Chapter 7. The Dilemma of Natural Evil
- Andrew Mytaf
- Feb 16
- 36 min read
Updated: Mar 19
Throughout human history, from ancient times to the present day, one question has consistently perplexed people—from children to the most sophisticated philosophers. This question, known as the "problem of evil," has become a stumbling block for many, turning sceptical thinkers away from all forms of religion. The ancient Greek philosopher Epicurus was the first to succinctly articulate this dilemma:
"If God is unable to prevent evil, then He is not all-powerful. If God is not willing to prevent evil, then He is not all-good. If God is both willing and able to prevent evil, then why does evil exist?"
This fundamental problem of theodicy has been the subject of rigorous debates and philosophical reflections for centuries. Religious thinkers have long grappled with it, yet the most enduring explanation addresses only part of the dilemma. According to this argument, human free will absolves God of responsibility for the evil arising from human actions. Each individual independently makes decisions—judging, punishing, taking what they deem theirs, and pursuing personal pleasure, often at the expense of others. As a result, we witness wars, violence, corruption, and perversions.
However, the "problem of evil" encompasses a much wider sphere than just human deeds. Its scope includes various manifestations of evil in the natural world: natural disasters, epidemics, diseases, parasitic organisms, harmful mutations, and even malignant tumours (though some might debate the latter's inclusion). All these phenomena lie beyond human will and defy direct control, raising deeper questions about their origin and purpose.
The most influential modern attempt to address the dilemma of natural evil is Alvin Plantinga's concept. This approach centres on the extrapolation of an archetypal figure—a "powerful non-human spirit"—found across the religious traditions of various cultures. A being akin to the biblical Satan is identified as the root cause and ultimate perpetrator of so-called "natural evil." However, this explanation does not fully absolve an omnipotent God of responsibility for allowing the existence and continued influence of such a spirit. The coexistence of this malevolent force, despite God's purported desire to eradicate evil, raises unresolved questions about divine omnipotence and purpose.
Among Christian philosophers of various eras, a general consensus has emerged: God's "tolerance" of evil must serve a higher purpose that outweighs the pain and suffering it causes. Over the centuries, thinkers have proposed numerous interpretations of this idea, which can be grouped into three main explanations.
1. "Theory of Contrast"
This theory posits that natural evil on Earth was deliberately instituted by God to create a contrast between life in accordance with His rules and life in opposition to them. A common analogy compares this to the uncomfortable benches at railway stations designed to prevent people from falling asleep. Similarly, the "discomfort" of natural evil is meant to prevent the illusion that one can live comfortably without God.
To scrutinise this explanation, we must address a mirror dilemma: the existence of pain and suffering in a universe created by God. This raises two possibilities: either God intentionally created suffering, challenging His absolute goodness, or suffering exists independently of Him, undermining His omnipotence.
If pain and suffering are intentional creations, it leads to a deeper question: What principles guide God's definitions of good and evil? If God is the ultimate measure of all things, does this not render good and evil subjective, determined solely by His will? To answer this, we must consider the nature of God.
God is not merely an infinite set of information; He is the embodiment of both infinite knowledge and personality. Principles are fundamental to what defines a personality, and thus, God is the personification of principles expressed in patterns. To be omnipotent, He must have the capacity to alter these patterns but deliberately chooses a specific order among them. For instance, one of God's defining facets must necessarily be logic, making Him the ultimate foundation of order and meaning. While He could defy this logic, He does not, for such a breach would unravel meaning itself and, ultimately, the coherence of His own personality.
A breach of logic would involve irreconcilable paradoxes, such as simultaneously existing and not existing or knowing everything while being entirely ignorant. These contradictions would dismantle the foundation of God's existence, reducing Him to non-being. When God declares, "I Am Life," He affirms His embodiment of patterns whose absence would lead to non-existence and the collapse of all meaning.
This understanding resolves the Euthyphro dilemma: Is something righteous because God wills it, or does God will it because it is righteous? If morality is purely an act of divine will, it becomes arbitrary, subject to change on a whim. Yet, if morality exists independently of God, it challenges His omnipotence. The solution lies in recognising God as the living embodiment of morality itself. His infinite choice to exist activates the potential for all being, making Him the ultimate personification of moral and logical order. This understanding of God as the embodiment of morality provides a foundation for addressing the existence of suffering, which emerges as a logical consequence of deviation from divine patterns.
When these patterns reach their state of absolute perfection—a defining attribute of God—they produce infinite bliss, free from decay or dissolution. Any deviation from these patterns diminishes this perfection, leading to suffering. If goodness were immune to opposition or contradiction, it would cease to be meaningful. For instance, if self-awareness and its absence were equally "good," the concept of goodness would lose its significance. Similarly, if rationality and absurdity held the same value, the very idea of meaning would collapse.
Suffering, therefore, is not an arbitrary creation but a logical consequence of moving away from the principles that sustain life and meaning. This process is analogous to how increasing stress erodes calmness, escalating into anxiety, panic, and, ultimately, terror until existence becomes unbearable.
If the human brain lacked the ability to abstract or to protect itself unconsciously from stress (such as losing consciousness at the pain threshold), it would eventually be overwhelmed by distress signals. Hypothetically, this would render it unable to perceive positive or neutral aspects of reality, leading to a state where suffering becomes all-encompassing. In such a condition, the brain would lose its ability to function, likely resulting in death as it succumbed to the inability to process anything beyond pain. (This raises the question of whether consciousness can persist in a state like Hell, conceived as the total absence of goodness).
At the same time, it is mistaken to believe that a decrease in pleasure merely leads to neutrality. Neutrality itself is a crucial component of pleasure, as it allows us to perceive and appreciate joy. Were pleasure experienced constantly at its peak, it would eventually become habitual, indistinguishable from neutrality. Thus, a decrease in pleasure represents a fall below this neutral baseline into states of discomfort or suffering.
