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Thursday, November 10, 2011

The knowledge delusion

First published Thursday, November 3, 2011



Reflections on The God Delusion (Houghton Mifflin 2006) by the evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins.



Essay by PAUL CONANT

Preliminary remarks:
Our discussion focuses on the first four chapters of Dawkins' book, wherein he makes his case for the remoteness of the probability that a monolithic creator and controller god exists.

Alas, it is already November 2011, some five years after publication of
Delusion. Such a lag is typical of me, as I prefer to discuss ideas at my leisure. This lag isn't quite as outrageous as the timing of my paper on Dawkins' The Blind Watchmaker, which I posted about a quarter century after the book first appeared.

I find that I have been quite hard on Dawkins, or, actually, on his reasoning. Even so, I have nothing but high regard for him as a fellow sojourner on spaceship Earth. Doubtless I have been unfair in not highlighting positive passages in
Delusion, of which there are some (1). Despite my desire for objectivity, it is clear that much of the disagreement is rooted in my personal beliefs (see the link Zion below:

Summary:
Dawkins applies probabilistic reasoning to etiological foundations, without defining probability or randomness. He disdains Bayesian subjectivism without realizing that that must be the ground on which he is standing. In fact, nearly everything he writes on probability indicates a severe lack of rigor. This lack of rigor compromises his other points.

Richard Dawkins argues that he is no proponent of simplistic "scientism" and yet there is no sign in Delusion's first four chapters that in fact he isn't a victim of what might be termed the "scientism delusion." But, as Dawkins does not define scientism, he has plenty of wiggle room.

From what I can gather, those under the spell of "scientism" hold the, often unstated, assumption that the universe and its components can be understood as an engineering problem, or set of engineering problems. Perhaps there is much left to learn, goes the thinking, but it's all a matter of filling in the engineering details. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scientism).

Though the notion of a Laplacian cosmos that requires no god to, every now and then, act to keep things stable is officially passe, nevertheless many scientists seem to be under the impression that the model basically holds, though needing a bit of tweaking to account for the effects of relativity and of quantum fluctuations.

Doubtless Dawkins is correct in his assertion that many American scientists and professionals are closet atheists, with quite a few espousing the "religion" of Einstein, who appreciated the elegance of the phenomenal universe but had no belief in a personal god (2).

Interestingly, Einstein had a severe difficulty with physical, phenomenal reality, objecting strenuously to the "probabilistic" requirement of quantum physics, famously asserting that "god" (i.e., the cosmos) "does not play dice." He agreed with Erwin Schroedinger that Schroedinger's imagined cat strongly implies the absurdity of "acausal" quantum behavior (3). It turns out that Einstein was wrong, with statistical experiments in the 1980s demonstrating that "acausality" -- within constraints -- is fundamental to quantum actions.

Many physicists have decided to avoid the quantum interpretation minefield, discretion being the better part of valor. Even so, Einstein was correct in his refusal to play down this problem, recognizing that modern science can't easily dispense with classical causality. We speak of energy in terms of vector sums of energy transfers (notice the circularity) but no one has a good handle on what the it is behind that abstraction.

A partly subjective reality at a fundamental level is anethema to someone like Einstein -- so disagreeable, in fact, that one can ponder whether the great scientist deep down suspected that such a possibility threatened his reasoning in denying a need for a personal god. Be that as it may, one can understand that a biologist might not be familiar with how nettlesome the quantum interpretation problem really is, but Dawkins has gone beyond his professional remit and taken on the roles of philosopher and etiologist. True, he rejects the label of philosopher, but his basic argument has been borrowed from the atheist philosopher Bertrand Russell.

Dawkins recapitulates Russell thus: "The designer hypothesis immediately raises the question of who designed the designer."

Further: "A designer God cannot be used to explain organized complexity because a God capable of designing anything would have to be complex enough to demand the same kind of explanation... God presents an infinite regress from which we cannot escape."

