Or someone else will.
Who doesn’t like a bargain? I sure do. And I am a sucker for 2-for-1 specials.
For those interested in science-faith discussions, the recent book by biologist Dennis Venema (Trinity Western University) and New Testament scholar Scot McKnight (Northern Seminary) is quite the deal. Two books in one, Adam and the Genome presents a scientific and theological case for evolutionary creationism—the idea that God employed evolutionary processes to bring about the design, origin, and history of life, including humanity.1
The first half of the book, written by Venema, presents a case for human evolution from recent work in comparative genomics and population genetics. As part of his case for human evolution, Venema makes it clear that the genetic diversity of humanity is too extensive to have come from a primordial couple—Adam and Eve.
As an author who works in the science-faith arena, I am impressed with the writing of Venema’s portion of the book. He does a masterful job of communicating complex ideas in genomics and population genetics in an accessible way. He makes it easy for the uninitiated to understand why a growing number of evangelical Christians feel compelled to embrace evolutionary creationism.
The author of the book’s second half, Scot McKnight, assumes the reality of human evolution along with the inevitable requirement that humanity emerged as a population, not a primordial pair. Making these two concessions, McKnight explains why he doesn’t think the Christian faith depends on a historical Adam and Eve as the sole progenitors of all humanity. Instead, he argues that Adam and Eve should be viewed as archetypal—as literary and theological concepts.
So, have Venema and McKnight made their case?
Even though I can’t resist 2-for-1 deals, I am not going to offer the reader a 2-for-1 review. Instead, I am limiting my critical reflections to Dennis Venema’s portion of the book. Because I’m not a biblical scholar or a theologian, I will refrain from sharing my thoughts on McKnight’s contribution to Adam and the Genome. Instead, I encourage the curious reader to take a look at articles by theologians Ken Keathley and Gavin Ortlund. Both scholars offer insightful commentary on McKnight’s analysis of the historical Adam—a much better bargain than anything I could hope to offer.
Venema’s Case for Human Evolution
Venema opens his case for human evolution by maintaining that the theory of biological evolution is well evidenced—the real deal. He argues that the theory of evolution has broad explanatory and predictive power.
He then turns to recent work in comparative genomics, explaining why many biologists regard the shared features in genomes as evidence for common ancestry. Applying that insight to whole genome comparisons of humans, chimpanzees, and other great apes, Venema explains why biologists think humanity shares an evolutionary history with the great apes—and, in fact, with all life on Earth. Focusing on pseudogenes, Venema concludes the case for common descent by discussing the widespread occurrence of nonfunctional DNA sequences located throughout the genomes of humans and the great apes—usually in corresponding locations in these genomes. Venema argues that these onetime functional DNA sequence elements were rendered nonfunctional through mutational events and are retained in genomes as vestiges of evolutionary history.
Venema then turns his attention to the question of Adam and Eve. If humanity arose through an evolutionary process, then Venema rightly points out that humanity must have begun as a population, not a primordial couple—by definition. According to evolutionary biologists, evolution is a population-level phenomenon. That being the case, if humanity arose via evolutionary processes, then there could never have been an Adam and an Eve. In support of this idea, Venema then discusses population genetics studies that indicate humanity began as an initial group of around 10,000 individuals. Based on these methods, the genetic diversity among humans today is too great to have come from just two individuals. Venema then goes on to explain how evolutionary biologists reconcile the existence of mitochondrial Eve and Y-chromosomal Adam (understood to be an actual woman and man, respectively) with the idea that humanity began as a population.
Finally, Venema closes out his portion of the book by offering a critique of the two most common challenges to biological evolution raised by the intelligent design movement: (1) irreducible complexity and (2) the improbability of biological information arising by chance. Venema does a nice job of explaining why most biologists are not impressed with these challenges to biological evolution and, hence, the case for intelligent design.
One of the things Venema does exceptionally well in Adam and the Genome is interweave throughout his four chapters the story of his intellectual conversion—from intelligent design to evolutionary creationism.
Venema recounts growing up in a conservative Christian home and attending a private Christian school where he learned that “‘Darwin’ and ‘evolution’ were evil, of course—things that atheist scientists believed despite their overwhelming flaws, because those scientists had purposefully blinded their eyes to the truth.”2
Venema tells how, at an early age, he was fascinated with the natural world and wanted to be a scientist. His frustration evident, Venema describes how his dreams of becoming a scientist were waylaid because of the influence of the young-earth creationism that perfused his home, school, and church community.
