Part 11 (2/2)

One failed prediction is enough to torpedo a theory. Success with every prediction, on the other hand, means only that it has survived everything thrown at it so far. So, if evolution is valid, the newer discoveries made since its inception ought to be consistent with it. Apart from some haggling among specialists over relatively minor details, this has turned out to be overwhelmingly the case. Darwin and others predicted the essential properties of inherited genetic units, even though genes and chromosomes were unknown at that time. From evolutionary theory, DNAs from different species should exhibit a branching pattern that reflects the same time sequence of divergence as it is deduced by other methods; they do. The primitive metabolic chemistry of ancestral organisms should be discernible in today's organic cells; it is. There shouldn't be much difference in the genetic code inherited by all organisms; there isn't. And so it goes.

And of the predictive power of creationism? Can it predict which band in a series of tree rings should indicate the same age as a given mix of carbon isotopes? Or the tidal record that ought to be found written into fossil corals by the moon's...o...b..tal motion of several hundred million years ago? Does it have anything to say about the composition of the early atmosphere and the kinds of minerals that would be formed as a consequence-their chemical nature, where they should be located, and at what depths we should expect to find them today? Can creationism, in fact, give a hint of any future finding? Not a one. It operates with hindsight only. Because of its built-in unfalsifiability it can cobble together an explanation of anything at all-but only after the fact as established by other means. As a method of prediction it is sterile.

In its demand to be recognized as a science, therefore, creationism not only fails all the basic tests, but from the credentials that it presents shows no comprehension of what const.i.tutes a science. It should be taught in schools, certainly, to those who wish to study it-students of religion, of philosophy, of history, of the development of human thought. But there can be no trying to pa.s.s it off as a science. The suggestion of ”scientific creationism” is a self-contradiction.

If one chooses to think in terms of the revealed word of a G.o.d, then surely whatever G.o.d has to say is written in the language of life, the world, and the physical universe around us. This is a form of scripture that comes direct from the source, leaving no room for doubts about authenticity, suspicions of forgery, or uncertainties over translation. And the Word that the processes of physics, biology, geology, astronomy, and cosmology are revealing is that the universe and everything in it have been evolving for as far back as it's possible to track time. I think that EVOLUTION IS THE REVEALED WORD OF G.o.d would make a good b.u.mper sticker.

Such thoughts lead to stories like Making Light. . . .

Afterword, 1997 Isn't it interesting how the same facts and arguments can take on a different light when seen from an altered perspective. Ten years or so after writing the above, I found myself calling Jim Baen to suggest that perhaps it ought to be omitted from the rereleased version of this book. I explained that I was now a lot less persuaded by the orthodox theory than I had been. Specifically, I had reached the conclusion that evolution didn't take place gradually but in huge leaps, and natural selection wasn't adequate to explain it.

Also, I thought the creationists had some good evidence to present for the notion of the Earth being a lot younger than conventionally taught-although not the 6,000 years that Biblical literalists insist on.

Jim was interested in this change of view and thought others would be too. Therefore, he suggested instead leaving the piece in as it was, and writing a further one to elaborate on the reasons. This we did, and it appears as ”Evolution Revisited” in Rockets, Redheads, and Revolution-a late inclusion in that collection, which is why this afterword was written in 1997.

For those who are curious, the book that started me rethinking the subject, and which I'd recommend as a start for anyone else interested in taking a look at the other side, was Evolution: A Theory in Crisis by the molecular biologist Michael Denton, published by Adler & Adler, 1986.

MAKING LIGHT.

In his s.p.a.cious office atop the Headquarters Building of the Celestial Construction Company Inc., the General Operations Director hummed to himself as he sat at his desk and scanned over Contract 15,000,000,000 B.C. The contract doc.u.ment was brief and straightforward and called for the creation of a standard Mark IV universe-plenty of light; the usual suns, planets, and moons; a few firmaments here and there with birds and animals on the land; fish-filled waters around the land. There was an attached schedule for accessories, spares for renewable resources, and some supporting services.

Deadline for the contract was seven days-a piece of cake, the G.o.d told himself. Design Engineering Department's final proposal for the bid lay to one side of the desk in the form of a bulky folder that const.i.tuted the Works Order Review Doc.u.ment. Until final approvals were granted, the W.O.R.D.

would be all that existed of the universe . . . but it was a beginning.

What promised to make this project a little different from the previous Mark IV's, and somewhat more interesting, was the optional extra that Design Engineering had tagged on in the Appendix section of the proposal: people. Unlike the species that made up the usual mix of Mark IV animal forms, which simply consumed resources and multiplied until they achieved a balance with the environment, the people would have the capacity to harness fire, make tools, and generally think about how they could be better off. This would produce an awareness of needs and the motivation to do something about satisfying them.

Eventually the people would discover that, as their numbers and their demands increased, they would no longer be able to satisfy their needs with the resources that came readily to hand. At that point, the computer simulations indicated, they could simply give up, they could fight over what they had until it ran out and then be obliged to give up anyway, or they could develop the intellectual potential inherent in their design and apply it to discovering the progression of new resources hidden around them like the successively more challenging, but at the same time more rewarding, clues of a treasure hunt. The way out of the maze lay in the third alternative.

