The presentations caused so much interest and questioning that I began to wonder if my presence was really necessary. Then they turned their attention to me. Most of the questioning was straightforward and factual, trying to elicit as much information as possible about what I could and couldn’t do. I performed various tests at their request, but found it hard to explain how I could do what I did; after all, how do you describe what you do when you lift your arm? You just do it.
Eventually the focus switched to the causes of my transformation, and the debate grew more heated. No-one had produced any more likely explanation than the four I had identified from the start, but some of the audience had assembled impressive structures of argument to support their viewpoints and rubbish the alternatives, in the true academic spirit. One conclusion they (nearly) all eventually agreed on: there was no way that the changes could possibly have happened by accident. They were too specific, too effective, and outside the normal human genome. As one said, ‘It’s as if some extremely advanced geneticist sat down to redesign the human body in order to improve various aspects of our efficiency.’ The problem being that the current state of knowledge about genetics was – at least – many decades away from being able to formulate the genetic changes required, let alone to re-engineer an existing adult body.
Finally, they remembered me again, and asked my views. ‘I don’t think that any of them ranks as more than a minus three probability, which puts them all in the bracket of unsupported speculation.’
Some confused looks for a few seconds. Academics hate demonstrating ignorance of something they should know about, so it was one of the journalists who broke ranks and put them out of their misery. ‘What scale of probability is that, Cade?’
I smiled smugly. ‘You evidently haven’t been reading my articles. If you had, you would have found the one I wrote a few years ago called, rather ironically in retrospect, “Scales of Belief”. It was prompted by the attempt in some states of the USA to accord equal status to the teaching of creationism and Darwinism, on the grounds that both are unproven hypotheses and are therefore equally valid. I thought that was ridiculous so I looked for a way of classifying beliefs in order to provide a scale of relative probability. So I devised a numerical scale running from plus five for beliefs which are based on incontrovertible, demonstrable fact – that the Earth is a spheroid, for example – to minus five for the flat-earthers. The midpoint – zero on the scale – would indicate a belief for which there is no evidence one way or the other and which may be inherently unprovable, such as the existence of God.’
I was enjoying getting into my lecture; what communicator doesn’t appreciate an attentive audience? The words flowed as I found I could remember the article perfectly. ‘So plus four would represent a belief backed by massive evidence, but for which there is a rival explanation which cannot be completely disproved. Conversely, minus four indicates a proposition which cannot be disproved, despite there being overwhelming evidence in favour of an alternative explanation. So to apply this to the creationist debate, the cumulative mass of evidence from many areas of research that life, the Universe and all that, have developed over a huge period of time is strong enough to score plus four; the belief that all of this was created in six days about six thousand years ago is therefore clearly a minus four proposition. To continue down the scale, plus three covers propositions for which there is strong evidence. Darwin’s theory of evolution is well evidenced and generally accepted. However, the status of natural selection as the sole driving force for evolution is still challenged by some scientists who fully accept that evolution occurred but dispute the relative importance of the mechanisms involved. Darwinism therefore scores plus three. Plus two beliefs would be those for which there is some evidence but not yet enough to make a generally accepted case, while plus one would refer to beliefs for which there is no evidence, but which seem very likely on the basis of probability, for example the existence of life elsewhere in the Universe. Minus one beliefs are those for which there is no direct or indirect evidence for or against, but appear unlikely on the basis of our understanding at this time. Minus two would involve an idea under attack from some evidence but not yet completely dismissed – this could encompass much of parapsychology – while minus three beliefs would be those which are countered by solid, generally accepted evidence, but which can’t entirely be ruled out. In the case of what happened to me, every explanation suggested so far runs head-on into strong evidence that it just isn’t possible, which is why I classify them as “minus three” probabilities.’
There was a thoughtful pause, before the emboldened journalist asked: ‘you don’t believe in God?’
‘Believe? No. Admit the possibility? Theoretically, yes, but I don’t think it helps us.’
‘Why not?’
‘I think of human knowledge as being like a gigantic jigsaw puzzle. In prehistory, it was an incomprehensible, jumbled mass. When people started to wonder about life, the Universe and so on, they had no information to help them so made it up, inventing a god or gods to explain it all. Over time, the best thinkers of each age began to assemble bits of the jigsaw, so little patterns of knowledge emerged. Unfortunately, the jigsaw is a tricky one so they sometimes assembled bits in the wrong way, but in fits and starts they made progress. As they did so, the scope for a divine creator gradually diminished. Now, we have assembled enough of the jigsaw to have a good idea of its overall shape, and many parts of it have been completed. Thousands of scientists are beavering away, fitting piece after piece. Despite this, the puzzle is so huge that it will be a very long time before it’s entirely finished – maybe the human race won’t survive that long. But it’s already clear that in principle it can be finished, right back to the Big Bang around fourteen billion years ago which started it all off. Potentially, we can understand everything in the physical Universe which has happened since then. Of course, you can argue that it was some supremely powerful being from another dimension – God, if you wish – who initiated the Big Bang, ensuring that the initial conditions were suitable for the development of the Universe as we know it. Since we have absolutely no idea what happened before the Big Bang – and may never know – that’s as likely or unlikely as any other possibility. But where does that get you? It only raises a whole set of unanswerable questions about where God came from, and so on. And all of the evidence of the human condition – the randomness, pain and unfairness – suggest strongly that if there is such a God, He cares no more about what happens to any individual person than a forester does about what happens to a leaf from one of the trees in his forest.’ I spotted a glass of water in front of me and swallowed gratefully, glad of the break. No-one jumped in with more questions, so the chairman took the opportunity to close the meeting, which had already overrun its scheduled time by a considerable margin.