Unable to afford a private Christian college, Venema headed off to a secular university, sure that his faith would be challenged by his course work. Enrolled in a premed program (because he felt it safer than pursuing a science major), Venema describes how biology failed to capture his interest, until he began to do research in a university lab as an undergraduate student. That experience transformed him from a lackluster student to one who was highly motivated. It also inspired him to give up on medicine (even though he had the grades to get into medical school) and pursue a career in science. After completing his undergraduate education, Venema earned a PhD in genetics. Venema recounts how his anti-evolutionary views remained intact throughout his undergraduate and graduate training. In fact, he recalls how deeply impacted he was by the challenges biochemist Michael Behe leveled against Darwinian evolution in his book Darwin’s Black Box. In this book, and elsewhere, Behe argues that biochemical systems are irreducibly complex and, because of this property, cannot arise in a stepwise evolutionary process but must originate at once, with all components simultaneously coming together.
It was only later that Venema realized the deficiency of Behe’s case and other intelligent design arguments. According to Venema, he eventually concluded that intelligent design was based on god-of-the-gaps reasoning. Venema states, “Over the course of my personal journey away from ID, I came to an uncomfortable conclusion: ID seemed strong only where there was a lack of relevant evidence.”3
Is Evolutionary Creationism an Overreaction to Ill-Conceived Science-Faith Models?
Venema does a masterful job of explaining why so many biologists are convinced that life’s design, origin, history—including humanity’s origin—are best explained by the theory of evolution. Reading through Venema’s chapters, it becomes clear that strong evidential support exists for the theory of evolution and, along with it, human evolution. But in my view, Venema doesn’t tell the full story. There are also significant events in life’s history that evolutionary theory fails to explain—for example, the origin and design of biochemical systems. In fact, Venema readily acknowledges the scientific community’s failure to explain the origin of life through evolutionary means. It was this failure combined with the elegant, sophisticated, and ingenious designs of biochemical systems that convinced me that life’s origin and design at a molecular level must be the handiwork of a Creator. Despite Venema’s assertion, when it comes to the origin and design of biochemical systems, the case for intelligent design and, hence, a Creator’s role in life’s origin has become stronger over the last three decades—not because of our ignorance, but because of what we have learned about the origin-of-life problem and the structure and function of biochemical systems.
Yet having staked out and defended this claim in Origins of Life, The Cell’s Design, and Creating Life in the Lab, I am sympathetic to the critique Venema levels against (1) Behe’s idea of irreducible complexity and (2) the popular claim made by many Christian apologists that evolutionary mechanisms cannot generate biological information. Like Venema, at one time I found both arguments compelling. But as I carefully listened to the rebuttals to these arguments from origin-of-life researchers and evolutionary biologists over the years, I found myself less convinced that these specific arguments represent valid critiques of the abiogenesis and evolutionary theory. (For more details, see the Resources section of this review below.)
Unlike Venema, I didn’t abandon progressive creationism for evolutionary creationism when I soured on these two popular design arguments. Why? In spite of the limitations of these two arguments, I am more convinced than ever that the origin of life and the design of biochemical systems can’t be explained by evolutionary mechanisms. The case for a Creator doesn’t rise and fall on the validity of the arguments from irreducible complexity and the improbability of evolutionary mechanisms generating information. Instead, as I outline in a recently released video, How to Make a Case for Biochemical Design, the case for God’s role in the genesis of life and design of biochemical systems finds its basis in several different lines of evidence that collectively form a powerful weight-of-evidence case for biochemical design.
Yet Venema doesn’t see it that way, even though he acknowledges the challenges facing an evolutionary explanation for life’s origin. Why?
I am sure Venema would answer that his reluctance to embrace any form of intelligent design/creationism is the overwhelming evidence for common descent and human evolution. But given his story, I can’t help but wonder if there is more to it. I can’t help but wonder if Venema’s move away from intelligent design to evolutionary creationism isn’t possibly an overreaction, in part, to feeling duped by well-meaning Christians who authoritatively taught flawed scientific ideas as truth. I can’t help but wonder if Venema’s embrace of mainstream scientific ideas about evolution finds some motivation in the safety of this approach. By embracing evolutionary creationism, he will never be at odds with mainstream scientific thinking again. Those of us who espouse ideas about the design, origin, and history of life outside of the scientific mainstream know the cost of adopting these views. All of us have been ridiculed and dismissed by skeptics and people in the scientific community simply because we have the impertinence to challenge mainstream scientific ideas regarding origins and the temerity to claim that the evidence points to God’s role in the origin and design of the universe and life.
