In 1831 Charles Darwin boarded the HMS Beagle to gather biological information from around the world. It was a wonderful opportunity for the young naturalist, and Darwin saw many fascinating wonders. The voyage is best known for its stop at the Galápagos Islands off the coast of Ecuador. There Darwin observed finches, mockingbirds and tortoises that varied distinctly from island to island. Some finches lived in coastal areas on the ground, others lived in forest trees, yet another lived in bushes. And the diet of these varieties varied considerably. One of the species ate buds and fruit, another prickly pear, others ate seeds and others were insectivores. And one of the insectivores even used a twig to fish out insects from crevices in the tree bark. Nicholas Lawson, the vice-governor who entertained Darwin over dinner claimed that so distinct were the tortoises from island to island that given the tortoise shell he could identify the island of origin.
Since then the Galápagos Finches in particular have become a celebrated icon of evolution. From academic dissertations and research papers to award-winning books and documentaries, they have been watched, dissected, analyzed, and praised. As science writer Jonathan Weiner put it, the changes in the beaks of the finches show us “Darwin’s process in action.” There’s only one problem: How did evolution create the process?
After Darwin, the twentieth century revealed the details of what should have been obvious. If Darwin’s evolutionary change brought about those different Galápagos Finches, it was driven by a profoundly complex process of chromosomes, genes and an army of molecular machines. We’re still learning about what Weiner calls “Darwin’s process” and it shows no sign of having evolved.
Consider the curious case of Carpodacus mexicanus (house finches) which began spreading throughout the United States in the 1940s from Mexico and the southwest. The beaks of these birds adapted to their new environments with great speed. Within a decade or so their beaks had adjusted to the new habitats. How could this occur to rapidly? Certainly not by evolution’s random mutations and natural selection. It was, as one science writer put it:
a complex interplay of processes … Interacting embryonic processes result in an initial level of phenotypic variation greater than what would be predicted from underlying genotypic variation alone.
In other words, complex embryonic machinery produce biological variation that responds to the environmental challenge far more efficiently and rapidly than evolution’s random mutation plus natural selection ever could. And that’s good because otherwise the birds would have failed in their new environments—evolution doesn’t work, but nature’s built-in adaptation machine does.
But in spite of this non evolutionary story of adaptation, evolutionists claim adaptation as proof of their idea. According to Ernst Mayr, “evolutionary change is also simply a fact owing to the changes in the content of gene pools from generation to generation.” Likewise, Isaac Asimov claimed that the peppered moth’s adaptation to industrial pollution proves evolution. And Steve Jones informed his readers that the changes observed in HIV (the human immunodeficiency virus) contain Darwin’s “entire argument.”
Such claims persist and even today evolutionists routinely claim examples of adaptation, from bacteria to birds, as evidence or even proof of evolution. It is another example of how vulnerable science is to simple and straightforward blunders in our thinking. This is not a complex scientific miscalculation or a clever logical fallacy. This is a blunder that is striking not for its subtly but for its transparency. Evolutionists cannot drop their theory though the science doesn’t support it, so they are driven to reprehensible reasoning. Religion drives science, and it matters.