Wood, growing all over the surface of the planets, would be the most obvious fuel following the taming of fire, but it would not prove adequate for long. It would, however, enable the more easily mined metal ores-conveniently scattered on top of the crusts or not very far below-to be smelted and exploited to make the tools necessary for digging deeper to the coal. Coal would enable an industrial base to be set up for producing machines suitable for drilling and processing oil, which in turn would yield the more highly concentrated fuels essential for aircraft and rudimentary s.p.a.ce vehicles. The scientific expertise that would emerge during this phase would be the key to unlocking nuclear energy from crustal uranium, and the fission technologies thus brought into being would pave the way into fusion-initially using the deuterium from the special-formula oceans premixed for the purpose-and hence out to the stars and on to the advanced methods that would render resources effectively infinite for the lifetime of the universe.

On planets set up for them in that way and with brains that ought to be capable of figuring the rest out for themselves, the people would have a fair chance of winning the game.

What the purpose of the game was, Design Engineering hadn't said. The G.o.d suspected that it was more for their own amus.e.m.e.nt than anything else, but he hadn't objected since he was quite curious himself to find out how the people would handle the situation. A modic.u.m of applied precognition could no doubt have revealed that, but somehow it would have spoiled things.

He was still browsing over the last page of the contract when the phone rang with a peal of rising and falling chimes. It was Gabriel, the Vice President of Manufacturing. He sounded worried. ”It's proposal number fifteen billion B.C.,” he said. ”I think we might have problems.”

The G.o.d frowned. ”I was just going through it. Looks fine to me. What's the problem?”

”Somebody from Equal Employment Opportunities Creation has been onto the Legal Department.

They're objecting to DE's proposal for the people on the grounds that it would discriminate unfairly against the animals. I think we ought to get the department heads together to talk about it. How are you fixed?”

”Pretty clear for the next few millennia. When did you want to do it?”

”How about right now, while the large conference and congregation room's free?”

”Sure. Get the others over and I'll see you there in, say, ten minutes.”

”Leave it to me.”

The G.o.d replaced the phone, slipped the contract doc.u.ment inside the WORD folder, tucked the folder under his arm as he stood up from the desk, and began walking toward the door. Outside in the corridor he paused to pat the pockets of his suit and found he was out of holy smokes, so he made a slight detour to get a pack from the machine by the ascension and descension elevators.

”The EEOC says that we can't endow one species with that kind of intelligence,” the Head of the Legal Department explained across the gilt-edged conference table a quarter of an hour later. ”Doing so would confer such a devastating advantage that the animals would be guaranteed permanent second-cla.s.s status with no opportunity to compete, which would const.i.tute an infringement of rights.”

”And we've been looking into some of the other implications,” another of the lawyers added. ”The people would eventually a.s.sume a uniquely dominant role. That could set us up for an ant.i.trust suit.”

All heads turned toward the Chief Design Engineer. ”Well, we can't take the intelligence away from the people,” he objected. ”The physiques that we've specified don't give them any other means of survival.

They'd have no chance. Then we'd still be in trouble with EEOC but with everything the other way around.” He threw his hands out impatiently. ”And besides, it would defeat the purpose of the whole exercise. It was the addition of intelligence that was going to make this project more interesting.”

”Why not make all the species equally intelligent?” somebody suggested.

The CDE shook his head. ”We planned the ecology so that the animals would do most of the work for the people in the early phases and provide a lot of their food. If we made them equally intelligent, the situation would qualify as slavery and exploitation. We'd never get it past the Justice Department.”

”And on top of that they'd all become eligible for education, sickness benefits, and retirement pensions,”

the CDE's a.s.sistant pointed out. ”HEW would never accept the commitment. They couldn't handle the load.”

That was true, the G.o.d admitted as he thought about it. Already the Department of Harps, Eternity-pensions, and Wings had insisted that all guarantees of benefits be deleted from the proposal.

And that had been just on account of the projected numbers of people, never mind all the animals. ”So why can't we change things so the people don't have to depend on the animals at all?” he asked, at last looking up. ”Let's make them strong enough to do all the work themselves, and have them just eat plants.”

”Not that easy,” the CDE answered, shaking his head dubiously. ”They'd have to be at least the size of elephants on an input of vegetable protein. Then food-gathering would become such a problem that they'd never have any time left over for mental development, which puts us back to square one.” He thought for a second or two, then added, ”Though it might work if we redesigned the food chain somehow.”

The G.o.d looked over at the Head of Research. ”What do you say to that?” he asked.

The scientist didn't appear too happy as he pinched his nose and reflected upon the question. ”We'd have to figure it out again all the way down to the bacteria,” he replied after a while. ”You're talking about a complete redesign, not just a few modifications. Setting up a whole new ecology and running it through the simulator is a long job. I don't think we could finish before the closing date on the bid, and that doesn't allow for having to rewrite the proposal from scratch. If we could use the new Infallible Biological Modeler we might have had a chance, but we can't. It's not up and running yet.”

”I thought the IBM was supposed to have been installed last week,” the G.o.d said, sounding surprised.

”It was, but the systems angelists haven't handed it over yet,” the Research Chief replied. ”They're not through exorcizing the bugs.”

The G.o.d frowned down at the table in front of him. ”h.e.l.l,” he muttered irritably.

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