Over the years, I have gotten to know several evolutionary creationists who have similar stories to Venema’s. I have often heard evolutionary creationists express disappointment about being unintentionally mislead when they were young and scientifically naïve by well-meaning Christians who taught them young-earth creationism, only to later discover the scientific deficiencies of that idea. It seems to me that in abandoning young-earth creationism, they, like Venema, have moved to the opposite extreme, rejecting any science-faith model that doesn’t fully embrace mainstream scientific ideas—even if those ideas challenge key biblical doctrines.
In fact, I have had many evolutionary creationists tell me both publicly and privately that if evangelical Christians don’t accept the evolutionary paradigm, we will lose all credibility with the scientific community. I have heard evolutionary creationists argue that evangelical Christianity must adapt to the reality of evolution if the Christian faith is to remain relevant.
I will address these concerns more fully in part 2 of this review. For now, Venema’s story serves as a cautionary tale for all of us involved in science-faith discussions. We need to make sure that our ideas are scientifically credible, even if they lie outside the scientific mainstream. It is important that we faithfully communicate the scientific consensus and why the scientific community holds to it before we offer alternative models. We also need to be willing to acknowledge the shortcomings of our approach and models, whether our ideas fall within or outside the mainstream. Young-earth, old-earth, and evolutionary creationists alike need to exercise humility when it comes to advocating for their views. Perhaps if these practices were more commonplace, extreme views such as evolutionary creationism (and young-earth creationism) wouldn’t hold such sway.
What Motivations Influence My Views?
Venema’s story has caused me to reflect on my own intellectual journey—from an agnostic to a theist; from a theist to a Christian who embraced theistic evolution; and, finally, from an adherent of theistic evolution to one who now espouses progressive creationism. Do I hold my views based on evidence alone? Or are there other motivating factors? Like Venema, I would like to think that I hold my views because they best account for all the evidence, both scientific and biblical. But maybe I have a deep-seated skepticism of biological evolution because I too felt duped by well-meaning biology professors who taught me that the case for the evolutionary paradigm was airtight when, in fact, I later learned that was not the case whatsoever. I feel as if my journey to faith in Christ was waylaid because of my wholehearted embrace of the evolutionary paradigm, again based on a simplistic treatment of biological evolution. At one time in my life, I reasoned that if evolution can account for everything, then why is a Creator needed? God becomes superfluous in the evolutionary paradigm.
My point is this: a complex interplay of several factors determines the views that each of us holds, including the relationship between science and the Christian faith. Sincere, thoughtful, highly educated Christians can look at the same scientific and biblical data and come to rather different conclusions. It is for this reason that when we discuss science-faith issues with others (both inside and outside the Church) we need to move past the evidence and learn about one another’s experiences and control beliefs. In doing so, hopefully we realize that no one position uniquely holds the scientific or biblical high ground.
Unfortunately, like many evolutionary creationists, Venema writes as if evolutionary creationism is the only scientifically credible view. And McKnight, like other evolutionary creationists, adopts the posture that it is exegetically unreasonable to embrace a traditional biblical view of human origins. But what if one reaches a different conclusion—namely, that Scripture teaches humanity was created in God’s image through direct and personal Divine action and that all humanity comes from Adam and Eve? Does that mean, as Christians, we must abandon the scientific high ground?
In part 2, I will argue that the answer is no. I maintain that it is possible to hold to a scientifically credible view of human origins while at the same time embracing the traditional biblical view of human origins. However, to do so, we must abandon methodological naturalism as the philosophical framework for science. If we do so, we will find the theory of evolution doesn’t uniquely account for the data from comparative genomics and population genetics. It is possible to present a robust scientific model (see Who Was Adam?) that explains the shared similarities and differences found in the genomes of humans and the great apes as shared design features—manifestations of an archetypal design.
When I began college, I signed up for a premed major but quickly changed my course of study after my first biology class. Biology 101 introduced me to the fascinating molecular world inside the cell. At that point, I was hooked. All I wanted was to become a biochemist.
But there was another reason why I gave up on the prospects of becoming a physician. I didn’t think I had the mental wherewithal to make decisions with life and death consequences for patients. And to this day, I deeply admire men and women who do possess that mental fortitude.
The problem is that once someone dies, they don’t come back to life. I knew this reality would loom large for every decision I would make as a physician. Over 100,000 years of human experience teaches that when people die, they remain dead. And this experience is borne out by centuries of scientific study into human biology.
When It Comes to the Virgin Birth and the Resurrection, Christianity is Anti-scientific
Yet at the heart of the Christian faith is the idea that Jesus Christ was raised from the dead. To be clear, this idea is counter to human experience and thoroughly anti-scientific.
