented the growth of galaxies, stars and planets.’ Or had the gravitational force been slightly greater, all the stars would be blue giants whose life span is too short to allow intelligent life to evolve. But had it been slightly less, the universe would be devoid of many elements essential to life.”
The list continues, showing that many intricate details in the cosmic dawn were absolutely necessary preconditions for the much later emergence of organisms. Thus, the argument goes, one could think that the cosmos at its earliest stage was perfectly tuned for the purpose of eventually letting this organic nature come into being. Without those optimal initial ”settings”, we would certainly not exist! According to some, it is best for a rational observer to suppose a divine agent to be responsible for initiating this most unlikely line of development.
All that can seem quite impressive until one starts wondering why we think of organic nature as something remarkable. To start with, I make a guess: in any possible universe, there would probably be some natural phenomenon that could not occur in any other universe. Its presence would be a consequence of the unique initial conditions of that universe. In the universe we live in, there happens to be organic nature, but in other possible ones there would be different ”nearly impossible” phenomena. In a recent public debate in Helsinki, Dr. Peter Payne from the Institute for Credible Christianity maintained that there could be no ”complex structures”, whatever that means (I stress that it was me, not him, who was lacking for learning on astrophysical issues). That being said, it seems unreasonable to think that all the other possible initial conditions would have produced a cosmos with every natural phenomenon we have – except for one: organic nature.
Now what is it that makes organic nature so special? What sets it apart from other unlikely phenomena and supposedly makes it a proof for the existence of God? I dare say there is nothing special about this phenomenon, except for the fact that we are ourselves part of it. That is why we attach meaning to it; would we do so if we were not organisms? Probably not!
Could we even think of existing in a completely non-organic sense? More important: are we (human beings) nothing but organisms? This is quite another debate, but it is sufficient for my present purposes to sketch three basic answers to the question:
Materialist: We are nothing but organisms.
Epiphenomenalist: We are organisms with a mind or a soul that is dependent on organic matter.
Dualist: We are organisms with a mind or a soul that is independent of organic matter.
Of these three, the materialist and epiphenomenalist (from gre. επιφαινομενον, ”above-phenomenon”) would affirm that we owe our existence to the existence of organic nature. The dualist need not do this. My readers might remember, for instance, the Aristotelian Thomistic conception of human beings, where it is held that we possess divinely infused rational souls that function in union with our material bodies. Such souls are necessary for all properly human (as opposed to animal or vegetative) life, and they do not depend on organic matter. Although it is not often articulated in detail, dualism of body and soul is far more common among Christians than is materialism or epiphenomenalism. Even more evident is that God is thought to be a non-organic being, a spirit. And yet he is a living, thinking, perceiving, acting and communicating being.
Imagine for a while that the existing cosmos was totally unsuitable for organic nature: a chaotic, miserable sea of useless matter. Then imagine us two as non-material beings, floating around and discussing the existence of God. Upon observing the material world, I would say: ”I find it hard to believe in a creator God when looking at that mess.” And then you would go: ”Yeah, me too. If there were such a being, matter would certainly be in a nice and intelligible order.” Why wouldn't we then use our own existence as an argument for God's existence? Of course we would, and that's what the Anthropic Argument is doing as well, even though it might be presented as relying purely on technical information about the universe.
If there can be such life – human souls and God, angels, whatnot – independent of organisms, in some spiritual realm, why would the existence of organic nature hint to a divine origin for our universe? In bringing forth living beings capable of thinking and acting, God would have no more use for organic nature than for any other peculiar phenomenon of material character. To suggest that life as a biological phenomenon supports the case for God’s existence is to imply that life as a feature of created things is fundamentally organic, and basically that we could not exist as non-organic beings.
Thus, it is hard for me to see why a strict body-soul dualist would argue from the unlikely existence of organic nature to a nearly certain existence of God the Creator. This is not to say that she has to be a kind of gnostic, declaring material universe absolutely worthless; but it should make no sense to her to present organic nature as something God necessarily makes use of when bringing about life. In her view, life could exist without there being any organisms.
