Right at the center of the Christmas story is the assertion that God came in the person of Jesus to save the people on this earth. The cosmic Word that created heaven and earth “became flesh and lived among us,” as the Gospel of John writes. That makes it sound like we’re quite special. Or to some critics, that we think we’re a little too special and that somehow this universe was made just for us.
And this leads me to cosmic fine-tuning, also called the anthropic principle. Is it fair game to let the oft-maligned Wikipedia define the term because it actually does an excellent job?
The conditions that allow life in the Universe can only occur when certain universal fundamental physical constants lie within a very narrow range, so that if any of several fundamental constants were only slightly different, the Universe would be unlikely to be conducive to the establishment and development of matter, astronomical structures, elemental diversity, or life as it is understood.
Given this definition, it’s easy to see why this is “fine tuning,” but why also the “anthropic principle”? Since the 1960s, when scientists began to identify these discrete, precisely calibrated parameters that produced the universe we know, they also found that they provide for the emergence of conscious, moral life. “Anthropic” comes from the Greek word for “human being,” anthropos, and states that the universe is fitted from its inception for the emergence of life in general and intelligent, moral life in particular (though not necessary earthly human beings like you and me).
Cosmic fine-tuning seems like a decisive victory by offering scientific support that God created and a defeat for the common atheist assertion that we are the products of blind, random, impersonal forces. All this might appear conclusive to Christians and has led many believers to nod in agreement with Freeman Dyson, the physicist who spent many years at Princeton’s famed Institute for Advanced Study:
The more I examine the universe and the details of its architecture, the more evidence I find that the universe in some sense most have known we are coming.
Fine-tuning seems to present evidence in the structure of creation for this to be the fingerprint of the Creator, of the kind of God who would create and then go on to do a Christmas miracle like coming to save us, inhabitants of one, solitary planet.
But is it a proof for the God of Christmas? Here’s where it’s easy to overstate the case. And that fact brings me to counter arguments. Some present the multiverse theory as a rejoinder—in other words, there have been innumerable attempts at other universes, which makes this one far from special. But since my colleagues in science tell me this theory is solely metaphysical speculation because it is, in principle, inaccessible to scientific verification, I turn to philosophy directly and the strongest argument against fine-tuning as a proof for God’s creation. It’s a tautology. Simply put, we’re here in this particular universe. Whether its existence is perfectly calibrated or not, it’s the only universe we know. Because it exists, that sets the probability of its existence at 100%. (I.e., a tautology.) Similarly, it’s just as intrinsically improbable that a person named Greg is typing on a MacBook Pro at Cal State Chico on the fine-tuning argument because his friend and colleague Ric offered a challenge. But here I am. And I don’t offer that as evidence for a Designer.
Fair enough—I’ll conceded this is not a deductive proof for God that leaves no room for disagreement, in which you’d be irrational not to believe. Instead it’s a suppositional argument that offers confirmation for the judgment that this universe has design, which is confirmed, to some degree, by the incredible particularity of its parameters. If we suppose there to be a God who desired the existence of this universe, we should expect that this universe would have evidences of design. The fine-tuning of various physical constants is consistent with God’s design. Therefore it is reasonable to assert that God exists.
I offer an analogy. Suppose that tonight is my wedding anniversary. Scenario A: When my wife arrives home, I declare, “Laura, I’ve been planning to celebrate this anniversary, and here we are!” I hurriedly call a pizza company to deliver, grab a piebald set of napkins, glasses, and plates (there’s nothing washed in the same set), and fumble through some music on my iPod for background music. The night begins. Scenario B: When work ends, a limo picks Laura up with me seated inside to greet her, pouring Veuve Clicquot into luxurious champagne flutes, and I toast, “Here’s to our anniversary!” We arrive home, where a chef is set to serve dinner on a candle-lit table with crystal glassware while a string quartet plays in the background. And so the night begins...
Which of the two scenarios has more specific parameters and therefore better supports my contention that I really intended to celebrate my anniversary? I suspect it’s the second.
I leave you to draw conclusions from this analogy and let Alister McGrath, Oxford’s professor of theology and science offer the last word. Cosmic-tuning doesn’t present “irrefutable evidence for the existence or character of a creator God….” Instead McGrath writes,
What would be affirmed, however, is that they are consistent with a theistic worldview; that they reinforce the plausibility with the greatest ease within such a worldview; that they reinforce the plausibility of such a worldview for those who are already committed to them, and that they offer apologetic possibilities for those who do not yet hold a theistic position.
Sorry to those who want to prove the God of Christmas from the constants of the universe, to those who want something overpowering that demands assent. Instead we’ve got something much more subtle, beautiful, and fragile. Something like a baby, vulnerable, and crying. Something that evokes our wonder and humility. And faith. Something a lot like the Christmas story.