Dawkins' a priori assumption is that "anything of sufficient complexity to design anything, comes into existence only as the end product of an extended process of gradual evolution."

If there is a great designer, "the designer himself must be the end product of some kind of cumulative escalator or crane, perhaps a version of Darwinism in its own universe."

Dawkins has no truck with the idea that an omnipotent, omniscient (and seemingly paradoxical) god might not be explicable in engineering terms. Even if such a being can't be so described, why is he/she needed? Occam's razor and all that.

Dawkins does not bother with the results of Kurt Goedel and its implications for Hilbert's sixth problem: whether the laws of physics can ever be -- from a human standpoint -- both complete and consistent. Dawkins of course is rather typical of those scientists who pay little heed to that result or who have tried to minimize its importance in physics. A striking exception is the mathematical physicist Roger Penrose who saw that Goedel's result was profoundly important (though mathematicians have questioned Penrose's interpretation).

A way to intuitively think of Goedel's conundrum is via the Gestalt effect: the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. But few of the profound issues of phenomenology make their way into Dawkins' thesis. Had the biologist reflected more on Penrose's The Emperor's New Mind: Concerning Computers, Minds and The Laws of Physics (Oxford 1989), perhaps he would not have plunged in where Penrose so carefully trod.

Penrose has referred to himself,
according to a Wikipedia article, as an atheist. In the film A Brief History of Time, the physicist said, "I think I would say that the universe has a purpose, it's not somehow just there by chance ... some people, I think, take the view that the universe is just there and it runs along -- it's a bit like it just sort of computes, and we happen somehow by accident to find ourselves in this thing. But I don't think that's a very fruitful or helpful way of looking at the universe, I think that there is something much deeper about it."

By contrast, we get no such ambiguity or subtlety from Dawkins. Yet, if one deploys one's prestige as a scientist to discuss the underpinnings of reality, more than superficialities are required. The unstated, a priori assumption is, essentially, a Laplacian billiard ball universe and that's it, Jack.

Dawkins embellishes the Russellian rejoinder with the language of probability: What is the probability of a superbeing, capable of listening to millions of prayers simultaneously, existing? This follows his scorning of Stephen D. Unwin's The Probability of God (Crown Forum 2003), which cites Bayesian methods to obtain a high probability of god's existence.
http://www.stephenunwin.com/

Dawkins is uninterested in Unwin's subjective prior probabilities, all the while being utterly unaware that his own probability assessment is altogether subjective. Heedless of the philosophical underpinnings of probability theory, he doesn't realize that by assigning a probability of "remote" at the extremes of etiology, he is engaging in a subtle form of circular reasoning.

The reader deserves more than an easy putdown of Unwin in any discussion of probabilities. Dawkins doesn't acknowledge that Bayesian statistics is a thriving school of research that seeks to find ways to as much as possible "objectify" the subjective assessments of knowledgeable persons. There has been strong controversy concerning Bayesian versus classical statistics, and there is a reason for that controversy: it gets at foundational matters of etiology. Nothing on this from Dawkins.

Without a Bayesian approach, Dawkins is left with a frequency interpretation of probability (law of large numbers and so forth). But we have very little -- in fact Dawkins would say zero -- information about the existence or non-existence of a sequence of all powerful gods or pre-cosmoses. Hence, there are no frequencies to analyze. Hence, use of a probability argument is in vain.

Dawkins elsewhere says (4) that he has read the great statistician Ronald Fisher, but one wonders whether he appreciates the meaning of statistical analysis. Fisher, who also opposed the use of Bayesian premises, is no solace when it comes to frequency-based probabilities. Take Fisher's combined probability test, a technique for data fusion or "meta-analysis" (analysis of analyses): What are the several different tests of probability that might be combined to assess the probability of god?

