The physics of design?

 Physics, Information Loss, and Intelligent Design

Eric Hedin

In an earlier article, I showed that information ratchets do not exist in nature. The most that any mechanistic system can do is to reproduce the information already available within the system. Printing presses reproduce the typeset information placed in the mechanism by human operators. ChatGPT simply accesses and rearranges information originated by humans and uploaded on the Internet. No new information is produced in either case.

In a recent article, I introduced the physical concept of the generalized second law of thermodynamics, as a governing principle consistent with the Law of Conservation of Information, which William Dembski formulated with the claim that natural causes cannot increase complex specified information in a closed system over time. Here, I’ll seek to provide an explanation of the physics behind the generalized second law — a rationale for why natural processes destroy information.

A Starting Point

First, let’s consider something that may be more easily visualized than information flow. Imagine a system where heat flows from a hot region to a cold region under the constraint of the traditional second law of thermodynamics. The Clausius statement of the traditional second law of thermodynamics tells us that nature works in such a way that heat never flows the other way around. When I add cold cream to my hot coffee, heat flows from the coffee into the cream, until the mixture comes to an equilibrium temperature. The one-way flow of heat is irreversible by natural causes, and the reason is based in the physics of how nature works.

We say an object is “hot” when the average kinetic energy of its component atoms is high. My hot coffee has molecules with higher kinetic energy, on average, than the molecules of the cold cream. When they are mixed in the cup, collisions between atoms occur. First-year physics students will be familiar with a problem asking for the final velocities of two colliding objects, in terms of their initial velocities. For head-on elastic collisions, using the laws of conservation of energy and momentum, the result is always that the slower object ends up moving faster and the faster object ends up moving slower. Cream added to hot coffee unavoidably gives a mixture in which the coffee has lost heat to the cream.

What about the less physical concept of information? How can we physically explain the relentless loss of information by natural processes? Information seems to be a nonphysical concept, but in our universe, it is stored in specific arrangements of physical states of matter. An intelligent mind can recognize specific arrangements of matter (such as molecules of ink that form letters on a page) that convey a meaningful message. In a different context, biochemists can recognize particular sequences of nucleotide bases in a genome that code for a functional protein. 

Linking Information and Observer

All the information that can be known by an observer about a system of any kind is contained within the quantum mechanical wavefunction of the system. My apologies for bringing up quantum mechanics, but its relevance here is that it serves as the link between the information of a system (anything from a single atom to a complex biomolecule to a macroscopic object) and an observer. Unless the wave function of the system is completely isolated from any environmental influence, it will suffer decoherence (loss of information) with the passage of time. In one sense, the wavefunction spreads out into the environment, meaning that the observer will have greater and greater uncertainty as to the state of the system as time goes on. The physical interaction of atoms or photons uncompromisingly causes this effect, with its resulting loss of information.

Some might argue that “luck” could result in an opposite outcome, with interactions causing an increase in information (in biochemistry, this would correlate with increased functional complexity). Why couldn’t this happen? Simply because there are always more ways to go wrong than to go right, when considering whether interactions will result in chaos or increased complex specified information. 

An increase in information requires not just one right choice (or lucky draw), but a long sequence of correct choices. Luck might happen once, but any gambler knows that if “lucky outcomes” keep happening against the odds, then the game is rigged. A “rigged game” in nature corresponds to a law of physics — in this case, a law causing information to increase over time by natural causes. Such a law cannot really exist, however, since we already have a law of nature that says the opposite. As I mentioned in a recent article, “Theistic Cosmology and Theistic Evolution — Understanding the Difference”: 

In our study of science, we have found that the laws of nature do not contradict one another. We don’t have laws of nature that only apply piecemeal.

Imagination and Freedom

Only by the action of non-physical intelligence can the natural process of decoherence and information loss be overcome. Information is meaningless apart from a rational mind, meaning the creation of new information requires more than knowledge. Increased information requires imagination and the freedom to creatively design complex outcomes that convey meaning or exhibit function. (See, “Intelligence Is Unnatural, and Why That Matters.”)