What can we say of the materialist and epiphenomenalist, then? Their position is different to a degree: they see us wholly or primarily as organisms, and thus hold that organic nature is needed for beings like us to exist. If they believe in God the Creator who interacts with living beings, they surely see organic nature as a proof for his existence. If a thinker is not preoccupied with such a religious view, it may be brought about in her mind by an urgent need to explain our existence as organisms. That is what the Anthropic Argument aims at. But the very conviction that life is something ”miraculous” or ”unbelievable”, or indeed anything that cries out for explanation, will remain a subjective, sentimental judgement. My own gut-feeling is that our existence, even though it is full of highly interesting and complicated phenomena, is in itself just a given fact.
Baruch Spinoza once wrote that if a falling stone could reason, it would think, ”I want to fall at the rate of thirty-two feet per second”. I deem it highly probable that the stone would go on reasoning: ”Somebody must have dropped me intentionally.”
Further readings:
Peterson, Michael L. Reason & Religious Belief: An Introduction to the Philosophy of Religion. 3rd ed. New York (NY): Oxford University Press, 2003.
Could we even think of existing in a completely non-organic sense? More important: are we (human beings) nothing but organisms? This is quite another debate, but it is sufficient for my present purposes to sketch three basic answers to the question:
Materialist: We are nothing but organisms.
Epiphenomenalist: We are organisms with a mind or a soul that is dependent on organic matter.
Dualist: We are organisms with a mind or a soul that is independent of organic matter.
Of these three, the materialist and epiphenomenalist (from gre. επιφαινομενον, ”above-phenomenon”) would affirm that we owe our existence to the existence of organic nature. The dualist need not do this. My readers might remember, for instance, the Aristotelian Thomistic conception of human beings, where it is held that we possess divinely infused rational souls that function in union with our material bodies. Such souls are necessary for all properly human (as opposed to animal or vegetative) life, and they do not depend on organic matter. Although it is not often articulated in detail, dualism of body and soul is far more common among Christians than is materialism or epiphenomenalism. Even more evident is that God is thought to be a non-organic being, a spirit. And yet he is a living, thinking, perceiving, acting and communicating being.
Imagine for a while that the existing cosmos was totally unsuitable for organic nature: a chaotic, miserable sea of useless matter. Then imagine us two as non-material beings, floating around and discussing the existence of God. Upon observing the material world, I would say: ”I find it hard to believe in a creator God when looking at that mess.” And then you would go: ”Yeah, me too. If there were such a being, matter would certainly be in a nice and intelligible order.” Why wouldn't we then use our own existence as an argument for God's existence? Of course we would, and that's what the Anthropic Argument is doing as well, even though it might be presented as relying purely on technical information about the universe.
If there can be such life – human souls and God, angels, whatnot – independent of organisms, in some spiritual realm, why would the existence of organic nature hint to a divine origin for our universe? In bringing forth living beings capable of thinking and acting, God would have no more use for organic nature than for any other peculiar phenomenon of material character. To suggest that life as a biological phenomenon supports the case for God’s existence is to imply that life as a feature of created things is fundamentally organic, and basically that we could not exist as non-organic beings.
Thus, it is hard for me to see why a strict body-soul dualist would argue from the unlikely existence of organic nature to a nearly certain existence of God the Creator. This is not to say that she has to be a kind of gnostic, declaring material universe absolutely worthless; but it should make no sense to her to present organic nature as something God necessarily makes use of when bringing about life. In her view, life could exist without there being any organisms.
What can we say of the materialist and epiphenomenalist, then? Their position is different to a degree: they see us wholly or primarily as organisms, and thus hold that organic nature is needed for beings like us to exist. If they believe in God the Creator who interacts with living beings, they surely see organic nature as a proof for his existence. If a thinker is not preoccupied with such a religious view, it may be brought about in her mind by an urgent need to explain our existence as organisms. That is what the Anthropic Argument aims at. But the very conviction that life is something ”miraculous” or ”unbelievable”, or indeed anything that cries out for explanation, will remain a subjective, sentimental judgement. My own gut-feeling is that our existence, even though it is full of highly interesting and complicated phenomena, is in itself just a given fact.
Baruch Spinoza once wrote that if a falling stone could reason, it would think, ”I want to fall at the rate of thirty-two feet per second”. I deem it highly probable that the stone would go on reasoning: ”Somebody must have dropped me intentionally.”
Further readings:
Peterson, Michael L. Reason & Religious Belief: An Introduction to the Philosophy of Religion. 3rd ed. New York (NY): Oxford University Press, 2003.