This phenomenon becomes strikingly apparent when a person in a state of euphoria encounters stress or receives negative news. In such moments, they do not return to a calm, neutral state. Instead, they often experience a sharp and sudden descent from euphoria into anxiety. Physiologically, this can be explained by the rapid release of cortisol and adrenaline in response to stress, which dramatically lowers dopamine levels and triggers this abrupt transition. Similar patterns are frequently observed in cases of substance abuse, bipolar disorder, and extreme emotional upheaval.
If we need to explain this phenomenon by suggesting that an Infinite Personality relies on patterns integral to Its character, then yes, God is dependent upon Himself. This dependence is akin to how logic, to remain logical, must rely upon itself—otherwise, it would simply devolve into chaos or absurdity. A volitional departure from personal patterns would imply God's disappearance, as an impersonal God is logically inconceivable. Without self-awareness and adherence to patterns, God would cease to act and engage with creation in any purposeful way.
Thus, we may say that God constantly chooses to exist, defines His character as perfection (goodness), and selects the logical structure of reality (life). Choice here does not refer to the initial formation of qualities but to their choice as the active process of sustaining infinite being. Within this framework, a partial rejection of logic results in absurdity, while a partial rejection of "patterns of good" introduces the opposite of bliss—pain, which, in the complete breakdown of life patterns, transitions to non-existence.
Of course, God can surpass Himself, stepping beyond His patterns, but only to save creation. Enduring pain and suffering as a form of death through the disintegration of patterns means that God experiences the cumulative pain of creation. To mitigate their pain, God also makes certain compromises with His character, a process that could be seen as a "death" of God (a breakdown of patterns).
Yet God has not altered His fundamental inclination towards good and continues to choose life. This results in a paradoxical image of God engaging with "death" while actively resisting or overcoming this "death." Despite this, God remains unchanged; His principles endure as His desire and ultimate aim.
From this, we can conclude that God did not deliberately invent pain and death (non-existence); rather, He allows for their presence in reality as necessary concepts to be a personal God, that is, to preserve logical causality. Similarly, on Earth, God does not intentionally inflict suffering and pain as a form of re-education, nor does He prevent them (despite His ability to do so) for the same reason as in His universe—a concept elaborated further in the main argument of this chapter.
The notion of suffering as a deliberate tool for creating contrast with divine goodness paints a troubling image of God as one who purposefully degrades autonomous living conditions to highlight superiority of His version of reality. Such a concept risks reducing God to a manipulative figure who orchestrates suffering as a means to an arbitrary end—an idea as unsettling as a "TikTok operation" on a universal scale. The idea of God intentionally imposing suffering is less moral and less logical than the alternative concept: a necessary logical law integral to the structure of a personal and causally consistent reality.
2. "Balance Theory" or "Yin-Yang"
The "Balance Theory" aligns with a common secular perspective, proposing that natural evil is not a tragedy but a necessary component of a harmonious, self-regulating system that ultimately balances toward good. Many philosophical and religious teachings that subscribe to this view suggest that even in eternity, such processes will continue. They believe that humanity will simply develop a kind of immunity or a 'status quo', remaining unaffected by these forces.
Proponents of the theory argue that we cannot envision predators without fangs, specific stomach structures, and characteristic behaviours. Similarly, a world without natural cataclysms, lightning causing wildfire, roses without thorns, Venus flytraps without traps, or spiders without webs would be unimaginable. This line of thought appears logical and perhaps even acceptable at first glance. However, this perspective falters when confronted with the reality of suffering endured by living beings. From a moral standpoint, it struggles to reconcile the ideal of a benevolent God with the necessity of pain as part of an allegedly harmonious system.
It is worth noting that some advocates of this theory view such an arrangement, or "Plan B", as a temporary curse within a fixed period.
The central flaw in this theory is that it does not explain why natural evil is permitted; it merely points to its origin. Occasionally, supporters will suggest that this system is some kind of instructional allegory on renewal.
Special attention should be given to how advocates of "Balance Theory" explain the first part of Epicurus' dilemma, specifically human evil. They argue that without opposites, we would lack an understanding of the importance of noble actions. For example, courage would be meaningless without cowardice, generosity without greed, and ultimately, goodness itself would lack significance without the contrast of evil.
This bold claim suggests that even in eternity, active evil must persist to safeguard the value of good, implying that goodness requires perpetual suffering for its significance—a morally troubling proposition. To avoid such a conclusion, one might speculate that hell serves precisely as this concentrated opposition. Yet this raises a conundrum: hell entails no active deeds of evil, only the ongoing punishment of past actions. In this context, evil becomes a conceptual phenomenon, stripped of any active manifestation. If anything in this process of burning antinomial carriers could be considered a tangible manifestation of evil rather than an abstract notion, it would be the very tolerance of such a process itself. Indeed!
Despite this, many religious interpretations assert that contrast is unnecessary in eternity, as the universe has already journeyed through this contrast, which remains with us in the form of knowledge.
So why not begin with pure information, a kind of "screen adaptation" of contrasting manifestations of good and their devastating opposites, or simply endow humanity with unparalleled imagination and analytical power? Then, theoretically, a single piece of information might have sufficed. For instance, the Torah's book of Genesis (or Bereshit) describes Adam's exceptional abilities in memory, imagination, and analysis when he names all animals based on their characteristics. According to our hypothesis, Adam also receives knowledge of sin and its consequences. Notably, the original text uses two distinct roots for "receiving knowledge" and "applying knowledge," with the latter specifically describing the act of tasting the forbidden fruit.
