"In
describing the Fox protenoid polymerization experiment, Dr. Yardley, you said that by
playing around with the time and temperature variables, Fox was able to incorporate more
neutral and basic amino acids into the protenoid polymers synthesized through condensation
reactions. Is this right?" Mr. Tappin inquired.
"Yes,"
affirmed the professor.
"In
effect, Dr. Yardley, doesn't this mean," pressed the lawyer, "that if we are to
consider the Fox experiment to be a simulation of Archean era conditions, then not only
must we assume there were specialized pockets in which amino acids could gather together
in an oil bath for 3-4 hours at precisely 170 degrees Celsius, but there were also other
pockets in these volcanic areas in which amino acids could be bathed in oil for slightly
less, or slightly more, than 3-4 hours, at temperatures which were somewhat higher, or
somewhat lower, than 170 degrees Celsius so that protenoids with greater numbers of
neutral and basic amino acids could be incorporated into these polymer chains?"
"Yes,"
stated the professor. "We believe the entire Archean era world was a prebiotic
version of a modern laboratory in which there were many different kinds of evolutionary
niche being explored. In these various pockets, millions, if not billions, of different
sorts of experiment were being run across the several hundred million years required for
protocells or primitive organisms to emerge.
"At
this time, I should add," Dr. Yardley indicated, "there have been experiments in
which polypeptide polymers have been observed to form in the absence of water when
mixtures of amino acids were incubated at a temperature of 65 degrees Celsius for a period
of 40 days. So one doesn't have to be tied to the 170 degree Celsius figure of the early
protenoid experiments."
"Wouldn't
you agree, Professor Yardley," suggested the lawyer, "that finding a little
corner of the Archean era world which will allow one to incubate a mixture of amino acids
at 65 degrees Celsius for precisely forty days, twenty-four hours a day, no more or no
less, is really only a variation on the problem which is being discussed?"
"I
guess so," the professor responded, "but this latter experiment does introduce a
broader spectrum of possibilities into the picture."
"Let us
assume, for the moment," Mr. Tappin proposed, "that, as a result of some of the
points brought out previously under cross-examination, the amino acids used in the
simulation experiments of Fox, or this more recent 65 degree/40 day experiment, were not
forthcoming from Strecker synthesis in the Archean era ocean. Given this assumption, how
would these amino acids find their way into the mixing bowl pockets or crucibles of the
different volcanic areas?"
"As a
number of experiments have indicated," the professor stated, "there are a
variety of alternative pathways to amino acid formation other than Strecker
synthesis."
"Would,"
inquired the lawyer, "urea [CO (NH2)2], malic acid (C4H6O5)
and paraformaldehyde [(CH2O)3 ] - which are just three of the
reactants used in laboratory experiments in order to help synthesize a few, specific amino
acids - would these compounds have been readily available in the Archean era?"
"How
readily the various compounds cited by you would have been available might be an issue of
some debate," the professor offered, "but we believe there was a reasonably good
chance such compounds would have been synthesized under various conditions during the
Archean era."
"Would
this last answer remain the same, Dr. Yardley," queried the defense counsel, "if
one were to raise the same kind of question in conjunction with cyanogen (C2N2)
and cyanoacetylene (HC3N) which, together with hydrogen cyanide (HCN) have been
used in laboratory experiments to synthesize nucleic bases such as uracil, cytosine,
guanine and thymine?"
"Yes,
my last answer would remain substantially the same," the professor stated.
"Dr.
Yardley, do any of the alternative pathways to which you have alluded produce all of the
amino acids?" Mr. Tappin asked. "In other words, in accordance with what has
been established previously through testimony and cross-examination, aren't these pathways
frequently quite specific in terms of the reactants, temperatures, and conditions that are
necessary to generate certain kinds of amino acid?"
"This
is often the case, yes," the professor confirmed, "but not always. Some methods
have produced a number of different amino acids by varying the experimental conditions
slightly, although, as you have indicated, no one method has generated all of the amino
acids."
