When I say that I would like to offer a new argument against Darwinism, I do not mean to indicate that no one has ever thought of it before. That’s as may be. I simply mean that I have not encountered it yet. So here goes:
The argument arises from a question. On the assumption that a good scientific theory should be falsifiable, the question is this. From the standpoint of the evolutionist, does the discovery of ever-increasing complexity in living organisms have any relevance at all? And if it does, at what point does that relevance apply? If it doesn’t, why doesn’t it?
For example, Dawkins grants that life around us has the appearance of design. That appearance arises from the organized complexity. And this means that more such complexity would mean more such appearance. At what point (hypothetically) does the appearance become a necessary reality? This is something that an evolutionist should be able to define beforehand.
For example, we already know that messenger RNA transmits information from the DNA to the ribosomes. This is thought to be merely apparent design. But what if we found out that all the messenger RNA were wearing little brown UPS driver shorts? Now what?
Suppose you are looking at a cloud in the sky, and you see a cloud that resembles a giant bear. You have the appearance of a bear. You know that the appearance is a function of your imagination. But suppose, while you are watching, the picture gets more and more complex — the bear is climbing a tree for some honeycomb, and you have little white bees flying around his fluffy ursine head. If this is not sufficient for you, keep adding complexity. At some point, you would have to acknowledge that you are no longer looking as the results of your imagination, but rather at the results of someone else’s imagination.
Given that there is such a transition point, the question then becomes “where is it?” And “how can we know?” What are we looking for, in other words, and how much of it?
There are two aspects to this. The one already touched on might called the engineering question. At what point of rising complexity does apparent design manifestly become exquisite design? How many moving parts must there be before the fact of design becomes undeniable? Is there such a point, and how might we identify it beforehand?
But the second aspect, not yet discussed, has to do with the amount of time available for evolution to occur. If we were to line up the beneficial mutations necessary in order to arrive at our current levels of complexity, and discover that there are, say, 570 million of them since the first rise of arthropda creepi crawli, to use the scientific sobriquet, this would require an average of one such mutation/change per year. This is because arthropoda arose, according to the official story, 570 million years ago.
Since we are dealing with hypothetical complexities, what happens if we double them? Now we need one of them to occur on average every six months. At some point, the suggested mechanism of natural selection ceases to have explanatory power. Natural selection has been swamped. The best hitter in the world will be overwhelmed if the ball is pitched three times a second. Or, put another way, if we get to a “mutation a minute,” we are no longer talking about Darwinism, but some form of pantheistic magic. So when is that point?
So the argument concerns the impact of a hypothetical level of complexity discovered in the future, as a result of our increasing scientific knowledge. At what levels will this complexity become relevant?
And of course, to address the question honestly should reveal that we are long past the point where it should have become relevant.