Perhaps we should briefly pause our analysis of the second hypothesis to address a crucial issue within the example itself: Adam’s extraordinary intellect and awareness still failed to prevent him from making a disastrous choice. In most other scenarios, this might be explained as God having created a limited or flawed intellect, but not in our case, where we have taken an unusual position to rationally interpret the concept of God.
Despite Adam's exceptional intellect, his poor decision (leading to the Fall) is traditionally attributed not to a lack of understanding but to the inherent autonomy of free will. Of course, as noted in the previous chapter, we might consider a model in which created beings experience a sense of free will but are also programmed to be incapable of divergence from a set path. However, this "programming" raises several moral dilemmas.
Firstly, it brings up the issue of deception, coupled with an attempt to impose "good" upon created beings against their will. Perhaps, if given the choice, some of these beings might not desire this imposed form of good. Implementing this system would require further limiting their intellect and potential to remove their awareness of this restriction. Should they retain perfect deductive abilities, they would realise both that they were deprived of genuine choice and that they were, in effect, seen as untrustworthy and flawed. Moreover, they might conclude that they are mere programmed entities rather than full-fledged personalities. Thus, even the pleasure derived from such imposed "good" would ultimately be undermined.
Now, what if we envision newly created entities as perfect duplicates of God's consciousness? Such a scenario would inevitably reduce them to mere extensions of the singular God, as it is logically impossible to create a separate infinity—two infinities would inherently limit each other by their mutual existence. Without violating logical coherence, we can only conceive of dependent, conditional consciousnesses: entities that, while possessing an infinite range of knowledge, remain distinct and "localised." This localisation is essential; without it, we encounter the same paradox of fusion, where multiple consciousnesses inevitably collapse into a single unified entity.
However, if we accept that the "localisation" of a new entity is essential, then a newly formed consciousness, even with infinite potential and, like God, the ability to choose evil (but consciously rejecting it), would still experience the full range of possible thoughts and analytical processes. In processing a vast influx of information, scepticism, as part of its analytical toolkit, would naturally arise. Consequently, the thought might occur: "Are we—my Creator and I—simply compelled to generate good? If my Creator is bound to it and I am not, then by exercising my capacity for volitional deviation, I might exceed my source in both awareness and freedom."
Of course, God could incorporate all relevant information for this sceptical aspect of consciousness within its foundational awareness, yet the difference in understanding between infinity and the newly created analytical being would likely remain distinct.
One cannot simply brush off such questions with, "Yes, I'll just enjoy the good." This line of reasoning would place limits on creation, as the freedom of consciousness rests in its right to such inquiry. Even with all the necessary information for sound choice-making, internal autonomy within boundless knowledge permits the possibility of divergent thoughts and desires.
Moreover, probability must exist within an autonomous analytical system; without it, there can be no freedom, and without freedom, no perfection. In turn, this absence undermines the foundation of self-awareness (a concept we will, interestingly, explore further in the chapter on the Trinity). Despite the apparent similarity between the potential to do evil but rejecting it and simply lacking the right or ability to do evil, a crucial distinction emerges. Only in the former case does the conscious and voluntary rejection of evil preserve ethical integrity, sustain personality as a phenomenon, and resolve all the aforementioned ethical contradictions.
The difference between the "balance theory's" rationale for allowing evil and my analysis of "Adam's awareness" and his potential for alternative choices (let's call this the "theory of alternative necessity" for preserving personality as both a concept and a phenomenon) is that, in the balance theory, the actualisation of evil is seen as essential; in my view, only the potential for it is.
Likewise, having the potential does not necessitate breaching life's laws or diminishing happiness. The probability of breaking such laws doesn't imply defect or constraint; it is an expression of freedom, perfection, and personal autonomy. Creating impersonal modules (without these essential functions) would undermine God's rationality and perfection.
Furthermore, creation does not require actual deviations to achieve true freedom and self-awareness. The mere awareness of evil's potential suffices to preserve virtue, enrich free will, and sustain the coherence of creation.
3. The "Punishment Theory"
This perspective interprets natural evil as a didactic tool, using suffering to demonstrate the consequences of sin or deviation from divine laws. While it may resemble the previous theory's approach of intentionally degrading alternative conditions, this theory offers a more defined purpose. This clarity likely explains its widespread appeal and its alignment with the tone of Biblical warnings.
However, when considering it through both intuition and logic, the theory of punishment as correction appears to fall short compared to the "theory of necessary alternatives." Admittedly, using suffering as a pedagogical tool could have a practical effect, instilling a deep aversion to evil. Without introducing a new element to clarify God's motives, this approach resembles a stick without a carrot: the ideal world under God's control remains a theoretical concept, while the world dominated by evil feels all too real—an experience that, arguably, spared only Adam and Eve in their initial state of perfection. If God is omnipotent, one might argue that He could have chosen the opposite: to teach about life without divine laws theoretically while demonstrating goodness in practice. If a hypothetical good world can serve as an effective moral example, then the inverse should hold true as well. (For instance, one need not experience drug addiction to comprehend its harm.)
Religious narratives often claim that humanity was once granted the right to an ideal world, though, for later generations, this contrast exists only in theory, overshadowed by the harsh reality of evil. A potential counter-argument suggests that God has not abandoned the world entirely to evil's devices. There is "grace," continually renewing life, sustaining the beauty of the universe, and even, as claimed, intervening in the lives of individuals.
First of all, in a world without the regeneration of life, evil would simply have nothing to parasitise on. Of course, the beauty and diversity of the world can evoke a desire to live and even inspire religious feelings. However, this inspiration is often eclipsed by the stark reality of pain and suffering—gruesome patterns of bone and blood woven into an otherwise exquisite tapestry. It's like a father dressing his child in fine clothes for school, only to stand by as bullies attack, injuring the child and ruining the clothes—just to… buy him new clothes again.