Dawkins is quick to brush off William A. Dembski, the intelligent design advocate who uses statistical methods to argue that the probability is cosmically remote that life originated in a random manner. And yet Dawkins himself seems to have little or no grasp of the basis of probabilities.

In fact, Dawkins makes no attempt to define randomness, a definition routinely brushed off in elementary statistics texts but which represents quite a lapse when getting at etiological foundations (5) and using probability as a conceptual, if not mathematical, tool.

But, to reiterate, the issue goes yet deeper. If, at the extremes, causation is not nearly so clear-cut as one might naively imagine, then at those extremes probabilistic estimates may well be inappropriate.

Curiously, Russell discovered Russell's paradox, which was ousted from set theory by fiat (axiom). Then along came Goedel who proved that axiomatic set theory (a successor to the theory of types propounded by Russell and Alfred North Whitehead in their Principia Mathematica) could not be both complete and consistent. That is, Goedel jammed Russell's paradox right down the old master's throat, and it hurt. It hurt because Goedel's result makes a mockery of the fond Russellian illusion of the universe as giant computerized robot. How does a robot plan for and build itself? Algorithmically, it is impossible. Dawkins handles this conundrum, it seems, by confounding the "great explanatory power" of natural selection -- wherein lifeform robots are controlled by robotic DNA (selfish genes) -- with the origin of the cosmos.

But the biologist, so focused on this foundational issue of etiology, manages to avert his eyes from the Goedelian "frame problem." And yet even atheistic physicists sense that the cosmos isn't simplistically causal when they describe the overarching reality as a "spacetime block." In other words, we humans are faced with some higher or other reality -- a transcendent "force" -- in which we operate and which, using standard mathematical logic, is not fully describable. This point is important. Technically, perhaps, we might add an axiom so that we can "describe" this transcendent (topological?) entity, but that just pushes the problem back and we would then need another axiom to get at the next higher entity.

Otherwise, Dawkins' idea that this higher dimensional "force" or entity should be constructed faces the Goedelian problem that such construction would evidently imply a Turing algorithm, which, if we want completeness and consistency, requires an infinite regress of axioms. That is, Dawkins' argument doesn't work because of the limits on knowledge discovered by Goedel and Alan Turing. This entity is perforce beyond human ken.

One may say that it can hardly be expected that a biologist would be familiar with such arcana of logic and philosophy. But then said biologist should beware superficial approaches to foundational matters (6).

At this juncture, you may be thinking: "Well, that's all very well, but that doesn't prove the existence of god." But here is the issue: One may say that this higher reality or "power" or entity is dead something (if it's energy, it's some kind of unknown ultra-energy) or is a superbeing, a god of some sort. Because this transcendent entity is inherently unknowable in rationalistic terms, the best someone in Dawkins' shoes might say is that there is a 50/50 chance that the entity is intelligent. I hasten to add that probabilistic arguments as to the existence of god are not very convincing (7).

A probability estimate's job is to mask out variables on the assumption that with enough trials these unknowns tend to cancel out. Implicitly, then, one is assuming that a god has decided not to influence the outcome (8). At one time, in fact, men drew lots in order to let god decide an outcome. (One of the reasons that some see gambling as sinful is because it dishonors god and enthrones Lady Randomness.)

Curiously, Dawkins pans the "argument from incredulity" proffered by some anti-Darwinians but his clearly-its-absurdly-improbable case against a higher intelligence is in fact an argument from incredulity, being based on his subjective expert estimate.

Dawkins' underlying assumption is that mechanistic hypotheses of causality are valid at the extremes, an assumption common to modern naive rationalism.

Another important oversight concerns the biologist's Dawkins-centrism. "Your reality, if too different from mine, is quite likely to be delusional. My reality is obviously logically correct, as anyone can plainly see." This attitude is quite interesting in that he very effectively gives some important information about how the brain constructs reality and how easily people might suffer from delusions, such as being convinced that they are in regular communication with god.