On the other hand, a strong circumstantial case based on historical facts can be marshaled for the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The historical evidence for the resurrection combined with the fact that this event transcends the laws of nature is clear evidence for Christians that God intervened in human history to perform a miracle—to act in a way that contravenes the laws of nature.
Even though alternative explanations for the facts surrounding the resurrection fall short, many skeptics remain unconvinced that the resurrection happened. Why? It is because it defies scientific explanation—dead people don’t come back to life.
Yet, I don’t know of any evangelical or conservative Christian that would deny the resurrection. Nor would these same Christians deny the virgin birth—another event that also defies scientific explanation. As Christians, we readily embrace anti-scientific ideas when they are central to Christianity. We don’t view them as allegorical or as literary constructs that teach theological truths so that they can be accommodated to scientific truth. We regard them as real events in space and time, in which God discernibly acted in a miraculous way.
Not only are the resurrection and the virgin birth anti-scientific, but the explanations for these two events completely fly in the face of methodological naturalism—the philosophical idea undergirding contemporary science. According to this philosophical system, scientific explanations must rely on material causes—natural process mechanisms. Any explanation that appeals to the work of a supernatural agent—a Creator—or processes that defy known laws of nature can’t be part of the scientific construct. By definition, these types of explanations are forbidden. Yet when it comes to the resurrection and the virgin birth, Christians reject methodological naturalism without apology. We don’t try to force these events within the framework of methodological naturalism by arguing that God used the laws of nature to affect the virgin birth or the resurrection. Why? It’s because the explanations for these events go beyond nature’s laws—these events are transcendent miracles.
Adam and Eve’s Creation and Importance to the Christian Faith
Should we not be willing to do adopt the same posture when it comes to the question of origins, including the historicity of Adam and Eve?
Like the virgin birth and the resurrection, Adam and Eve’s existence and role as humanity’s founding couple impacts key doctrines of the Christian faith, such as inerrancy, the image of God, the fall, original sin, marriage, and the atonement.
Venema and McKnight’s Adam and the Genome
The importance of a historical Adam and Eve to the Christian faith explains why New testament scholar Scot McKnight (Northern Seminary) spent four chapters—half of a book—in Adam and the Genome trying to convince the reader that the existence of this primordial couple is not critical to the Christian faith. McKnight felt this exercise necessary because he concedes that comparative genomics and population genetics demonstrate the truth of human evolution and the impossibility that humanity arose from a primordial pair—an Adam and an Eve.
Coauthored along with biologist Dennis Venema (Trinity Western University), Adam and the Genome presents a scientific and theological case for evolutionary creationism—the idea that God employed evolutionary processes to bring about the design, origin, and history of life, including humanity.1
The case Venema presents for human evolution serves as the motivation for McKnight’s contribution to the book. In fact, McKnight’s portion of Adam and the Genome is just the latest in a growing list of responses by evangelical and conservative Christian theologians to the specter of human evolution. Though this idea has been in play since the late 1800s with the publication of Darwin’s The Descent of Man, recently, Christian scholars, such as McKnight, feel compelled to sort through the theological fallout of this scientific explanation for human origins because of the emergence of genomics. Now that we have the capability to efficiently sequence and compare the entire genetic makeup of humans and other creatures, such as the great apes, the sense is that the case for human evolution has become undeniable.
So, have Venema and McKnight made their case? Is human evolution a fact? Are Adam and Eve merely theological constructs?
Having left the theological response to McKnight in the hands of scholars such as Gavin Ortlund and Ken Keathley, in part 1 of this review, I offered my reflections on Venema’s intellectual journey from an anti-evolutionary intelligent design proponent to someone who embraces and now advocates for evolutionary creationism, concluding that it wasn’t scientific evidence alone that motivated Venema and many other evolutionary creationists to adopt this view. I contend that many evolutionary creationists adopt this view, in part, because they are reacting to the disappointment they felt when they realized that they had been unintentionally mislead (when they were young and scientifically naïve) by well-meaning Christians who taught them young-earth creationism. I argue that in abandoning young-earth creationism, many evolutionary creationists have moved to the opposite extreme, rejecting any science-faith model that doesn’t fully embrace mainstream scientific ideas—even if those ideas challenge key biblical doctrines.
In this second part of my review, I offer my thoughts on the core of Venema’s case for human evolution—namely, work in comparative genomics and population genetics, found in chapters two and three, respectively, of Adam and the Genome.