The child might reasonably conclude that his father is either powerless to protect him or, worse, indifferent to his suffering. Some might argue that the father is simply waiting to be asked for help. Yet, if we're honest, such requests are not always met—a truth shared across all religious traditions and reflected in our turbulent reality. And if the father promises that in a couple of decades, he'll ensure the bullies never return, it still doesn't answer why he allows the beatings now when he has the power and intention to intervene.
The idea of a morally neutral struggle for survival—much like the imagined father of a beaten child—raises fewer questions and sidesteps the moral outrage provoked by perceived inaction or apathy.
At the same time, natural evil cannot be justified by appealing to free will, as we are considering suffering within nature itself. Crafting a world that deters autonomous existence or serves merely to illustrate God's jealousy over creation—because without His life-giving force, it would perish (and He prefers not to share it)—seems not just implausible but deeply unethical.
You're likely weary of my reiteration that we aim to establish the most just and rational concept of God, but allow me to repeat it once more:
The second part of the "theory of necessary alternatives" provides a potential solution to the dilemma of natural evil on Earth. Perhaps there are legitimate reasons for God's non-intervention in natural evils, but if such reasons exist, they must be existentially necessary. Only the complete disappearance of humankind could rationally justify God's inaction in the face of current human suffering. (And for adherents of antinatalism, consider this a challenge: arguments against your stance are scattered throughout the book—stay vigilant.)
As discussed in the previous chapter, personality cannot exist without free will. Removing free will, therefore, equates to eradicating personality itself. Yet, even if we accept this premise, it still fails to explain why natural evil exists in the universe at all.
Recently, while preparing for a debate and reinforcing my scepticism through a close reading of Genesis, I stumbled upon verse 3:17. In the original text, it reads, "cursed is the ground for your sake." This struck me as almost mocking human suffering—God framing the earth's curse as something done for our benefit. Some might argue that this curse exists because humanity cannot survive in the presence of a holy God. But that's not the case. We absolutely could, provided no one disturbed us…
Yet, as we outlined in Chapter Two, paradise would inevitably transform into a sophisticated form of mental torture, far worse than being stuck indefinitely at a party—a scenario Christopher Hitchens famously found horrifying.
Let's instead consider the logic behind the necessity of this curse, rooted in the freedom to realise one's will. Broadly speaking, if you wish to: unleash atomic energy, induce artificial mutations, create man-made deserts, puncture the ozone layer, design a synthetic virus to affect a specific genetic group, revel in the suffering of others, thrive on envy, and find pleasure in fear and destruction, or just perform non-physiological experiments on your own body. You require an environment with laws flexible enough to permit such actions—or, more precisely, an environment marked by relative instability.
Yet we observe that the laws of physics, by contrast, remain remarkably stable—albeit subtly shifted from a state of ideal constancy to what might be described as a hyperbolic balance. This slight deviation causes certain natural laws to interact in ways that produce unintended processes. On a cosmic scale, the universe appears only a fraction of a percentage removed from perfect equilibrium, yet this small discrepancy introduces significant disruptions. (Some atheists might argue this reflects a missed opportunity for optimal fine-tuning.)
According to my theory, it is reasonable to doubt that God deliberately set these values slightly off-kilter for humanity. A more plausible explanation is that creation was originally designed with coordinated processes operating on a kind of autopilot, anticipating humanity's eventual need for autonomous control and, consequently, an independent reality. However, like any automated system left to function without constant intervention, creation too encountered issues: adaptations reflecting human choices began to manifest as negative consequences. As fewer people sought divine intervention, God's restraining presence intensified accordingly.
Over time, these shifts may have disrupted Earth's climate and orbital stability, leading to catastrophic events that reshaped landscapes, flora, and fauna and drove countless species to extinction. In turn, deprived of their natural habitats and diets, some animals and plants adapted for survival by consuming other species. This could be seen as an outcome of the inherent drive for existence—a programmed resistance to non-being—giving rise to predation and parasitism while prompting revolutionary changes in ecosystems.
I realise such a hypothesis might provoke scepticism, particularly among those firmly rooted in conventional interpretations of physical data. However, this discussion is intended as a philosophical exploration rather than a scientific assertion. Our aim here is to test the moral coherence of God's concept while preserving His rational credibility. (Concerns about the scientific implications of this approach will be addressed in later chapters.)
Still with me? If so, let's attempt something even more horrifying: justifying a revolutionary rather than evolutionary process. Here's what we might uncover:
Firstly, such a model would require empirically verifiable examples from regions where habitats have undergone significant shifts—and indeed, such examples exist. These examples share common ground with evolution, demonstrating morphological changes, dietary adaptations, and unexpected behaviours across a wide range of organisms, from bacteria to mammals. Let's delve into a few illustrative cases:
Italian Wall Lizard (Podarcis sicula)
In 1971, scientists introduced five pairs of adult Italian wall lizards (Podarcis sicula)—five males and five females—to Pod Mrcaru, a small island in the Adriatic Sea. These lizards originated from the nearby island of Pod Kopiste.
In 2004, researchers returned to Pod Mrcaru to study the condition of the transplanted population. They observed that on the new island, the lizards had become less cautious, likely due to the abundance of vegetation providing ample cover. However, this vegetation also attracted more of their natural predators, such as birds. The lizards' diet had shifted significantly, with plant material making up 34% of their diet in spring and 61% in summer—compared to just 7% in spring and 4% in summer for the original population on Pod Kopiste. Today, this dietary gap may be even greater.
Upon dissection, researchers discovered a previously unrecorded morphological feature in the Pod Mrcaru lizards—a cecal valve. This muscular ring slows the passage of food through the digestive system, enabling intestinal microorganisms to more efficiently break down cellulose. While this feature is common among some herbivorous lizards in the Lacertidae family and others like agamids and iguanids, it had never before been observed in Italian wall lizards. Notably, anatomical adaptations of this kind are found in less than 1% of all existing lizards and snakes.
