On Mon, 22 May 1995 13:18:54 -0500 you wrote:
BH>The chief one I've noticed is a trendency to insist that the theory
>of evolution demands _improvement_ generation after generation.
SJ> Maybe not "generation after generation", but slow and steady
> continuum of "improvement" just the same:
>I think "steady" and "improvement" are both debatable.
Agreed. I was giving what Darwinists believe (up to very recently
anyway).
>Evolution is
>adaptation by a population to its environment. A change persists and
>propagates because it gives a reproductive advantage -- perhaps because of
>a change in environment. But if the environment returned to its former
>state, then the former population [without the adaptation]could have a
>reproductive advantage and become reestablished.
Yes. For this reason I don't believe that the development of the
living world can only be "adaptation by a population to its
environment". That would just be a treadmill going nowhere.
> Which change is
>"improvement"? What's steady? "Improvement" is a term that implies goals,
>or that there might be some purpose attached to change. _I believe_ that
>one reason some creationists object so strenuously to evolutionary theory
>is that somehow purpose seems to "evolve" out of nonpurpose.
Yes. It's a conjuror's trick.
>And they are
>correct in their objections, if that is what the other side is arguing.
>Richard Dawkins and Carl Sagan may very well be arguing just that.
Of course they are. This is the mythological aspect of evolution.
Read this:
"For unknown ages after the explosive outpouring of matter and energy
of the Big Bang, the Cosmos was without form. There were no galaxies,
no planets, no life. Deep, impenetrable darkness was everywhere,
hydrogen atoms in the void. Here and there denser accumulations of
gas were imperceptibly growing, globes of matter were
condensing-hydrogen raindrops more massive than suns. Within these
globes of gas was first kindled the nuclear fire latent in matter. A
first generation of stars was born, flooding the Cosmos with light.
There were in those times not yet any planets to receive the light, no
living creatures to admire the radiance of the heavens. Deep in the
stellar furnaces the alchemy of nuclear fusion created heavy elements,
the ashes of hydrogen burning, the atomic building materials of future
planets and lifeforms. Massive stars soon exhausted their stores of
nuclear fuel. Rocked by colossal explosions, they returned most of
their substance back into the thin gas from which they had once
condensed. Here in the dark lush clouds between the stars, new
raindrops made of many elements were forming, later generations of
stars being born. Nearby, smaller raindrops grew, bodies far too
little to ignite the nuclear fire, droplets in the interstellar mist
on their way to form the planets. Among them was a
small world of stone and iron, the early Earth.
Congealing and warming, the Earth released the methane ammonia, water
and hydrogen gases that had been trapped within, forming the primitive
atmosphere and the first oceans. Starlight from the Sun bathed and
warmed the primeval Earth, drove storms, generated lightning and
thunder. Volcanoes overflowed with lava. These processes disrupted
molecules of the primitive atmosphere; the fragments fell back
together
again into more and more complex forms, which dissolved in the early
oceans. After a time the seas achieved the consistency of a warm,
dilute soup. Molecules were organized and complex chemical reactions
driven, on the surface of clays. And one day a molecule arose that
quite by accident was able to make crude copies of itself out of the
other molecules in the broth. As time passed, more elaborate and more
accurate self-replicating molecules arose. Those combinations best
suited to further replication were favored by the sieve of natural
selection. Those that copied better produced more copies. And the
primitive oceanic broth gradually grew thin as it was consumed by and
transformed into complex condensations of self-replicating organic
molecules. Gradually, imperceptibly, life had begun.
Single-celled plants evolved, and life began to generate its own food.
Photosynthesis transformed the atmosphere. Sex was invented. Once
free-living forms banded together to make a complex cell with
specialized functions. Chemical receptors evolved, and the Cosmos
could
taste and smell. One-celled organisms evolved into multicellular
colonies, elaborating their various parts into specialized organ
systems. Eyes and ears evolved, and now the Cosmos could see and
hear.
Plants and animals discovered that the land could support life.
Organisms buzzed, crawled, scuttled, lumbered, glided, flapped,
shimmied, climbed and soared. Colossal beasts thundered through the
steaming jungles. Small creatures emerged, born live instead of in
hard-shelled containers, with a fluid like the early oceans coursing
through their veins. They survived by swiftness and cunning. And
then,
only a moment ago, some small arboreal animals scampered down from the
trees. They became upright and taught themselves the use of tools,
domesticated other animals, plants and fire, and devised language.
The
ash of stellar alchemy was now emerging into consciousness. At an
ever-accelerating pace, it in vented writing, cities, art and science,
and sent spaceships to the planets and the stars. These are some of
the
things that hydrogen atoms do, given fifteen billion years of cosmic
evolution.
It has the sound of epic myth, and rightly. But it is simply a
description of cosmic evolution as revealed by the science of our
time."
(Sagan C., "Cosmos", 1981, Macdonald, London, pp337-338)
The amazing thing about the above is that how similar it is to Genesis
1!
>But not
>all evolutionists look at it that way, and the ones who do are teaching
>philosophy or religion, not science, when they teach that view.
Yes. Well. Is there any difference? <g>
Stephen