Venema’s goal in his contribution to Adam and the Genome is to communicate the “undeniable” evidence for human evolution. Specifically, Venema discusses recent work in comparative genomics with the hope of explaining to the motivated layperson why many biologists regard the shared features in genomes as evidence for common ancestry. Applying that insight to whole genome comparisons of humans, chimpanzees, and other great apes, Venema explains why biologists think humanity shares an evolutionary history with the great apes—in fact, with all life on Earth. Focusing on pseudogenes, Venema concludes the case for common descent by discussing the widespread occurrence of nonfunctional DNA sequences located throughout the genomes of humans and the great apes—usually in corresponding locations in these genomes. Venema argues that these onetime functional DNA sequence elements were rendered nonfunctional through mutational events and are retained in genomes as vestiges of evolutionary history.
Role of Methodological Naturalism in Venema’s Argument
Admittedly, the scientific case Venema presents for common descent is strong—at least at first glance. (Though, in making his case, he does overlook some significant scientific issues confronting evolutionary biologists, such as the incongruency of evolutionary trees. In other words, evolutionary biologists wind up with different evolutionary trees depending on the region of the genome they use to build the trees. This is certainly the case when the human genome is compared to the genomes of chimpanzees and gorillas. One-third of the human genome more closely aligns to the gorilla genome than to the chimpanzee genome, indicating that gorillas, not chimpanzees, are our closest evolutionary relative.)
Having acknowledged the strong case Venema makes for human evolution, I want to make sure that the reader recognizes the powerful, yet often unrecognized, role methodological naturalism plays, propping up the case for common descent and, hence, human evolution. Because of the influence of methodological naturalism, the only permissible way to interpret shared genetic features within the mainstream scientific enterprise is from an evolutionary framework. Any explanation evoking a Creator’s involvement is off the table—even if a creation model can account for the data, and it can. However, this approach will never receive a hearing in the scientific community today because it violates the tenets of methodological naturalism. In other words, because of methodological naturalism’s sway, common descent and, consequently, human evolution must be true by default. No other option is allowed. No other explanation, no matter how valid, is permitted.
Like most evolutionary creationists, Venema and McKnight embrace methodological naturalism when it comes to the question of human origins. Yet they readily reject this idea when it comes to the virgin birth and the resurrection. As a result, their approach to science is inconsistent. Why apply the principles of methodological naturalism to human origins but not to questions surrounding the resurrection or the virgin birth?
It is true that methodological naturalism has a demonstrated track record of success—when it guides investigation of secondary, proximal causes. But this scientific approach often comes up short when scientific questions focus on primary or ultimate causes, such as the origin of the universe or the origin of life.
In fact, I wonder if Christians should embrace methodological naturalism at all. At its essence, this philosophical approach to science is inherently atheistic. A Christian could justify embracing a limited or weak form of methodological naturalism because Scripture teaches that God has providentially instituted processes that operate within the creation to sustain it. When studying these types of phenomena, application of methodological naturalism appears to be justified because the focus is on identifying and characterizing secondary, proximal causes.
But what about the question of origins? Given the descriptions of God’s creative work in the creation accounts, it looks as if God intervened in a direct, personal way when it comes to the origin of the universe and the origin and history of life—particularly when it comes to humanity’s beginnings. If so, then methodological naturalism becomes an impotent guide for scientific study because it insists that these events must have mechanistic causes—even if they may not. By default, an atheistic worldview is imposed on the scientific enterprise. Within the framework of methodological naturalism, science no longer becomes the quest for truth, but a game played with the goal being to produce a material causes explanation for the universe and phenomena within the universe, even if material causes aren’t the true explanation—and even if the explanations leave something to be desired.
Adherents of methodological naturalism defend its restrictions by arguing that science can’t put God in a test tube. Yet it is a straightforward exercise to show that science does have the tool kit to detect the work of intelligent agents within nature and to characterize their capabilities. By extension, science should have no problem detecting a Creator’s handiwork—and even determining the Creator’s identity.
So, what happens if we relax the restrictive requirements of methodological naturalism when we investigate the question of human origins? If we do, it becomes evident that human evolution isn’t unique in its capacity to explain shared genetic features. It becomes conceivable that the shared genetic features in the genomes of humans and the great apes could reflect similar designs employed by a Creator. To put it another way, the shared genetic features could reflect common design, not common descent.
Though this approach to the data is forbidden by contemporary mainstream science, this interpretative approach is not anti-scientific. In fact, there is a historical precedent for viewing shared genetic features as evidence for common design, not common descent. Prior to Darwin, distinguished biologist Sir Richard Owen interpreted shared (homologous) biological structures (and, consequently, related organisms) as manifestations of an archetype that originated in the mind of the First Cause, not the products of descent with modification. Darwin later replaced Owen’s archetype with a common ancestor. Again, the key point is that it is possible to conceive of an alternative interpretation of shared biological features, if one is willing to allow for the operation of a Creator within the history of life.