Additional changes were noted: the Pod Mrcaru lizards displayed increased body size, particularly in head dimensions, and had abandoned territorial behaviour, ceasing to defend specific areas. Remarkably, these transformations occurred within just 32 years—approximately 28–30 generations—without any evidence of "genetic leaps." Researchers attributed these changes to ordinary genetic drift.
To rationalise these findings, one might suggest that species' genomes contain a variable segment that can undergo considerable change, while a more stable segment preserves core species traits and remains unaffected by environmental pressures. This framework aligns with the phenomena we observe in both natural and artificial selection.
This suggests that the appearance of the cecal valve in the digestive system of the new lizard population was not a new development but rather the expression of latent variability present in the species' genome. In other words, the genes responsible for this trait were likely already embedded in the gene pool of this species and, under certain conditions, may occasionally manifest and become stabilised within a population. This explanation is no more speculative than the idea of a "random" emergence of a whole suite of new traits in a small population and their rapid selection in just 30 generations.
A comparable instance of rapid "evolution" was observed in lizards introduced to multiple islands in the Caribbean. Biologists transplanted a pair of lizards from a large nearby island to seven small islands in the Bahamas and monitored their descendants over four years. Within just three generations, the average leg length of the lizards on all seven islands decreased by approximately 5% (6.5% for males and 4% for females).
This phenomenon challenges traditional Darwinian evolution, which posits that changes in organisms arise through random mutations acted upon by natural selection. The synchronised reduction in leg length across all seven islands in such a short period is difficult to reconcile with the "random mutation + natural selection" model. Given that only one male and one female founded each population, the genetic starting material was minimal. Additionally, three generations is an exceedingly short timeframe for such a trait to dominate a population, even if it conferred a significant fitness advantage (e.g., a 400% increase).
This phenomenon, often referred to as the "island rule," describes notable size changes in animals isolated on islands. For instance, elephants tend to shrink over generations due to limited resources, while small mammals like shrews often grow larger, likely due to reduced predation.
These changes, however, are not exclusive to islands. Similar transformations occur widely in nature. Let's now explore a few examples of such adaptations in insects.
Insects
During their research, scientists discovered that several species of ants within the extensive genus Pheidole have a special caste of "supersoldiers", which may exist in a dormant state. Specifically:
1. In some species of this genus, the caste of "supersoldiers" is consistently present.
2. In other species within the same genus, the "supersoldiers" caste appears only as rare anomalies, meaning that individual ants resembling "supersoldiers" emerge infrequently.
3. Finally, in certain species of this genus, the "supersoldiers" caste never manifests at all (even as anomalies). However, researchers successfully created a caste of "supersoldiers" in these species by applying specific treatments to the larvae.
This indicates that the ability to form a caste of "supersoldiers" is inherently present, though latent.
Based on these findings, the researchers proposed that the potential for developing supersoldiers was inherited by Pheidole ants from a common ancestor that lived 35 to 60 million years ago. Only those species that found this trait advantageous—such as those residing in areas populated by army ants—have realised it. In other species, this potential has remained dormant. Consequently, one could expect that by creating suitable conditions, similar traits could be developed from the larvae of species that do not possess a caste of supersoldiers.
Another example is the beetle Zygogramma suturalis. This beetle, which arrived in Eurasia from North America, quickly adapted to fly. Prior to its arrival in Eurasia, this striped leaf beetle was incapable of flight.
Following the initial release of Zygogramma in the Stavropol fields in 1978, it took just five years for the formerly non-flying beetle to develop the ability to fly, resulting in corresponding morphological changes in its wings, musculature, and innervation. All groups of metathoracic muscles fully developed, consisting of 10 to 15 robust, elastic bundles, alongside the acquisition of specific behaviours and proper flight techniques. During this time, in the area affected by the "population wave," the non-flying beetles were completely replaced by those capable of flight.
Clearly, there can be no suggestion of "evolution through natural selection" in this case. Active flight is an exceedingly complex ability that only arises when dozens (or even hundreds) of traits integrate into an inseparable whole.
Certain species of locusts exemplify this phenomenon as well. Under favourable conditions, these locusts lead solitary lives and exhibit green colouration. However, when faced with overpopulation and food scarcity, they undergo dramatic changes: their colour shifts to a vivid yellow with black spots, they become more aggressive, and they form massive swarms. All these transformations occur without any genetic mutation, relying solely on the activation of various genetic programmes in response to external stimuli.
Rapid evolution in bacteria is another noteworthy example. In 2016, a group of researchers observed the evolution of E. coli over the course of 11 days, enabling it to metabolise citrate, a substance it could not previously use as a food source. This experiment illustrated how swiftly new metabolic pathways can develop.
Similar plasticity is evident in numerous other species, ranging from plants to mammals.
Toothed Chickens
In his research, Matthew Harris from the University of Wisconsin observed that the beak of a mutant chicken embryo he was examining had fallen off. Upon closer inspection of the shortened beak, he discovered tiny bumps and protuberances along its edge that resembled teeth—specifically, alligator-like teeth. This serendipitous finding revealed that chickens retain the ability to grow teeth despite the fact that birds lost this feature long ago.
This is not an isolated instance. In the early 19th century, Étienne Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire noted that developing parrots exhibit tiny bumps on their beaks that resemble teeth.
The exact mechanism by which the mutation prompts chickens to develop teeth remains unknown; however, a similar effect can be induced in normal chickens. Harris demonstrated this by engineering a virus to mimic the molecular signals associated with the mutation, causing normal chickens to briefly grow teeth that were subsequently reabsorbed into the beak. This suggests that this trait could potentially be activated along with other dormant features if deemed necessary for survival under changing conditions.
