Statistically, the probability of any one of us being here is so small that you’d think the mere fact of existing would keep us all in a contented dazzlement of surprise.
Lewis Thomas, The Lives of a Cell
Here we are. It’s impossible to overemphasize the improbabilities implied in those three words. So many instances of pure, blind, zillion-to-one, flukey luck allow you to sit there reading this column just as I now sit here writing on my laptop. Four examples, out of many:
Blind luck led to the start of life on Earth about 4 billion years ago. Through a series of uncountable permutations and combinations, the precursor molecules of life somehow fashioned themselves into an arrangement that automatically reproduced itself. This particular fluke may have occurred more than once, since all but the final version were wiped out by the then-frequent bombardments of huge comets and asteroids.
Untold numbers of reproductions over those 4 billion years — first by self-reproduction, and later by sexual interweaving of genetic material — resulted in the humans you know as Mom and Dad. If just one of those reproductions had misfired, you wouldn’t be reading this. (For that matter, what were the odds against your parents meeting? Who would you be if they hadn’t?)
Taking this to its logical conclusion, of some 5 million spermatozoa launched when your father climaxed, it was blind luck that the one that resulted in the singular entity you see in the mirror every morning won the race to enter your mother’s egg. Congratulations!
Yet only 65 million years ago (a moment of geological time) an asteroid perhaps the size of Manhattan Island collided at high speed with our planet, causing global devastation. The casualties included every dinosaur then alive. Mammals, which until then had been small and generally nocturnal, not only survived, they thrived in the newly vacant ecological niches. Eventually they branched out into hundreds of new species, including homo sapiens. Had that asteroid missed, none of us would be here.
While the odds of you or me being alive are tiny, the odds of you and me are practically infinitesimal. In the face of all this sheer luck, it’s hard not to feel grateful. I could, of course, take the other tack and say, “The fact that I’m here proves that the odds of it happening are 100 percent.” But late at night when the house is quiet, wonder takes over from pragmatism, and I experience Lewis Thomas’ “contented dazzlement of surprise,” knowing I won the lottery of life. So did you.
Barry Evans (barryevans9@yahoo.com) dedicates this column to the blue-green algae from which we’re all descended.
This article appears in Why Do People Hate Kirk Girard?.
Science explains how and standing alone does seem ‘So many instances of pure, blind, zillion-to-one, flukey luck’. Faith answers the why.
Totally lost me at “sexual interweaving of genetic material”.
Sorry to confuse, Jason. Sexual reproduction (dating back about a billion years) means that offspring get the COMBINED genetic traits of both parents–lots more variation (and hence faster evolution) than with self-reproduction.
barry
Excuse me, Dawn..yeah right here in the back row…yes, thank you. I disagree. Faith can’t tell us “why” about anything. Faith means you don’t know, but choose to believe anyway. That’s cool, it’s each of our prerogatives to have our own thoughts, but no one knows why we are here. Each of us, you, Barry, me, and the rest of the esteemed audience gathered here can have whatever theories we want. We can even call them something other than theories…like beliefs or faith. I’m calling my theory Bob. Bob knows why we are here. He had nothing to do with it, and he won’t tell me, but he knows. That might sound silly, but no sillier than people who hold to their dogma with faith and claim it explains anything.
All we see right now are effects of some unknown cause. The effect is always subordinate to the cause. No effect may occur without a cause. That doesn’t mean a cause doesn’t exist outside our knowledge, yet hasn’t met the conditions to generate an effect. But the cause is unknown to us. We see the effects all around us, but the cause is hidden.
Maybe a more practical example: We all know that a cat “works.” It walks, eats, and lives. However, we do not know the truth behind why it works. If we take it apart (which traditionally is how we attempt to discover why things work) we then have a non-working cat. We understand hearts, lungs, and such, but that is how a cat works, not why. The truth of why a cat works is unknown by us. Yet they do work and this is something we do not understand.
So each of us can believe what we want. We can have faith, or not, but in the end no one knows why we are here.
Excuse me, Mike…A theory is not to be confused with your “prerogatives to have our own thoughts” (whatever that means. Theories are based upon general principles and comprised of a collection of propositions that illustrate those principles.
Yes, “each of us can believe what we want,” and I believe that you ought to learn how to write.
Okay Buzz, we can play word games if you want.
There are many definitions of “theory.” Most people, I assume including you, understand the connotation of the word. I meant a belief, policy, or procedure proposed or followed as the basis of personal action.
Everyone has theories and they aren’t always based upon general principles and comprised of a collection of propositions that illustrate those principles. Sometimes they are simply based on silly ancient notions.
A prerogative is an exclusive or special right, power, or privilege belonging to a person, group, or class of individuals.
So prerogative to have our own thoughts or theories simply means: you can think what you will.
And it’s your prerogative to have a theory that I need to learn to write.
“prerogative to have our own thoughts or theories simply means: you can think what you will.”
Then why didn’t you simply say “you can think what you will,” instead of playing “word games”?
It isn’t a “theory,” that you need to learn English, it’s an opinion — one for which you’ve provided me with convincing support for.
Bwhahahah…well isn’t this interesting. To find a pedantic troll who accuses me of needing to learn English while ending his sentences with prepositions.
“one for which you’ve provided me with convincing support for.” Did that come from the department of redundancy department manual?
Sorry, there’s no redundancy in that sentence. As for your feeble swipe at my use of prepositions:
“When criticized for occasionally ending a sentence on a preposition, Winston Churchill replied, ‘This is the type of errant pedantry up with which I will not put.'”
Really? No redundancy? Hmmm, seems so to me. Whatever the case, it also seems a silly thing to squabble over. (hehe)
Excellent quote by Churchill. Although there is disagreement as to the true origin of the quote, it’s brilliant.