If the action of an intelligent agent becomes part of the construct of science and, hence, biology, then the shared molecular fossils in the genomes of humans and the great apes (such as pseudogenes) could be seen as shared design features. These sequence elements point to common descent only if certain assumptions are true:
- The genomes’ shared structures and sequences are nonfunctional.
- The events that created these features are rare, random, and nonrepeatable.
- No mechanisms other than common descent (vertical gene transfer) can generate shared features in genomes.
However, recent studies raise questions about the validity of these assumptions. For example, in the last decade or so, molecular biologists and molecular geneticists have discovered that most classes of “junk DNA,” including pseudogenes, have function. (Interested readers can find references to the original scientific papers in the expanded second edition of Who Was Adam? and The Cell’s Design.) In fact, the recently proposed competitive endogenous RNA hypothesis explains why pseudogenes must display similar sequences to their functional counterparts in order to carry out their cellular function.
Moreover, as discussed in Who Was Adam?, researchers are now learning that many of the events that alter genomes’ structures and DNA sequences are not necessarily rare and random. For example, biochemists have known for quite some time that mutations occur in hot spots in genomes. Recent work also indicates that transposon insertion and intron insertion occur at hot spots, and gene loss is repeatable. New studies also reveal that horizontal gene transfer can mimic common descent. This phenomenon is not confined to bacteria and archaea but has been observed in higher plants and animals as well, via a vector-mediated pathway or organelle capture.
These advances serve to undermine key assumptions needed for a common descent argument. Considering these discoveries, is it possible to make sense of the shared genomic architecture and DNA sequences within the framework of a creation model?
A Scientific Creation Model for Common Design
What follows is a brief abstract of the RTB genomics model. A more detailed description and defense of our model can be found in the second expanded edition of Who Was Adam?
A key tenet of the model is the idea that organisms—and, hence, their genomes—are the products of God’s direct creative activity. But once created, genomes are subjected to microevolutionary processes.
In brief, our model explains the similarities among organisms’ genomes in one of two ways:
- They reflect the work of a Creator who deliberately designed similar features in genomes according to (1) a common function or (2) a common blueprint.
- They reflect the outworking of physical, chemical, or biochemical processes that (1) occur frequently, (2) are nonrandom, and (3) are reproducible. These processes cause the independent origin of the same features in the genomes of different organisms. These features can be either functional or nonfunctional.
Our model also explains genomes’ differences in one of two ways:
- They reflect the work of a Creator who deliberately designed differences in genomes with distinct functions.
- They reflect the outworking of physical, chemical, or biochemical processes that reflect microevolutionary changes.
In principle, our model can account for similarities and differences in the genomes of organisms as either the deliberate work of a Creator or via natural-process mechanisms that alter the genomes after creation.
Were Adam and Eve Real?
Having argued for the reality of human evolution, Venema focuses attention on Adam and Eve’s historicity. If humanity arose through an evolutionary process, then Venema rightly points out that humanity must have begun as a population, not a primordial couple—by definition. According to evolutionary biologists, evolution is a population-level phenomenon. That being the case, if humanity arose via evolutionary processes, then there could never have been an Adam and an Eve. In support of this idea, Venema then discusses population genetics studies that indicate humanity began as an initial group of around 10,000 individuals. Based on these methods, the genetic diversity among humans today is too great to have come from just two individuals. Venema then goes on to explain how evolutionary biologists reconcile the existence of Mitochondrial Eve and Y-chromosomal Adam (understood to be an actual woman and man, respectively) with the idea that humanity began as a population.
Some Thoughts on Methods Used to Estimate Humanity’s Initial Population Size
Did humanity originate from a primordial pair?
One point Venema fails to acknowledge is that, at best, the population sizes generated from genetic diversity data are merely estimates, not hard and fast values. The reason: the mathematical models these methods are based on are highly idealized, generating differing estimates based on several factors.
More significantly, recent studies focusing on birds and mammals, however, raise questions as to whether these models predict population size. As the author of one study states, “Analyses of mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA) have challenged the concept that genetic diversity within populations is governed by effective population size and mutation rate. . . . The variation in the rate of mutation rather than in population size is the main explanation for variations in mtDNA diversity observed among bird species.”2
In fact, in several studies—involving white-tailed deer, mouflon sheep, Przewalski’s horses, white-tailed eagles, the copper redhorse, and gray whales—in which the original population size was known, the measured genetic diversity generations later was much greater than expected based on the models. In turn, if this data was used to estimate initial population size, the numbers would be much greater than the models predicted.