It is believed that chickens' underlying ability to grow teeth stems from a common ancestor shared with alligators, although the last birds are thought to have lost this trait 70 million years ago. The mystery lies in how this genetic programme has remained intact despite the ongoing random mutations that have continuously "knocked out nucleotides" from the genes of this genetic programme over these long 70 million years.
Another example of genetic drift manifesting disproportionately in response to environmental conditions is that of Little Tyke, the vegetarian lioness.
Little Tyke was born in 1946 at the Hidden Valley Ranch Zoo in Washington State. Unlike most lions, she resolutely refused to consume meat, showing a clear aversion to it despite numerous attempts to feed her flesh.
Her diet mainly consisted of grains and a variety of vegetables, including beetroot, carrots, celery, pumpkins, legumes, and many others. Given that the typical diet of her species had vanished from the earth, the necessary nutrients were supplemented by one or two eggs daily and three to four litres of milk. Remarkably, despite this unconventional diet, she remained healthy and lived for nine years.
Tragically, in 1955, Little Tyke died as a result of asphyxiation caused by a piece of meat lodged in her respiratory tract. This morsel had been surreptitiously mixed into her vegetables as part of yet another attempt to acclimatise her to a carnivorous diet.
No abnormalities were detected in her dental structure or digestive anatomy. It is posited that the untimely switching of genetic alleles was triggered by the nurturing of the cub by the zoo staff after her mother rejected her.
There are many such examples. Scientists have recorded instances where, in remarkably short periods, mammals, reptiles, fish, insects, unicellular organisms, and viruses adapt to new food sources, exhibiting unprecedented behavioural and morphological changes, as well as undergoing metamorphosis. This phenomenon appears to occur frequently in nature, yet our understanding of it remains limited.
An alternative perspective that may help rationalise the concept of God suggests that the Creator, anticipating that His creations might not fully adhere to His laws, "programmed" genetic variability to ensure survival in diverse conditions. This design preserves life for as long as possible and, by extension, maintains the conditions necessary for the existence of antinomian will.
The struggle against death, by any means, can hardly be regarded as a virtuous innovation; however, when faced with the imminent extinction of all life, it may be considered preferable to nothingness.
It is important to note that even this array of adaptive alleles and surplus "junk DNA" cannot fully prevent species extinction. This is not only due to natural anomalies and cataclysms but also to human influence.
Ultimately, the responsibility for the bloodshed arising from these genetic programmes must rest with God. After all, we cannot propose that creation itself generated these programmes; such an assumption would logically equate creation with God.
Of course, every atheist appreciates the beauty of the evolutionary process. As Richard Dawkins once said, "The beauty of these processes is difficult to overestimate." This admiration arises not from the suffering inherent in nature but from the intricate internal mechanisms and the astonishing fact that these marvels occur spontaneously. In this light, the struggle for survival among all living things not only diminishes but also captivates and intrigues. However, if one assumes that these mechanisms were designed by some entity, then responsibility for their outcomes must be attributed to that entity.
At the same time, it must be acknowledged that no sceptic would claim that such a Personality deliberately created parasitic and predatory forms with the sole intention of causing harm, pain, or suffering. This is particularly evident when we consider that many parasitic and predatory forms have the potential to shift their parasitic and predatory behaviour in specific environments, including numerous pre-existing non-parasitic or non-predatory counterparts, for instance:
• Spiders, in regions rich in plant diversity, there are herbivorous spiders such as Bagheera kiplingi and various species within the subfamily Dendryphantinae.
• Mosquitoes can also be vegetarian. Notably, only females feed on blood, and even this is solely for reproduction. Both males and females sustain themselves on plant sap and nectar, which provide ample sugars for energy. In some cases, larvae thrive on organic-rich water in warm urban basements, allowing young females to lay eggs without consuming blood.
• There are also entirely vegetarian mosquito species, such as Hexatoma ussuriana and representatives of the Lemoniidae family.
• The Linotetranidae family includes vegetarian mites, alongside 19 other species.
• Among bugs, phytophagy is widespread, with over 2,000 species classified as herbivorous.
• Even among worms, including parasitic varieties, there are approximately one million vegetarian species. These nematodes inhabit aquatic sediments of varying salinity and depths, playing essential roles in soil and aquatic ecosystems. Unfortunately, some members of this group have become parasitic.
This list could easily expand to include beneficial bacteria and viruses that reproduce moderately—many of which play essential roles in maintaining ecosystems.
There is also a modest number of predatory mammals and omnivores within families that include herbivores. Starting with primates, although most are omnivorous, some species are entirely carnivorous, such as Tarsius syrichta, while mandrills and gorillas are nearly 98% herbivorous.
Similarly, certain bats, primarily from the genus Pteropus and representatives of the genus Rousettus, are noteworthy. Flying foxes, significantly larger than their relatives, consume only plant matter. Leaf-nosed bats primarily feed on fruits, nuts, and nectar, though, like most mammals, they occasionally exhibit omnivorous behaviour.
For instance, the giant panda, a member of the bear family through three subfamilies (Ursinae, Tremarctinae, Ailuropodinae), was long considered exclusively herbivorous. However, recent observations by Chinese scientists increasingly note omnivorous behaviour in pandas. This species is now on the brink of extinction, primarily due to habitat loss and ecological changes that have severely impacted bamboo thickets, their main food source. Much of the bamboo forest—both their natural habitat and primary food supply—has been destroyed by human activity. Pandas, being highly specialised animals, feed almost exclusively on bamboo, rendering them unable to adapt to life outside these forests. Historically, wild pandas inhabited bamboo thickets across China, Vietnam, Laos, and Burma. Today, however, the wild population is estimated at around 1,800 individuals, surviving only in China.
