Defining Design

Design contrasts with chaos, confusion, and random accumulation.

Design describes a whole that is composed of qualitatively and quantitatively determined components, such that the components contribute collectively to achieving a common, determinate end.

The Argument from Design

The Argument from Design invokes the immanent order in the world to demonstrate the existence of God. In this argument, when we speak of design and order, we intend teleological and purposive order. We perceive phenomena moving in an orderly fashion toward a fixed end. The phenomena themselves lack any form of intelligence or knowledge. There must, consequently, be a wise and intelligent being who guides phenomena in their movements toward their respective ends.

This argument consists of two premises, one of which is empirical and the other purely rational.   

The first premise highlights the various observations conducted on the most sensitive and subtle questions in the different fields of empirical and natural sciences-which only corroborate the average person's perception of nature-and affirms that these observations clearly demonstrate the existence of an amazing and marvelous order in nature and the world. The tiny cells that make up our bodies, incorporating within themselves a mindboggling complexity of living material; the organs that are the larger constituents of our bodies (heart, brain.nervous system, circulatory system, etc.), exhibit a perfectly harmonious collaboration among themselves; the amazing adaptability of living creatures which enables them to adjust adequately to varying circumstances, which in certain eases leads to evolutionary mutations in a species; the astonishing variety of ecosystems that provide a matrix in which numerous life cycles can thrive; the incredible ability of the natural order of existence in providing for all the needs of the inhabiting creatures, from the tiniest organisms to the most complex ones.

When we say that the cosmos is purposeful, we mean that the cosmos pursues an objective that is determined by a set of universal laws which follows a general course. The laws that determine the purpose of things in the cosmos are all universal laws; they are not particular or individual so as to justify a discussion on the purpose of particular, individual beings.

The fact that unintelligent beings exhibit a discernible, purposive progress toward realizing their inherent objectives is clearly on display in the great array of phenomena that surround us.

A common instance of this truth, which we tend to overlook, is the amazing concurrence between the birth of a baby and the emergence of milk in the mother's breast. It is true that this is a natural process, but this does not answer the question of how the mother's breast-an apparently inanimate and mindless organ-succeeds in detecting the newborn's need for food and how it manages to arrange the natural process in such a way as to provide the necessary nourishment for the infant at its birth, thus ensuring the survival of the species. This objective is one which can be accomplished only by an intelligent being, although this in no way is meant to deny that natural and instinctual processes are at work.

John Smith, an able and renowned architect and a strong believer in God, was given a project to construct a huge dam mainly to coordinate irrigation for farming. The supervisor of the project, Adam Carnegie, though a close friend of John, was an avowed atheist. And the two did occasionally engage in friendly quarrels over the subject of God. The plan John Smith offered for building the dam seemed very appropriate, and he competently implemented the plan, thus constructing a very admirable edifice. After the completion of the project, Adam wrote an email to John praising his expertise and competence and admiring the dam he succeeded in building. In reply, John quipped that his three-year-old daughter created the design of the dam. Adam, who was at a loss at reading this remark, wrote back that John must be kidding. And John, expecting to see this reply, retorted, “Yeah, I was just kidding. But if it is impossible to believe that a three-year-old is capable of designing a dam, how is it possible to believe that the intricate, universal order governing this world is the result of blind and random chance.”

Stormy Seas

A cool and mild breeze rushed through Peter's hair, caressing his face gently as he stood on the deck of the ship, ready to set sail. The sea birds, flying above, produced a keen yet enjoyable melody that increased the beauty of the scene.

The passengers and cargo safely aboard, the sails rushed open, giving the ship its starting push. A voyage on the sea, when the waters are calm and the sky is sunny, can be very pleasing. Peter tried to make the best of it as it was his first time on the sea. Staring down in the clean and transparent water, he could see the colorful fish swimming about and playing in their pools.

Peter was not a religious man, but a successful businessman, who was on vacation. Tired from the long days of work and the hustle and bustle of the business life, he was here to rest.

The gentle sun put him to a pleasant sleep. He couldn't tell how long he had slept when the violent shaking of the ship forced him awake. The first thing he caught sight of as he opened his eyes was a hellish lightening that pierced the dark of the sky. The thunder followed shortly thereafter.

In a short span of time, his beautiful vacation spot had turned into a dark and tempestuous ocean that wildly cast the ship about. The massive waves drove madly at the ship, as though the sea was fighting mercilessly to devour its prey. A few hours ago, Peter couldn't have imagined such a turn of events and such a swift change in the atmosphere. His hope for a pleasant vacation was utterly shattered, and now he was filled with absolute fear and despair.

The helplessness of his state was overwhelming. Girls and women screamed and wept. The men ran about wildly. trying to do whatever they could to increase the hope of their survival. But alas! Safety seemed a swiftly receding phantom that relinquished the passengers of the ship to the mercy of the turbulent sea. With the onrush of every wave, Peter-who had by now retreated to the back of the deck where there were rails that he could grab on to, giving him a faint feeling of relative stability-felt the encompassing grip of death closing in on him.

Yet, when submerged in the deepest pits of despair, Peter remembered his mother, Fatimah, whose prayers in times of distress were a sweet and enduring image in his mind. With this image, a warm and nourishing feeling suddenly filled his heart. The coldness of fear was now being counteracted by the warmth of hope in a savior, a powerful and transcendent God, whom he had long neglected.

It was amazing that though he had for so long considered himself an irreligious man, almost an atheist, he was now deriving comfort from the thought of God. In his heart, he turned to God, begging Him to spare their ship. He pleaded that if he were saved; he would certainly become a better man, one who would be pious, kind and generous. It was as though his essence was telling him that he could rely on God in the midst of the turmoil that engulfed him. He somehow knew that he could count on God. This trust was emerging from within him.

Hours later, the ship had sailed to safety. The passengers were exultant. There wasn't a better feeling in the world than that which they were experiencing in those moments of deliverance. Peter, happy to have survived, was only thinking of leaving the ship.