Did humanity originate from a single pair? Even though population estimates indicate humanity originated from several hundred to several thousand individuals based on mathematical models, it could well be that these numbers overestimate the original numbers for the first humans. And given how poorly these population size models perform, it is hard to argue that science has falsified the notion that humanity descended from a primordial pair.
In Adam and the Genome, Venema makes a compelling case for human evolution, but he fails to tell the entire story. Venema overlooks a serious problem facing the evolutionary paradigm—namely, the incongruencies of evolutionary trees built from genetic data. He also neglects to communicate a legion of exciting discoveries made since the human genome sequence was completed—discoveries indicating that virtually every class of junk DNA has function. These discoveries undermine evolution’s case and make it apparent that we are in our infancy when it comes to understanding the structure and function of the human genome. The more we learn, the more evident its elegant and ingenious design.
At the end of the day, the case for human evolution is propped up by the restrictions of methodological naturalism. As we have demonstrated in Who Was Adam?, when this restriction is relaxed, it is possible to advance a competing creation model that can account for the data from comparative genomics.
One thing has become clear to me after reading Adam and the Genome. It is no longer effective for creationists and intelligent design proponents to focus our efforts on taking potshots at human evolution. We must move beyond that type of critique and develop a philosophically robust framework for science that can compete with methodological naturalism and advance scientific models within that new framework with the capacity of explaining the data from comparative genomics and population genetics.
I am confident we can. We simply must roll up our sleeves and get to work.
Original article: Adam & The Genome
A primer, but still a good one for those without backgrounds in molecular chemistry or genetics.
We live in uncertain and frightening times.
There seems to be no end to the serious risks confronting humanity. In fact, in 2014, USA Today published an article identifying the 10 greatest threats facing our world:
- Fiscal crises in key economies
- Structurally high unemployment/underemployment
- Water crises
- Severe income disparity
- Failure to climate change mitigation and adaptation
- Greater incidence of extreme weather events (e.g., floods, storms, fires)
- Global governance failure
- Food crises
- Failure of a major financial mechanism/institution
- Profound political and social instability
If this list isn’t bad enough, another crisis looms in our near future: a data storage crisis.
Thanks to the huge volume of scientific data generated by disciplines such as genomics and the explosion of YouTube videos, 44 trillion gigabytes of digital data currently exist in the world. To put this in context, each person in a worldwide population of 10 billion people would have to store over 6,000 CDs to house this data. Estimates are that if we keep generating data at this pace, we will run out of high-quality silicon needed to make data storage devices by 2040.
Compounding this problem are the limitations of current data storage technology. Because of degradative processes, hard disks have a lifetime of about 3 years and magnetic tapes about 10 years. These storage systems must be kept in controlled environments—which makes data storage an expensive proposition.
Digital Data Storage in DNA
Because of DNA’s role as a biochemical data storage system (in which the data is digitized), researchers are exploring the use of this biomolecule as the next-generation digital data storage technology. As proof of principle, a team of researchers from Harvard University headed up by George Church coded the entire contents of a 54,000-word book (including 11 JPEG images) into DNA fragments.
The researchers chose to encode the book’s contents into small DNA fragments—devoting roughly two-thirds of the sequence for data and the remainder for information that can be used to locate the content within the entire data block. In this sense, their approach is analogous to using page numbers to order and locate the contents of a book.
Since then, researchers have encoded computer programs, operating systems, and even movies into DNA.
Because DNA is so highly optimized to store information, it is an ideal data storage medium. (For details regarding the optimal nature of DNA’s structure, see The Cell’s Design.) Researchers think that DNA has the capacity to store data near the theoretical maximum. About one-half pound of DNA can store all the data that exists in the world today.
Limitations of DNA Data Storage
Despite its promises, there are some significant technical hurdles to overcome before DNA can serve as a data storage system. Cost and time are two limitations. It is expensive and time-consuming to produce and read the synthetic DNA used to store information. As technology advances, the cost and time requirements associated with DNA data storage will likely improve. Still, because of these limitations, most technologists think that the best use of DNA will be for archival storage of data.
Another concern is the long-term stability of DNA. Over time, DNA degrades. Researchers believe that redundancy may be one way around this problem. By encoding the same data in multiple pieces of DNA, data lost because of DNA degradation can be recovered.