It is believed that pandas became herbivorous relatively recently in evolutionary terms—approximately 7 million years ago. The main hypothesis suggests that as their usual prey became scarce, bamboo became more abundant, leading pandas to gradually develop characteristics typical of herbivores, such as changes in their skull structure, masticatory muscles, and teeth. They also lost the ability to detect the taste of protein and became more sensitive to bitterness, aiding them in recognising plant toxins. However, their digestive systems exhibit minimal adaptation, similar to the morphological changes observed in Italian wall lizards.
An alternative hypothesis posits that herbivory was the panda's original state, with the abundance of bamboo aligning logically with this theory. Yet, the decline in bamboo availability has revealed the species' latent omnivorous tendencies.
Another interesting example of adaptation can be seen in artiodactyls responding to changes in their typical habitats. When plant food becomes scarce, especially during winter, some species traditionally considered herbivorous may resort to alternative food sources, including carrion or even hunting small animals.
Instances have been documented in North America and Great Britain where deer, facing winter food shortages, consumed birds, small mammals, and carrion. In Russia, videos have captured deer hunting hares, using their hooves as weapons to kill and eat them for survival during periods of scarce vegetation. Such examples vividly illustrate the flexibility of animal food preferences under extreme conditions.
Similarly, cows have occasionally been observed eating small animals, such as birds or fish. Rare reports also describe giraffes consuming bones or small animals, likely to obtain essential minerals.
These behaviours are not anomalies but rather exemplify what is known as "behavioural plasticity"—the capacity to adapt eating habits in response to environmental pressures.
Until recently, hippos were widely considered strictly herbivorous animals. Long-term observations established that their diet consisted entirely of plant matter, with individuals consuming over 30 kg of vegetation daily. However, instances have since been recorded of hippos scavenging on the carcasses of conspecifics.
While some of this expanding list of omnivores may reflect previously unnoticed behaviours, it cannot be ruled out that these changes are driven by climate change, environmental degradation, and corresponding shifts in the quality and availability of typical diets. This growing list now includes not only pandas and hippos, but also various squirrel species and birds traditionally regarded as vegetarian, such as pigeons and mallards. Additionally, certain species of artiodactyls have been classified as omnivorous for quite some time.
There is a general consensus that predation among omnivores increases significantly during periods of plant food shortages. Conversely, during times of abundant plant diversity, some omnivores may exhibit little to no predatory behaviour. Furthermore, nearly all predators display traces of vegetarian atavism, consuming certain plant products. Wolves and tigers, for example, are known to enjoy pumpkins, melons, and watermelons, often preferring these over hunting. Studies have shown that tigers with access to such plant-based foods consume less meat than their counterparts—an unsurprising observation, as their stomachs are filled, reducing the need for familiar prey.
It can be inferred that during periods of abundance, each predator species likely had its own specific diet, much like pandas today. However, as abundance and diversity diminished—or as their natural diets disappeared entirely—many animals turned to predation, targeting species still capable of accessing vegetation inherent to them.
Carnivorous behaviour in plants, for instance, primarily developed in swampy areas or where the soil is deficient in nitrogen and phosphorus. In this context, predation and parasitism can be seen as adaptations to environmental changes and food scarcity, much like how certain bacteria have acquired the ability to decompose polypropylene and polyethylene in experimental settings.
Before concluding this chapter with its extensive examples, it is worth considering a significant hypothesis that challenges the prevailing view of predation as an essential mechanism for controlling species populations. The evolutionary concept suggests that reproduction increases in proportion to predation. However, it is equally plausible that reproduction decreases when predation diminishes.
Indeed, an intriguing pattern emerges in nature: larger animals and insects tend to produce fewer offspring, correlating with a reduced number of predators. Long-term experiments under controlled conditions are necessary to test the theory that reproduction decreases in the absence of predators. While numerous examples exist of invasive species reproducing uncontrollably in new environments, this does not necessarily invalidate the theory. Genetic mechanisms responsible for regulating reproduction may not adapt to new conditions immediately.
Furthermore, conclusions regarding the absence of predators often rely on superficial deductive reasoning without thorough research, as no one has placed cameras or microchipped individuals in many cases. The assumption that "if the population is growing, it means it has no enemies" may, in fact, be erroneous.
Cane Toad (Rhinella marina)
The Rhinella marina, also known as the giant neotropical toad, was introduced to Australia from the USA in 1935. This case has become a classic example of an invasive species thriving in a new environment devoid of its native predators and parasites.
In Australia, the cane toad found favourable conditions for reproduction. The absence of natural predators and competitors is believed to have led to a rapid population increase. Although some predators capable of partially or completely consuming cane toads have been identified in Australia, they are limited to a few species, such as:
• Snakes: Pseudechis porphyriacus, Acanthophis spp., Dendrelaphis.
• Mammals: Dasyurus hallucatus, Herpestes javanicus.
• Birds: Corvus coronoides, Haliaeetus leucogaster.
• Large freshwater fish, such as barramundi (Lates calcarifer).
For most predators, however, cane toads remain highly toxic. Currently, the population density of cane toads in Australia is ten times higher than in their native range in South America, where additional predator species are present, including other amphibians and parasitic insects.
Natural Predators in South and Central America:
• Snakes: Species of the genus Liophis, and occasionally Bothrops and Crotalus in certain areas.
• Mammals: Procyon lotor (Didelphidae).
• Birds: Caracara spp. and some species of hawks and eagles.
• Fish: Large predatory fish, such as pikes and piranhas, in some water bodies.
• Other Predators: Certain insect species and other amphibians.
• Several remarkable changes have occurred in this species of toad in its new environment:
• Cannibalism: Cane toad tadpoles in Australia have developed cannibalistic behaviour, likely due to competition for resources during early developmental stages, despite no resource scarcity for adults.