True, Dawkins jokingly mentions one thinker who posits a Matrix-style virtual reality for humanity and notes that he can see no way to disprove such a scenario. But plainly Dawkins rejects the possibility that his perception and belief system, with its particular limits, might be delusional.

In Dawkins' defense, we must concede that the full ramifications of quantum puzzlements have yet to sink into the scientific establishment, which -- aside from a distaste for learning that, like Wile E. Coyote, they are standing on thin air -- has a legitimate fear of being overrun by New Agers, occultists and flying saucer buffs. Yet, by skirting this matter, Dawkins does not address the greatest etiological conundrum of the 20th century which, one would think, might well have major implications in the existence-of-god controversy.

Dawkins is also rather cavalier
about probabilities concerning the origin of life, attacking the late Fred Hoyle's "jumbo jet" analogy without coming to grips with what was bothering Hoyle and without even mentioning that scientists of the caliber of Francis Crick and Joshua Lederberg were troubled by origin-of-life probabilities long before Michael J. Behe and Dembski touted the intelligent design hypothesis.

Astrophysicist Hoyle, whose steady state theory of the universe was eventually trumped by George Gamow's big bang theory, said on several occasions that the probability of life assembling itself from some primordial ooze was equivalent to the probability that a tornado churning through a junkyard would leave a fully functioning Boeing 747 in its wake. Hoyle's atheism was shaken by this and other improbabilities, spurring him toward various panspermia (terrestrial life began elsewhere) conjectures. In the scenarios outlined by Hoyle and Chandra Wickramasinghe, microbial life or proto-life wafted down through the atmosphere from outer space, perhaps coming from "organic" interstellar dust or from comets.

One scenario had viruses every now and again floating down from space and, besides setting off the occasional pandemic, enriching the genetic structure of life on earth in such a way as to account for increasing complexity. Hoyle was not specifically arguing against natural selection, but was concerned about what he saw as statistical troubles with the process. (He wasn't the only one worried about that; there is a long tradition of scientists trying to come up with ways to make mutation theory properly synthesize with Darwinism.)

Dawkins laughs off Hoyle's puzzlement about mutational probabilities without any discussion of the reasons for Hoyle's skepticism or the proposed solutions.

There are various ideas about why natural selection is robust enough to, thus far, prevent life from petering out (9). In my essay Do dice play God? (link above), I touch on some of the difficulties and propose a neo-Lamarckian mechanism as part of a possible solution, and at some point I hope to write more about the principles that drive natural selection. At any rate, I realize that Dawkins may have felt that he had dealt with this subject elsewhere, but his four-chapter thesis omits too much. A longer, more thoughtful book -- after the fashion of Penrose's The Emperor's New Mind -- is, I would say, called for when heading into such deep waters.

Hoyle's qualms, of course, were quite unwelcome in some quarters and may have resulted in the Nobel prize committee bypassing him. And yet, though the space virus idea isn't held in much esteem, panspermia is no longer considered a disrespectable notion, especially as more and more extrasolar planets are identified. Hoyle's use of panspermia conjectures was meant to account for the probability issues he saw associated with the origin and continuation of life. (Just because life originates does not imply that it is resilient enough not to peter out after X generations.)

Hoyle, in his own way, was deploying panspermia hypotheses in order to deal with a form of the anthropic principle. If life originated as a prebiotic substance found across wide swaths of space, probabilities might become reasonable. It was the Nobelist Joshua Lederberg who made the acute observation that interstellar dust particles were about the size of organic molecules. Though this correlation has not panned out, that doesn't make Hoyle a nitwit for following up.

In fact, Lederberg was converted to the panspermia hypothesis by yet another atheist (and Marxist), J.B.S. Haldane, a statistician who was one of the chief architects of the "modern synthesis" merging Mendelism with Darwinism.

