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Organisms Create — Nature Annihilates

Nature does not select

Photo by SwapnIl Dwivedi on Unsplash

What do you mean?

That is the puzzling question I asked several authors of books and scientific articles when I started actively reading about evolution.

It was around 2017, mid-year.

The first book I read which dissected common topics so well was by Karl Popper. The other that gave contrarian ideas was by Nassim Taleb. But the one that I started reading and loved was by Richard Dawkins.

You would not believe the places where I’d read this book. On Sunday mornings, as I waited for my mother to finish her after-mass meetings with friends, I’d sit outside a building in church, reading a book on evolution.

I was just from a session with believers and even before the air of Christianity faded as people left the church, I’d be flipping pages of the Blind Watchmaker.

The nerve!

Anyway, I couldn’t help it. Dawkins was on a mission.

He wanted to show just how nature can have one of the most intricate organs, the eye, yet lack an external designer.

I loved the flow.

I got to know about groups of evolutionists such as cladists. I learned that one could discover ideas about evolution through computer programs. I also learned the eye could independently fashion itself without an external designer.

But every time I continued reading, the reason for this blind watchmaking was explained away through Natural Selection.

It was such a blanket statement.

I didn’t like it.

Despite Dawkins’ lucid writing, every other time I’d pause and ask:

What do you mean?

I’d have to read several other books to at least have an idea of what evolution by Natural selection was. But it did not sit well with me.

My central thesis was nature does not select.

So, why do we say it does?

Understanding nature

Natural selection is a theory that works in populations.

Three essential qualities, at least according to Lewontin, are variability, heredity, and reproduction.

But even with these qualities, nature does not select.

Organisms survive, migrate, or mate but have they been selected?

If we are to be strictly objective about it, does it mean organisms that survive long enough to have viable offspring for generations have been selected?

Or, is it that they survived and reproduced to have more generations?

It is hard to defend the former idea. It is easy to stick with the latter.

It was Lynn Margulis who made it clear to me. I needed a voice as strong as Margulis’ to strengthen my resolve.

Nature does not select. It destroys.

Here’s how to look at nature

Nature comprises matter and space.

Simple.

In one small point in the vast expanse, is a blue globe with living organisms.

We like to think of Mother Nature as Earth alone, but I find it limiting.

Nature simply is matter and surrounding space. Earth constitutes matter. It floats in space.

Enter a simple concept — an organism and its universe.

Once you get this idea, you will understand a profound law in physics. It’s very simple.

You have a system. Let’s call it A. Everything external to A is A’s universe.

If in A’s universe, there’s another system, let’s call it B, then B is a part of A’s universe.

Similarly, everything external to B, including A, is B’s universe.

Now, you are a system. Everything external to you is your universe.

You have a mother. Everything external to your mother is your mother’s universe.

The concept is:

A system and its universe.

I call it the robust map. It remains unchanged regardless of the system of interest.

The idea of a system and its universe is the core of the second law of thermodynamics. If you have understood the robust map, you have a baseline understanding of this second law.

To add to this, the law states that all systems eventually grind to a halt.

Regarding life, what it means is all organisms die.

If nature comprises matter and space, and this second law says that eventually, all organisms die; nature annihilates.

Nature does not select. It annihilates.

The organism selects

Organisms are the selectors of their paths.

If you intend to have a family, you select who will be your spouse or co-parent. If not, you select if you’d want to go the hermit way or the religious way. Or other new budding ways.

The point is, you select.

Organisms select.

You select, without conscious awareness, the air you want to breathe. You take in roughly 20% of oxygen but consume around 1/5th of it. Plants do the same at night, but during the day, they prefer carbon dioxide.

Plants select. Organisms select.

At the cellular level, the membrane allows for a distinct set of molecules to get inside it. It selects what goes in and what goes out.

If it is mobile, it decides where it will go. Just look at what the amoeba does.

Cells select. Organisms select.

Even Pavlov’s dog selects.

Pavlov’s dog

Pavlov’s dog was not a victim of Pavlov.

It could have fallen victim to Pavlov’s ingenious tricks, but it is the dog that selected to follow the bell and the appetite.

If it was a male dog and there happened to be a female dog in heat, it would not have taken heed to Pavlov’s antics. It would have selected a different form of appetite. A sexual one.

It was Pavlov who selected to use a bell and not a whistle. He selected to use a platter or a dish — or so we’re told — and not a piece of canvas.

Classical conditioning is a story of two organisms selecting their paths.

Eventually, paths once trodden with minimal harm become paths one easily decides to cross once more. And again. And again.

While walking from campus to where I used to pick mini-buses headed home, I wondered why I preferred one route over the many other possible options.

The reason was I had selected one, and since it was familiar after the first attempt, I remained as the one preferred route over the others.

Like Pavlov and his dog, I was not selected. I made the selection

To see clearly, here are a pair of spectacles

Selection is a step away from creativity.

If I want to see clearly, I have two options.

Either I wait for my genes, at a sub-cellular level to elevate its game, either intentionally or by tinkering. Or, I walk into an optician’s shop.

The second option is cheaper. We have created this option which did not lie in the genes.

Our ancestors could hardly imagine such a creative thingamajigger. But here we are.

Organisms select. As they select, they create.

Organisms create, nature annihilates.

Eventually, nature wins

You have to recall that every time you create, you cancel the options for yourself and sometimes for others.

Assume A and B live in a world with one basket filled with a finite number of oranges. If A picks an orange, it means B will have less to pick from.

If B picks an orange, A will have less to pick from the next time.

Everything external to A, including B, is A’s universe. Everything external to B, including A, is B’s universe. So A in a very negligible way, destroys B and vice versa.

A and B do nature’s bidding.

Nature annihilates.

But along the way, these two organisms select and create.

Now you see why I am very uncomfortable with the concept of natural selection. That’s why I’d regularly ask the authors the question at the start of this article.

Little wonder why the name of my theory is Organismal Selection.

Organisms create, but nature annihilates.

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Evolution
Natural Selection
Organismal Selection
Creativity
Annihilation
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