"If no
one method has generated all of the amino acids," hypothesized the lawyer,
"could one reasonably argue there might have been some physical distance which may
have separated these pathways from one another since these alternative pathways often
presuppose different precursor reactants, different temperatures, and so on?"
"I
guess one could argue in this fashion," the professor acknowledged, "but I don't
think one can assume great distances were necessarily involved. Many of these reactions
may have happened in, and around, the same volcanic areas."
"Alternatively,
Professor," the defense counsel pointed out, "one cannot necessarily assume
relatively great distances were not involved either, can one?"
"No,
one can't," Dr. Yardley conceded.
"If,"
Mr. Tappin postulated, "one assumes the Strecker synthesis process, followed by tidal
movement to intertidal zones, was not the primary means of delivering amino acids to
places where condensation reactions could take place, is there a secondary or backup
account of how amino acids generated from different chemical pathways and under different
conditions would have come together in Fox's prebiotic mixing bowl?"
"I
suppose," the professor replied, "one would have to speak in terms of chance,
random processes in order to account for how these kinds of events might be
possible."
"Is
this an explanation, Dr. Yardley, or an assumption?" asked Mr. Tappin.
"In
other words, if one has no reliable baseline from which to construct distribution models
that permit one to demonstrate how a series of unrelated and complex events might
reasonably be anticipated to come together, what exactly is being explained? Isn't one
merely assuming something has happened in a particular way and labeling that assumption
with the name of "chance events"?"
"Not
entirely," the professor asserted. "If one were to take a large enough group of
monkeys and put them together with a sufficiently large set of typewriters, then,
mathematically, one could predict, with a fair amount of confidence, that, sooner or
later, one of the monkeys would type a perfect copy of, say, Hamlet."
"What
about," the lawyer wondered, " The Glass Bead Game by Hesse or,
since we seem to be dealing with science fiction here, something by Issac Asimov?"
"Objection
your Honor," Mr. Mayfield stated. "Learned counsel is being rather frivolous in
his questioning at this point."
"Your
Honor," Mr. Tappin countered, "since I have encountered the witness' argument
before, under other circumstances, and since the example of Hamlet was often
the work cited in this kind of argument, I was curious as to whether these monkeys were
stuck in some sort of creative rut and were unable to write anything else."
"As was
true in the case of the proverbial cat with the same propensity," Judge Arnsberger
replied, "this sort of curiosity is not likely to have a long life time in my
courtroom. You've made your point, Mr. Tappin, let's move on. The prosecution's objection
is overruled."
"Your
Honor," asked Dr. Yardley, "may I be permitted to answer the question?"
"Certainly,"
the judge responded, "but you are under no obligation to do so."
"I
understand, your Honor," acknowledged the professor, "but, nevertheless, I would
like to address the question."
Turning back
toward the defense counsel, the professor said: "In theory, there is no limit on the
nature of the books which could be produced by these monkeys. So, Hesse's work, or the Foundation
series by Asimov, both would be possibilities, or, if you like, you can even throw in some
Raymond Chandler."
"Dr.
Yardley," inquired Mr. Tappin, "wouldn't one be able to predict, with
considerably more confidence, and based on empirical evidence rather than on a mathematics
rooted in contentious and unprovable assumptions, that, sooner or later, all of the
typewriters would be destroyed, all the paper would have been used up, and the monkeys
would have been dead long before so much as the thought, let alone the typed reality, of
even a coherent paragraph of any kind would have occurred to these monkeys, whether
considered collectively or individually?"
"Objection,
your Honor," Mr. Mayfield interjected.
Before Judge
Arnsberger could speak, Mr. Tappin announced: "I'll withdraw the question, your
Honor.
"Let's
assume," postulated the defense attorney, "the mathematical theory to which you
are alluding is true. How large would the set of typewriters and group of monkeys have to
be in order for a copy of, for example, Hamlet, to get written by one of the
monkeys, and how long would all of this take?"
