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This article was originally published as a chapter in the book “Design and Catastrophe: 51 Scientists Explore Evidence in Nature"
As someone who is willing to consider design as a legitimate aspect of nature, how I view the natural world can be very different from many of my scientist friends and colleagues. They believe in metaphysical naturalism: all that exists in the universe is matter and energy which, combined with the fundamental laws of physics, are sufficient to explain the universe, the earth, and the diversity of life on Earth. Metaphysical naturalism assumes that simple materials and processes can produce higher-order complexity— that is, the universe grew out of simpler starting materials. However, this assumption is antithetical to the major assumption of those of us who consider design as an explanation. Design requires that some other entity exists who is responsible for that design. The existence of this entity means complexity existed from the beginning. Thus, considering design as an explanation leads to a very different view of the world.
As I work within and evaluate the design paradigm, I am struck by how well-honed organisms are. They are composed of many different interacting parts that form complex systems. Often, these systems are integrated with other systems, culminating in the entire organism. Such organisms are what I call “integrated wholes.” All major general biology textbooks begin by presenting the chemical and physical processes that govern life, then build on these processes to discuss molecular and cellular biology, followed by anatomy and physiology, and end with ecology.
As I have taught from these textbooks, two things have occurred to me. First, at every level, I continuously see the theme of “integrated wholes.” From the function of a single cell to the balance within an ecosystem, I see integrated wholes becoming part of larger integrated wholes. Second, the textbooks fail to emphasize the idea of integrated wholes, and instead favor a reductionist approach in an effort to support the evolutionary connectivity of life. The authors are preoccupied with explaining the origin of structures or processes, produced by the lucky accumulation/modification of existing parts, but they do not consider the level of integration necessary for these structures or processes to exist. It is like explaining the shape and function of a gear in a clock, without considering the function of the clock as a whole. Even if we understood all of the parts that make up a structure or process, this is often insufficient for understanding the entire process itself as the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. I believe that design leads us to see and appreciate this aspect of nature far more clearly than metaphysical naturalism does.
To illustrate more fully what I mean by “integrated wholes,” I will use one of my favorite groups of animals: spiders. Spiders are one of eleven orders of arachnids, at least six of which are known to possess chemical systems used in either predation, defense, or both. The most current phylogenetic analysis,[1] in conjunction with their unique anatomical features, suggests that these chemical systems likely originated independently at least five times. Spiders are unique among arachnids in possessing and using silk. Simply saying that spiders have silk does not do this amazing ability justice. In fact, spiders have up to eight different silk glands,[2] each capable of producing a unique type of silk. Almost every structure a spider makes from silk is composed of many of these separate silk sub-types. Spider venom is even more complex, being composed of hundreds to even thousands of proteins, peptides, amines, and other components.[3]
Nevertheless, it does not end there; venom and silk can only do their work when they are combined with the other amazingly complex systems within spiders. For example, spiders acquire information about their environment through numerous specialized sensory organs (lyriform organs, tricobothria, chemosensory hairs) located on the outside of their body. These weird and wonderful sensory organs must in turn be integrated with the hydraulic muscular system via the nervous system.
My point is that every behavior is the outcome of the sophisticated integration among all of the spider’s individual systems. The fact that a spider can choose to inject venom and, if it chooses to inject venom, control the amount of venom injected is astonishing.[4] What makes a spider a spider is the completeness of this integration, and this integration cannot be reduced without losing the essence of what it means to be a spider. Even though at some level none of the individual parts that a spider possesses is unique, no other organism integrates all of these parts the way spiders do. No other organism even comes close. What it means to be a spider is more than just an individual part; it is the summation of all those parts combined.
Because I allow myself to consider design as a driving force in nature, I see the world differently. Design leads me to consider not only the individual parts of an organism or process but also the interaction of those parts and the summation of those interactions that make up the whole. It leads me to think of organisms not only from the bottom up but from the top down, the inside out, and every other direction. A pluralistic approach alone will enable us to understand and model how “wholes” work.[5] The entirety of the whole is more important than any of the individual parts.
[1] JA Ballesteros, PP Sharma. A critical appraisal of the placement of Xiphosura (Chelicerata) with account of known sources of phylogenetic error. Systematic Biology 2019; 68(6):896–917. doi:10.1093/sysbio/syz011.
[2] R Foelix. Biology of spiders. 3rd ed. New York: Oxford University Press; 2011, p. 140.
[3] W Nentwig, L Kuhn-Nentwig. Main components of spider venoms. In: W Nentwig, editor. Spider ecophysiology. Berlin Heidelberg: Springer– Verlag; 2013, pp. 191–202.
[4] AM Cooper, DR Nelsen, WK Hayes. 2015. The strategic use of venom by spiders. In: Evolution of venomous animals and their toxins. Dordrecht (The Netherlands): Springer Science+Business Media; 2015, pp. 1–18. doi:10.1007/978-94-007-6727-0_13-1.
[5] JW Krakauer, AA Ghazanfar, A Gomez-Marin, MA MacIver, D Poeppel. Neuroscience needs behavior: correcting a reductionist bias. Neuron 2017; 93(3):480–490.
David R. Nelsen is an associate professor of biology at Southern Adventist University. He holds a PhD in Biology from Loma Linda University. He has co-authored several scientific articles and book chapters, including “The Strategic Use of Venom by Spiders”; “Venom Collection from Spiders and Snakes: Voluntary and Involuntary Extractions (“Milking”) and Venom Gland Extractions”; and “Poisons, Toxungens, and Venoms: Redefining and Classifying Toxic Biological Secretions and the Organisms that Employ Them.” His current research focuses on the behavioral ecology of venom and silk use by arachnids.