The processes of making and reading synthetic DNA also suffer from error. Current technology has an error rate of 1 in 100. Recently, researchers from Columbia University achieved a breakthrough that allows them to elegantly address loss of information from DNA due to degradation or miscoding that takes place when DNA is made and read. These researchers successfully applied techniques used for “noisy communication” operations to DNA data storage.
With these types of advances, the prospects of using DNA to store digital data may soon become a reality. And unlike other data storage technologies, DNA will never become obsolete.
Biomimetics and Bioinspiration
The use of biological designs to drive technological advance is one of the most exciting areas in engineering. This area of study—called biomimetics and bioinspiration—presents us with new reasons to believe that life stems from a Creator. As the names imply, biomimetics involves direct copying (or mimicry) of designs from biology, whereas bioinspiration relies on insights from biology to guide the engineering enterprise. DNA’s capacity to inspire engineering efforts to develop new data storage technology highlights this biomolecule’s elegant, sophisticated design and, at the same time, raises a troubling question for the evolutionary paradigm.
The Converse Watchmaker Argument
Biomimetics and bioinspiration pave the way for a new type of design argument I dub the converse Watchmaker argument: If biological designs are the work of a Creator, then these systems should be so well-designed that they can serve as engineering models and otherwise inspire the development of new technologies.
At some level, I find the converse Watchmaker argument more compelling than the classical Watchmaker analogy. It is remarkable to me that biological designs can inspire engineering efforts.
It is even more astounding to think that biomimetics and bioinspiration programs could be so successful if biological systems were truly generated by an unguided, historically contingent process, as evolutionary biologists claim.
Biomimetics and Bioinspiration: The Challenge to the Evolutionary Paradigm
To appreciate why work in biomimetics and bioinspiration challenge the evolutionary paradigm, we need to discuss the nature of the evolutionary process.
Evolutionary biologists view biological systems as the outworking of unguided, historically contingent processes that co-opt preexisting designs to cobble together new systems. Once these designs are in place, evolutionary mechanisms can optimize them, but still, these systems remain—in essence—kludges.
Most evolutionary biologists are quick to emphasize that evolutionary processes and pathways seldom yield perfect designs. Instead, most biological designs are flawed in some way. To be certain, most biologists would concede that natural selection has produced biological designs that are well-adapted, but they would maintain that biological systems are not well-designed. Why? Because evolutionary processes do not produce biological systems from scratch, but from preexisting systems that are co-opted through a process dubbed exaptation and then modified by natural selection to produce new designs. Once formed, these new structures can be fine-tuned and optimized through natural selection to produce well-adapted designs, but not well-designed systems.
If biological systems are, in effect, kludged together, why would engineers and technologists turn to them for inspiration? If produced by evolutionary processes—even if these processes operated over the course of millions of years—biological systems should make unreliable muses for technology development. Does it make sense for engineers to rely on biological systems—historically contingent and exapted in their origin—to solve problems and inspire new technologies, much less build an entire subdiscipline of engineering around mimicking biological designs?
Using biological designs to guide engineering efforts seems to be fundamentally incompatible with an evolutionary explanation for life’s origin and history. On the other hand, biomimetics and bioinspiration naturally flow out of an intelligent design/creation model approach to biology. Using biological systems to inspire engineering makes better sense if the designs in nature arise from a Mind.
Original article: DNA is Digitally Designed
The hardcore, cross-examined, mathematically proven, scientific evidence is so overwhelming at this point, only zealots reject it.
This fight has been over for so long… like since the 1950’s. But just like ISIS, they don’t know when they’ve been beaten. These people are terrified for their own Creator and they are justified in their terror. Until they are reconciled, they stand in ice and shadows — neither of which God has any use for.
God is calling us to a truce: we better take it!
Mutations did not slowly and clumsily build an imperfect genome (ours, plants, animals) they swiftly degraded a perfect genome. Evolution has it backwards.
This article is only the beginning. The genome operates non-linearly — non-linearly! — and in layers. The genome is not 2-dimensional (like a grid) but 3-dimensional (like a cube).
The most rudimentary mathematics we all learned in high school and college utterly smashes any notion that any system, especially one as inestimably complex as the human genome, can occur my chance.
There is an entire field of mathematics called statistical analysis and probability, and it is excellent for destroying silly molecular fantasies.
You don’t need the Bible to disprove evolution or to prove the existence of God — all you need for that is a calculator or the back of a napkin.
What you need the Bible for is to learn who your Father really is, what He said, and what He did for you.
Lay down doubt, fear, pride and anguish.
Meet your Father.
This might be fun.
I need this.