"We are
dealing here with the mathematics of the infinite," stated the professor. "If
one had an infinite number of typewriters, monkeys and paper, then, at some point, Hamlet
would emerge.
"The
interesting possibility in all of this is that, given such starting assumptions, Hamlet
might very well get written within a finite length of time since there is no way to pin
down where, in the infinite series of events, the desired copy of Hamlet
would be forthcoming. The book might appear after 10,000 years or 10,000,000 million years
or 100,000,000 million years, and even though these numbers are very large, they are
finite, and, more importantly, they are reminiscent of the sort of time considerations
involved in origin-of-life issues."
"This
mathematical theory, Professor, seems to be assuming," Mr. Tappin suggested,
"that in any given single striking action, all keys of the typewriter have an equal
opportunity of being struck by any given monkey, with no single striking trial having any
influence on the striking actions which precede or follow it. In other words, each
striking action of the moment is entirely independent from all other striking actions,
whether performed by the same monkey or by other monkeys. Would you agree with this Dr.
Yardley?"
"Yes, I
suppose so," the professor agreed.
"Your
mathematical theory appears to be assuming, as well," the defense counsel continued,
"that every possible sequence of key-striking events, eventually, will be represented
by the activities of the monkeys. Furthermore, since the sequence of key-striking events
which makes up or constitutes the work of Hamlet would be one such set of
sequential key-striking events, then one has opened the door for the possibility that at
least one of the sets of independent key-striking events will give expression to a
sequence which matches Hamlet word for word.
"Is the
foregoing a fair way of describing the situation?" the lawyer asked.
"I
believe" replied the professor, "the reasoning of the theory runs, more or less,
along the lines you have indicated."
"Has
anyone tested this mathematical theory empirically?" inquired the defense counsel.
"I'm
not quite sure what you mean," the professor said.
"Has
anyone, for instance," Mr. Tappin specified, "attempted to determine whether or
not the assumption of independence with respect to key- striking action is warranted in
the context of the activities of real, rather than theoretical, monkeys? Or, has anyone
tried to discover whether all sets of sequential key-striking activity are equally
represented or whether some sets are over-represented or under-represented?"
"No, I
don't think anyone has tried any of what you are suggesting," the professor
responded.
"Has
anyone attempted to discover," queried Mr. Tappin, "whether monkeys would
continue to type from hour to hour, day to day, week to week, and month to month as a
demonstration of their capacity, in principle, to be able to produce any kind of effort
which would be comparable in length to the work of Hamlet?"
"Not
really," answered the professor.
"Dr.
Yardley, was there an infinite number of molecules on the surface, or in the atmosphere,
of the Archean era Earth?" asked the lawyer. "Or, was there an infinite number
of chemical reactions which went on during the Archean era? Or, was there an infinite
amount of energy available to run those reactions?"
"No, of
course not," the professor said.
"Then,"
Mr. Tappin proposed, "what may or may not happen in a universe of infinite monkeys,
typewriters and paper, really doesn't constitute an appropriate way of modeling objects,
processes and events which are finite in nature, does it?"
"Perhaps
not," admitted the professor, "but the basic principle is, nonetheless,
suggestive. Given large numbers of even finite chemical events, then certain kinds of
events might become more likely over the long run, although these same events may appear
to be very unlikely in the short run."
"Wouldn't
the projected likelihood of such events depend on the nature of those events?" the
defense lawyer inquired. "Wouldn't one have to be able to provide some good reason
why, in the long run, one might reasonably expect events with a specific character to
occur that one would not anticipate to take place in the short run?
"More
specifically, Professor, do we really have any reasons aside from, or independent of, the
vague notion of chance events, which would permit us to suppose that in the long run, we
reasonably can expect a bunch of amino acids which are generated through different
pathways and under different circumstances to all end up in the same place at the same
time? Moreover, if we don't have anything independent of the notion of chance, random
events with which to work, then aren't we back where we started - namely, isn't this a
matter of assumption rather than a matter of scientific proof or demonstration?"