The non-physical aspect of our intelligent minds can succeed in producing information because an intelligent mind can imagine a meaningful outcome and act to separate the components of a complex system from their natural mixed state into specific arrangements that actualize that outcome. This takes work, meaning it requires energy, but not energy alone, since without the guidance of a non-physical mind, energy cannot succeed in increasing information in a closed system. Intelligent design remains the only explanation consistent with the laws of physics for the increasing information content of living systems throughout life’s history on Earth.

Peace on earth : the real final frontier?

 William Shatner and Our Privileged Planet

Gunter Bechly

William Shatner wrote about the experience of space flight, back in December in The Guardian:

Last year, at the age of 90, I had a life-changing experience. I went to space, after decades of playing a science-fiction character who was exploring the universe and building connections with many diverse life forms and cultures. I thought I would experience a similar feeling: a feeling of deep connection with the immensity around us, a deep call for endless exploration. A call to indeed boldly go where no one had gone before.

I was absolutely wrong. As I explained in my latest book, what I felt was totally different. I knew that many before me had experienced a greater sense of care while contemplating our planet from above, because they were struck by the apparent fragility of this suspended blue marble. I felt that too. But the strongest feeling, dominating everything else by far, was the deepest grief that I had ever experienced.

While I was looking away from Earth, and turned towards the rest of the universe, I didn’t feel connection; I didn’t feel attraction. What I understood, in the clearest possible way, was that we were living on a tiny oasis of life, surrounded by an immensity of death. I didn’t see infinite possibilities of worlds to explore, of adventures to have, or living creatures to connect with. I saw the deepest darkness I could have ever imagined, contrasting starkly with the welcoming warmth of our nurturing home planet.

I worry about the world my grandchildren will be living in when they are my age

This was an immensely powerful awakening for me. It filled me with sadness. I realised that we had spent decades, if not centuries, being obsessed with looking away, with looking outside. I played my part in popularising the idea that space was the final frontier. But I had to get to space to understand that Earth is, and will remain, our only home. And that we have been ravaging it, relentlessly, making it uninhabitable.

Shatner‘s surprising revelation may be interpreted by some as an environmentalist creed, but I rather see it as a poetical formulation of the fine-tuning of Earth for life. It shows that atheists like Bill Nye are wrong when they say we are just an insignificant speck of dust in an average galaxy. We clearly are special and significant and certainly not an accident.

On a related subject, I was asked recently, “Why would a God create such an enormous universe and only give life to one tiny speck of dust?” Well, imagine you would like to teach two important lessons to your creatures: 1) you are very special; 2) but don‘t become a megalomaniac because God is infinitely greater than you. The universe would get both points across pretty well.

Privatize everything?

 

Titans in the arena.

 

Darwin cross examined?

 

The Americas: a brief history.

 

On propaganda and propagandists?

 

Return of the soldier of fortune?

 

The future of aviation?

 

Another clash of Titans.

 

The ins and outs of black holes?

 

SETI And the elephant in the room.

 The Search for ET Artifacts Misses the Elephant.

Jonathan Witt

Now that NASA’s freakishly powerful James Webb Space Telescope is fully operational, there is renewed chatter about the possibility of discovering extra-terrestrial life. Our galaxy alone is filled with hundreds of billions of stars, and the thinking among many space geeks is that some of these are bound to support living planets, and some of those are bound to have fostered intelligent creatures who have developed technology capable of sending radio signals and even spaceships to distant star systems, including our own.

An Elusive Mediocrity

Then there are the skeptics. In the summer of 1950, four top physicists were discussing the possibility that the universe is teaming with advanced extra-terrestrials. Later, when they sat down to lunch, one of them blurted, “But where is everybody?” In other words, if the universe is chock full of extra-terrestrial space cowboys, why aren’t we overrun with them? Instead, at the time there was not one verified piece of evidence of any extra-terrestrials, the various dodgy UFO reports in the popular media of the day notwithstanding. 

The man who posed the question was Italian-American physicist Enrico Fermi, and his puzzler has come to be known as “Fermi’s Paradox.” The paradox persists because there still isn’t a single verified piece of evidence for extraterrestrials, and this despite hundreds of millions of dollars spent searching for them.

