Unlocking the Mystery: The Second Law's Impact on Darwin Skepticism
Is the evolution of life on Earth a violation of the laws of physics? This question has sparked intense debates among Darwin skeptics and scientists alike. When we compare the barren landscapes of other planets to the bustling cities on Earth, it seems like an 'unnatural' phenomenon has occurred. But how can we explain this to the scientific community without sounding unscientific?
The second law of thermodynamics, a cornerstone of science, states that in an isolated system, order naturally declines into disorder. However, Earth is not isolated; it's an open system receiving energy from the Sun. This fact has led to a common rebuttal: 'The second law doesn't apply here because entropy can decrease in open systems.'
But there's more to it. The second law is fundamentally about probability. The improbability of order increasing in an isolated system is what the law is all about. When a system is open, the laws of probability don't disappear; they just require us to consider what's crossing the system's boundary to determine if an increase in order is still highly improbable.
Here's a thought: If an increase in order is highly unlikely in an isolated system, it remains so in an open system unless something enters that makes this increase less improbable. This is a crucial distinction. When applied to Earth, it means that the emergence of complex structures like computers isn't just about energy input; specific components must enter the system to make their appearance less improbable.
This concept is further illustrated by considering tornados. They derive energy from the Sun, but would we expect a tornado to run backward, transforming rubble into houses and cars, without violating the second law? The argument for compensation, used by Isaac Asimov and others, faces a challenge here.
In a 2013 BIO-Complexity paper, the author concedes that those defending the second law's principle must argue that, given specific conditions, the spontaneous rearrangement of atoms into complex machines is not astronomically improbable from a microscopic perspective, thanks to solar energy and mechanisms like natural selection.
Darwinists might argue that this is precisely what their theory explains. But what does this mean for the second law argument? It shifts the burden of proof. Scientists often believe that naturalism can explain everything, so if you doubt an entirely natural explanation for Earth's complexity, you must prove it wrong. However, if we witnessed a tornado reversing its effects, we wouldn't need to dissect the theory; doubt would be the default reaction.
So, what sets a tornado running backward apart from civilization emerging on a barren planet? Both seem incredibly improbable and potentially violate the second law's underlying principle. The key difference lies in the specific conditions and mechanisms that make these events more or less probable.
In conclusion, anyone claiming to have a scientific explanation for such improbable events must provide compelling evidence. Whether it's the evolution of life or the rearrangement of particles into iPhones, the burden of proof is substantial. And this is where the debate intensifies: Can natural selection and random mutations truly account for the complexity we observe, or is there more to the story?