No word on any of this from Dawkins, who dispatches Hoyle with a parting shot that Hoyle (one can hear the implied chortle) believed that archaeopteryx was a forgery, after the manner of Piltdown man. The biologist declines to tell his readers about the background of that controversy and the fact that Hoyle and a group of noted scientists reached this conclusion after careful examination of the fossil evidence. Whether or not Hoyle and his colleagues were correct, the fact remains that he undertook a serious scientific investigation of the matter.

http://www.chebucto.ns.ca/Environment/NHR/archaeopteryx.html

Another committed atheist, Francis Crick, co-discoverer of the doubly helical structure of DNA, was even wilder than Hoyle in proposing a panspermia idea in order to account for probability issues. He suggested in a 1970s paper and in his book Life Itself: Its Origin and Nature (Simon & Schuster 1981) that an alien civilization had sent microbial life via rocketship to Earth in its long-ago past, perhaps as part of a program of seeding the galaxy. Why did the physicist-turned-biologist propose such a scenario? Because the DNA helixes of all earthly life twist in the same direction. That seemed staggeringly unlikely to Crick, who thought we should find some DNA screws turning left and some right.

I don't bring this up to argue with Crick, but to underscore that Dawkins plays Quick-Draw McGraw with serious people without discussing the context. I.e., his book comes across as propagandistic, rather than fair-minded. It might be contrasted with John Allen Paulos' book Irreligion (see Do dice play god? above), which tries to play fair and which doesn't make duffer logico-mathematical blunders (10).

Though Crick and Hoyle were outliers in modern panspermia conjecturing, the concept is respectable enough for NASA to take seriously.

The cheap shot method can be seen in how Dawkins deals with Carl Jung's claim of an inner knowledge of god's existence. Jung's assertion is derided with a snappy one-liner that Jung also believed that objects on his bookshelf could explode spontaneously. That takes care of Jung! -- irrespective of the many brilliant insights contained in his writings, however controversial. (Disclaimer: I am neither a Jungian nor a New Ager.).

Granted that Jung was talking about what he took to be a paranormal event and granted that Jung is an easy target for statistically minded mechanists and granted that Jung seems to have made his share of missteps, we make three points:

1. There was always the possibility that the exploding object occurred as a result of some anomalous, but natural event.

2. A parade of distinguished British scientists have expressed strong interest in paranormal matters, among them officers of paranormal study societies. The American Brian Josephson, who received a Nobel prize for the quantum physics behind the Josephson junction, speaks up for the reality of mental telepathy (for which he has been ostracized by the "billiard ball" school of scientists).

3. If Dawkins is trying to debunk the supernatural using logical analysis, then it is not legitimate to use belief in the supernatural to discredit a claim favoring the supernatural (11).

Getting back to Dawkins' use of probabilities, the biologist contends with the origin-of-life issue by invoking the anthropic principle and the principle of mediocrity, along with a verbal variant of Drake's equation http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drake_equation

The mediocrity principle says that astronomical evidence shows that we live on a random speck of dust on a random dustball blowing around in a (random?) mega dust storm.

The anthropic principle says that, if there is nothing special about Earth, isn't it interesting how Earth travels about the sun in a "Goldilocks zone" ideally suited for carbon based life and how the planetary dynamics, such as tectonic shift, seem to be just what is needed for life to thrive (as discussed in the book Rare Earth: Why Complex Life is Uncommon in the Universe by Peter D. Ward and Donald Brownlee (Springer Verlag 2000))? Even further, isn't it amazing that the seemingly arbitrary constants of nature are so exactly calibrated as to permit life to exist, as a slight difference in the index of those constants known as the fine structure constant would forbid galaxies from ever forming? This all seems outrageously fortuitous.

Let us examine each of Dawkins' arguments.

Suppose, he says, that the probability of life originating on Earth is a billion to one or even a billion billion to one (10^-9 and 10^-18). If there are that many Earth-like planets in the cosmos, the probability is virtually one that life will arise spontaneously. We just happen to be the lucky winner of the cosmic lottery, which is perfectly logical thus far.