Of course, the situation is only puzzling if we assume nature burps up living planets and intelligent life as effortlessly as Michigan highways breed potholes in spring. Fermi’s Paradox dissolves if one assumes that a living planet like ours is extraordinarily rare, perhaps even unique. The problem is that such an explanation runs afoul of a principle cherished by many cosmologists, known as the mediocrity principle. According to this idea, not only are we not the center of the universe, we aren’t special in any way, and to think otherwise is egotistical superstitious benighted Medieval nonsense.

Many opponents of Christianity cherish the mediocrity principle because it undercuts the Judeo-Christian belief that humans are special, the crown of God’s creation. But even some anti-religious materialists have nevertheless abandoned the mediocrity principle, for one or both of two reasons. 

First, there is mounting evidence planets like Earth may be highly unusual, requiring as they do a long list of fortuitously fine-tuned parameters to support life. Second, even with a habitable planet to work with, nature faces the daunting challenge of conjuring a planet’s first life from non-life. Before you can invoke a Darwinian process of random mutation and natural selection, you first need a self-reproducing biological entity, and it’s increasingly clear that even the simplest such cell is extraordinarily sophisticated. How does a lifeless mix of chemicals in a primordial ocean toss together something like that? If it is even possible, it is a freak occurrence, like winning a multi-million-dollar lottery forty years in a row without anyone gaming the system. 

The ET Enlightenment Myth

So, then, maybe we are the only intelligent creatures in the universe, a freak one-off in the history of the cosmos. Some conclude this and go even further to insist that we are utterly alone, without even a God in heaven to fill the void of cosmic loneliness. 

Yes, pretty dark, and I would guess, a pretty unpopular position, perhaps because humans are strongly attracted to the idea that some sort of wise savior figure is out there — if not, God, then ancestral spirits or pagan gods or, in a contemporary incarnation, superhumanly wise and powerful ETs. The films 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) and Contact (1997) are just two of the many science fiction stories that trade on this theme. 

In Unbelievable: 7 Myths about the History and Future of Science and Religion, historian of science Michael Keas dedicates a chapter to what he calls the “ET enlightenment myth.” He says the cultural loss of faith in a creator God has left a void, and “the ET enlightenment myth now fills that void for many people.”

The Search for Alien Artifacts

Between those animated by this ET salvation myth and those who are simply curious about what is out there among all the billions of stars in the universe, there is a lot of interest in seeing if we have the means and the ingenuity to uncover evidence of extra-terrestrials. To that end, Space.com recently published a piece by Paul Sutter, “If Aliens Have Visited the Solar System, Here’s How to Find Clues They Left.” Sutter shifts the focus from the longstanding Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence (SETI) to a companion strategy: 

So far, all searches for extraterrestrial life have come up empty. But there is another avenue that is relatively unexplored: the search for extraterrestrial artifacts (SETA). The idea behind this approach is that if aliens become advanced enough, they might want to explore the galaxy.… In the roughly 4.5-billion-year history of the solar system, these aliens would have had plenty of time to swing by our neighborhood and maybe leave a mark.

Sutter then distills a recent paper in which astronomers describe various types of alien remnants we might be able to discover, including “spacecraft, probes and even just trash,” either in space or on the surface of a planet or moon.

How would we tell a piece of ET tech from a natural space object? In many cases it might be a no-brainer, but not necessarily. For instance, it could be a fragment of advanced technology so foreign to ours that we wouldn’t immediately recognize it as technology. And we might have to decide from only a grainy telescopic photograph of the object. 

Nevertheless, Sutter is confident there are many ways we might detect ET artifacts or their aftermath. For instance, any spacecraft able to travel from a distant star system would possess an extraordinarily powerful propulsion system, potentially rendering its exhaust trail visible to the James Webb Space Telescope or the Chandra X-ray Observatory. Alternately, “If aliens opened up a strip mine on Mercury, for example, we would still be able to see it today.” “Or… we may be able to find geochemical anomalies — the result of tinkering with chemical processes on a world (or just outright pollution).”

Hunting for ET artifacts may sound fringe, but it’s being pursued by mainstream astronomers.