Crick, as far as I know, is the only scientist to point out that we can only include the older sectors of the cosmos, in which heavy metals have had time to coalesce from the gases left over from supernovae -- i.e., second generation stars and planets (by the way, Hoyle was the originator of this solution to the heavy metals problem). Yet still, we may concede that there may be enough para-Earths to answer the probabilities posed by Dawkins.

Though careful to say that he is no expert on the origin of life, Dawkins' probabilities, even if given for the sake of argument, are simply Bayesian "expert estimates." But, it is quite conceivable that those probabilities are far too high (though I candidly concede it is very difficult to assign any probability or probability distribution to this matter).

Consider that unicellular life, with the genes on the DNA (or RNA) acting as the "brain," exploits proteins as the cellular workhorses in a great many ways. We know that sometimes several different proteins can fill the same job, but that caveat doesn't much help what could be a mind-boggling probability issue.

Suppose that, in some primordial ooze or on some undersea volcanic slope, a prebiotic form has fallen together chemically and, in order to cross the threshold to lifeform, requires one more protein to activate. A protein is the molecule that takes on a specific shape, carrying specific electrochemical properties, after amino acids fold up. Protein molecules fit into each other and other constituents of life like lock and key (though on occasion more than one key fits the same lock).

The amino acids used by terrestrial life can, it turns out, be shuffled in many different ways to yield many different proteins. How many ways? About 10^60, which exceeds the number of stars in the observable universe by 24 orders of magnitude! And the probability of such a spark-of-life event might be in that ball park. If one considers the predecessor protein link-ups as independent events and multiplies those probabilities, we would come up with numbers even more absurd.

But, Dawkins has a way out, though he loses the thread here. His way out is that a number of physicists have posited, for various reasons, some immense -- even infinite -- number of "parallel" universes, which have no or very weak contact with this one and are hence undetectable. This could handily account for our universe having the Goldilocks fine structure constant and, though he doesn't specify this, might well provide enough suns in those universes that have galaxies to account for even immensely improbable events.

I say Dawkins loses the thread because he scoffs at religious people who see the anthropic probabilities as favoring their position concerning god's existence without, he says, realizing that the anthropic principle is meant to remove god from the picture. What Dawkins himself doesn't realize is that he mixes apples and oranges here. The anthropic issue raises a disturbing question, which some religious people see as in their favor. Some scientists then seize on the possibility of a "multiverse" to cope with that issue.

But now what about Occam's razor? Well, says Dawkins, that principle doesn't quite work here. To paraphrase Einstein, once one removes all reasonable explanations the remaining explanation, no matter how absurd it sounds, must be correct.

And yet what is Dawkins' basis for the proposition that a host of undetectable universes is more probable than some intelligent higher power? There's the rub. He is, no doubt unwittingly, making an a priori assumption that any "natural" explanation is more reasonable than a supernatural "explanation." Probabilities really have nothing to do with his assumption.

But perhaps we have labored in vain over the "multiverse" argument, for at one point we are told that a "God capable of calculating the Goldilocks values" of nature's constants would have to be "at least as improbable" as the finely tuned constants of nature, "and that's very improbable indeed." So at bottom, all we have is a Bayesian expert prior estimate.

Well, say you, perhaps a Wolfram-style
algorithmic complexity argument can save the day. Such an argument might be applicable to biological natural selection, granted. But what selected natural selection? A general Turing machine can compute anything computable, including numerous "highly complex" outputs programed by easy-to-write inputs. But what probability does one assign to a general Turing machine spontaneously arising, say, in some electronic computer network? Wolfram found that "interesting" celullar automata were rare. Even rarer would be a complex cellular automaton that accidentally emerged from random inputs.

I don't say that such a scenario is impossible, but rather to assume that it just must be so is little more than hand-waving.

Dawkins tackles the problem of the outrageously high information values associated with complex life forms by conceding that a species, disconnected from information about causality, has only a remote probability of occurrence by random chance. But, he counters, there is in fact a non-random process at work: natural selection.

I suppose he would regard it a quibble if one were to mention that mutations occur randomly, and perhaps so it is. However, it is not quibbling to question how the powerful process of natural selection first appeared on the scene. In other words, the information values associated with the simplest known form (least number of genes) of microbial life is many orders of magnitude greater than the information values associated with background chemicals -- which was Hoyle's point in making the jumbo jet analogy.

And then there is the probability of life thriving. Just because it emerges, there is no guarantee that it would be robust enough not to peter out in a few generations (9).Dawkins dispenses with proponents of intelligent design, such as biologist Michael J. Behe, author of Darwin’s Black Box: The Biochemical Challenge to Evolution (The Free Press 1996), by resort to the conjecture that a system may exist after its "scaffolding" has vanished. This conjecture is fair, but, at this point, the nature of the scaffolding, if any, is unknown. Dawkins can't give a hint of the scaffolding's constituents because, thus far, no widely accepted hypothesis has emerged. Natural selection is a consequence of an acutely complex mechanism. The "scaffolding" is indeed a "black box" (it's there, we are told, but no one can say what's inside).

Though it cannot be said that intelligent design advocate Behe has proved "irreducible complexity," the fact is that the magnitude of organic complexity has even prompted atheist scientists to look far afield for plausible explanations.

Biologists, Dawkins writes, have had their consciousnesses raised by natural selection's "power to tame improbability" and yet that power has very little to do with the issues of the origins of life or of the universe and hence does not bolster his case against god. I suppose that if one waxes mystical about natural selection -- making it a mysterious, ultra-abstract principle, then perhaps Dawkins makes sense. Otherwise, he's amazingly naive.


Relevant links:

In search of a blind watchmaker
http://www.angelfire.com/az3/nfold/watch.html
Do dice play God?
http://www.angelfire.com/az3/nfold/dice.html

Toward a signal model of perception
http://www.angelfire.com/ult/znewz1/qball.html

On Hilbert's sixth problem
http://kryptograff.blogspot.com/2007/06/on-hilberts-sixth-problem.html

The world of null-H

http://kryptograff.blogspot.com/2007/06/world-of-null-h.html
The universe cannot be modeled as a Turing machine
http://www.angelfire.com/az3/nfold/turing.html

Biological observer-participation and Wheeler's 'law without law'
by Brian D. Josephson

http://arxiv.org/abs/1108.4860


Footnotes

1. We don't claim that none of his criticisms are worth anything. Plenty of religious people, Martin Luther included, would heartily agree with some of his complaints, which, however, are only tangentially relevant to his main argument.Anyone can agree that vast amounts of cruelty have occurred in the name of god. Yet, it doesn't appear that Dawkins has squarely faced the fact of the genocidal rampages committed under the banner of godlessness (Mao, Pol Pot, Stalin).

What drives mass violence is of course an important question. As an evolutionary biologist, Dawkins would say that such behavior is a consequence of natural selection, a point underscored by the ingrained propensity of certain simian troops to war on members of the same species. No doubt Dawkins would concede that the bellicosity of those primates had nothing to do with beliefs in some god.

So it seems that Dawkins may be placing too much emphasis on beliefs in god as a source of violent strife, though we should grant that it seems perplexing as to why a god would permit such strife.

Still, it appears that the author of Climbing Mount Improbable (W.W. Norton 1996) has confounded correlation with causation.


2. Properly this footnote, like the previous one, does not affect Dawkins' case against god's existence, which is the reason for the placement of these remarks.
In a serious lapse, Dawkins has that "there is something to be said" for treating Buddhism and Confucianism not as religions but as ethical systems. In the case of Buddhism, it may be granted that Buddhism is atheistic in the sense of denying a personal, monolithic god. But, from the perspective of a materialist like Dawkins, Buddhism certainly purveys numerous supernaturalistic ideas, with followers espousing ethical beliefs rooted in a supernatural cosmic order -- which one would think qualifies Buddhism as a religion.