SETI, SETA, and Design Detection

Set aside the question of whether such pursuits are money well spent. Consider instead a significant feature of both SETA and SETI. SETI got a major PR boost from the movie Contact, based on a novel by astronomer Carl Sagan. SETI employs radio telescopes to search the heavens for signals from extra-terrestrial civilizations. 

In Contact, a scientist detects a curious signal from the star system Vega, one that repeats a sequence of prime numbers. While the scenario is fictional, it conveys how SETI could readily determine if a signal was indeed from an alien intelligence rather than purely natural, such as the regular radio wave pulses emitted by a neutron star. A signal that embedded a long series of prime numbers isn’t something natural processes can generate. It’s an instance of complex specified information. If the signal embedded the same number over and over, it wouldn’t be complex — e.g., 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, etc. If it embedded a random series of numbers, it wouldn’t be specified. That is, it wouldn’t match an obvious purpose or preexisting pattern. The series of prime numbers embedded in the signal in Contact, however, does. It’s both specified and complex. In our experience, the creation of specified complexity — also known as complex specified information — is strictly the purview of intelligent agents, who, unlike natural processes, routinely generate such information in the form of novels, poems, text messages, software programs, and other artifacts. 

There is much to explore in the logical steps involved in reasoning to intelligent design as the best explanation in such cases, but the gist of it runs like this: both reason and our uniform experience strongly suggest that natural processes do not and cannot produce specified complexity. The one type of cause we have ever witnessed doing so is creative intelligence. So creative intelligence is the best explanation when we find examples of it. 

Strategies for differentiating extra-terrestrial artifacts from natural objects involve similar reasoning. Recall that Sutter says we might discover an ET artifact by looking for “geochemical anomalies — the result of tinkering with chemical processes on a world.” How would we know if a geochemical anomaly was the result of ET activity? Presumably by considering various explanations for the anomalies, both natural and artificial. If the anomalies are beyond the reach of natural processes to produce and possess the signature of intelligent design — that is, specified complexity — the researchers could reasonably infer that the geochemical anomalies were the product of intelligent design.

The Elephant in the Room 

Both SETA and SETI share something in common with the theory of intelligent design (ID). They are searching for evidence of the past creative activity of extra-terrestrial intelligence. The principal difference is that ID researchers do so without question-begging constraints on their search. If nature itself possesses the signature of intelligent activity, so be it. Follow the evidence. Contemporary microscopic technology has uncovered molecular biological machines of astonishing sophistication, far beyond our most advanced technologies. Even the simplest cell capable of self-reproduction is a nanotech factory that puts our most advanced factories to shame, and it requires reams of precisely sequenced biological information, much of it found in the four-character alphabet of DNA.

Physicist and engineer Brian Miller points out that mainstream systems biology operates on the working assumption that biological systems are optimally engineered systems. Many systems biologists, he says, pay lip service to evolutionary theory, but they don’t approach the biological systems they study as contraptions thrown together by mindless natural forces. They approach them as masterpieces of engineering, an approach that is proving extraordinarily fruitful. 

Miller offers an analogy. Imagine that what appears to be a highly advanced alien spacecraft is discovered abandoned in the desert. It’s quite different from our spaceships, right down to the materials used in it. Half the scientists who arrive to study it refuse to believe it’s an alien spacecraft and insist instead that it originated through purely natural processes — rain, wind, erosion, perhaps an odd volcanic eruption. The other half decides that, no, it really is an alien spacecraft, and they set about trying to understand how the various parts are meant to contribute to its overall function. Which group, Miller asks, do you think will make better progress toward understanding the alien craft? The group, of course, who recognize that it’s the work of intelligent and purposive design

The same goes for biology. Those practicing systems biology are making much more progress than those committed to the old, reductionist Darwinian approach. 

Intelligent design biologists are in the camp of the systems biologists, but where they stand out from rank-and-file systems biologists is in adapting the design rubric frankly and wholeheartedly. That is, they are convinced that treating biological systems as works of high-tech engineering is proving fruitful precisely because the biological systems really are the work of high-tech engineering, in this case, an extra-terrestrial intelligence far beyond any depicted in Contact or 2001: A Space Odyssey.