True, Dawkins' chief target is the all-powerful god of Judaism, Christianity and Islam (Zoroastrianism too), with little focus on pantheism, hentheism or supernatural atheism. Yet a scientist of his standing ought be held to an exacting standard.


3. As well as conclusively proving that quantum effects can be scaled up to the "macro world."
4. The Blind Watchmaker: Why the Evidence of Evolution Reveals a Universe without Design (W.W. Norton 1986).

5. The same might be said of Dembski.

6. A fine, but significant, point: Dawkins, along with many others, believes that Zeno's chief paradox has been resolved by the mathematics of bounded infinite series. However, quantum physics requires that potential energy be quantized. So height H above ground is measurable discontinuously in a finite number of lower heights. So a rock dropped from H to ground must first reach H', the next discrete height down. How does the rock in static state A at H reach static state B at H'? That question has no answer, other than to say something like "a quantum jump occurs." So Zeno makes a sly comeback.

This little point is significant because it gets down to the fundamentals of causality, something that Dawkins leaves unexamined.
7. After the triumphs of his famous theorems, Goedel stirred up more trouble by a finding a solution to Eistein's general relativity field equations which, in Goedel's estimation, demonstrated that time (and hence naive causality) is an illusion. A rotating universe, he found, could contain closed time loops such that if a rocket traveled far enough into space it would eventually reach its own past, apparently looping through spacetime forever. Einstein dismissed his friend's solution as inconsistent with physical reality.

Before agreeing with Einstein that the solution is preposterous, consider the fact that many physicists believe that there is a huge number of "parallel," though undetectable, universes.

And we can leave the door ajar, ever so slightly, to Dawkins' thought of a higher power fashioning the universe being a result of an evolutionary process. Suppose that far in our future an advanced race builds a spaceship bearing a machine that resets the constants of nature as it travels, thus establishing the conditions for the upcoming big bang in our past such that galaxies, and we, are formed. Of course, we then are faced with the question: where did the information come from?
8. Unless one assumes another god who is exactly contrary to the first, or perhaps a group of gods whose influences tend to cancel.9. Consider a child born with super-potent intelligence and strength. What are the probabilities that the traits continue?

A. If the child matures and mates successfully, the positive selection pressure from one generation to the next is faced with a countervailing tendency toward dilution. It could take many, many generations before that trait (gene set) becomes dominant, and in the meantime, especially in the earlier generations, extinction of the trait is a distinct possibility.

B. In social animals, very powerful individual advantages come linked to a very powerful disadvantage: the tendency of the group to reject as alien anything too different. Think of the recent tendency of white mobs to lynch physically superior black males. Or of the early 19th century practice of Australian tribesmen to kill mixed race offspring born to their women.


10. I have also made more than my share of those.

11. Colin J. Humphreys, a Cambridge professor, takes issue with one of Dawkins's barbs. Humphreys, a materials science professor with an interest in biblical mysteries, quotes Dawkins as saying, "The only difference between the Da Vinci Code and the gospels is that the gospels are ancient fiction while The Da Vinci Code is modern fiction."

Humphreys responds that in his book The Mystery of the Last Supper: Reconstructing the Final Days of Jesus (Cambridge University Press, 2011), he has "taken what the biblical scholar F.F. Bruce called 'the thorniest problem in the New Testament,' the date and nature of the last supper" and shown that despite the complexity of the problem "the gospels are in substantial agreement."

Humphreys did extensive research and proposes that Jesus and his disciples ate the last supper on the Wednesday before the crucifixion, not the Thursday before.




Draft 04</ br> Minor editing on Oct. 1, 2013</ br>

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