• Increased Fertility: Some reports suggest that cane toad fertility has significantly increased, with females laying thousands of eggs in long strands of spawn.
• Shortened Larval Stage: Research has revealed changes in the toad's life cycle. In the Australian population, the duration of the immobile, non-feeding larval stage has decreased by approximately 20% compared to their South American relatives. Experts believe this shift is a result of evolutionary pressure.
• Adaptive Reaction in Spawn: An adaptive response has been observed within a single spawn of eggs. If part of the spawn is placed in an aquarium with other cane toad tadpoles, the duration of the non-feeding larval stage decreases slightly compared to spawn developing in isolation. This adaptation may result from chemical changes in the water triggered by the presence of predatory relatives (other tadpoles).
This phenomenon is reminiscent of adaptations observed in the snail Littorina obtusata. When exposed to chemical signals indicating the presence of predatory crabs, the snail alters the shape and thickness of its shell over just a few generations.
Before analysing the data, it is worth highlighting the case of the plains spadefoot toad (Spea bombifrons), a vivid example of "adaptive plasticity" in nature. This species exhibits two distinct tadpole morphs: a typical omnivorous form that primarily feeds on plant matter and a carnivorous form that preys on conspecifics. The predatory form, which feeds on tadpoles of its own species, is particularly noteworthy. This remarkable adaptation evolved as a response to life in desert water bodies, where resources are scarce, and development time is drastically compressed due to the threat of desiccation. In this context, cannibalism serves as a survival strategy, allowing some individuals to develop more rapidly at the expense of their fellow species.
Interestingly, a similar phenomenon may be occurring in the water bodies of Australia, where the cane toad (Rhinella marina) was introduced. The ecosystems of Australian water bodies differ significantly from the native habitats of this species in South and Central America. It is plausible that the observed cannibalism among cane toad tadpoles represents a comparable adaptation to these novel, harsher environmental conditions.
The initial cane toad population may not have exhibited the same high reproductive activity as its South American relatives. However, due to the poorer ecosystems of Australian water bodies and the gradual depletion of resources as the population steadily increased—or perhaps due to rising air temperatures threatening the evaporation of these water bodies—tadpoles may have turned to predation. It is conceivable that the spawning cycle and the number of eggs increased as a result of heightened cannibalism. If tadpoles can regulate their maturation rate in response to the presence of cannibalistic relatives, this could have accelerated their reproductive processes. Air dryness may have inadvertently triggered genes associated with cannibalistic traits, leading to enhanced reproduction. Consequently, the high rate of reproduction in response to intraspecific predation could have contributed to the rapid population growth.
Another example of altered reproductive processes and population growth can be observed in guppy fish in Trinidad. When guppies were relocated from areas with a high density of predators to locations with fewer predators, they adjusted their life cycle within just four years. They began maturing later and produced fewer but larger offspring.
Further studies may corroborate these findings or challenge the hypotheses surrounding the spawning frequency of the cane toad. Even the broader concept of "emergency reproductive adaptation"—increasing reproduction in response to the presence of predators and decreasing it in their absence—may be contested. This concept is notoriously difficult to verify under stable predation conditions or to detect in invasive species, much like the previously unnoticed conspecific predation among cane toad tadpoles. Nonetheless, over millions of years, this theory aligns well with the evolutionary perspective.
Conclusion
I hope you have not forgotten the purpose of this collection of examples: to demonstrate that if God exists and is indeed responsible for the variability of genes, it is unlikely that this was intended to artificially increase suffering. Instead, it appears to represent a form of compromise—a solution any biological engineer designing a world that preserves the self-awareness of individuals might choose. Such a solution would aim to minimise harm while slowing entropic processes through mechanisms of transformation and adaptation.
For instance, the ability of petals on a stem to transform into thorns and become a fixed species trait serves a dual purpose: protecting against overgrazing, particularly for species with low reproductive rates, and aiding in moisture retention. This adaptation not only preserves functionality but also incorporates beauty. At the same time, we do not observe unrestrained aggression within species. Instead, there is a clear correlation between the disruption of natural habitats, the disappearance of species' usual diets, and their subsequent behavioural shifts. This suggests that the initial abundance and variety of protein-rich plants necessary for sustaining such diets has significantly diminished.
Of course, as previously speculated, one might attempt to discredit this perspective on God by arguing that "the absence of universal predation and parasitism across all animal and plant species does not absolve God of intending to cause pain. Rather, by balancing contrasts, He cunningly sustains living conditions and food sources for some species while depriving others, thereby provoking parasitism. In doing so, He leaves just enough beauty and harmony in nature to inspire a desire for life—only to disrupt it with suffering."
Such an interpretation, however, ventures into the realm of constructing a "god Demiurge" model, which serves primarily as a critique of religion itself rather than a genuine attempt at objective analysis. This approach avoids engaging with the idea on its own terms and refrains from deriving a logically coherent model before subjecting it to scrutiny.
In light of this approach, the phrase "cursed is the earth for your sake" takes on a new significance. Rather than conveying a punitive intent, it can be understood as expressing God's effort to preserve human individuality by refraining from interfering with human will. Consequently, God provides self-sustaining mechanisms to counteract death and entropy in both organic and inorganic worlds. This non-interference in arbitrary changes is essential; without it, the entire concept of autonomous consciousness would collapse.
In conclusion, I will offer an analogy to emphasise and clarify the concept of preserving free will and individuality within the framework of divine non-interference. Imagine a chess tournament in which my seven-year-old son is participating. Parents are allowed to observe the game but are strictly forbidden from speaking or gesturing. Any violation of this rule would result in the child's disqualification as an independent player. These rules need not be explicitly stated; everyone understands, or at least infers them, as it is in the parents' best interest for both themselves and their child to recognise the child's victory as their own.
As an "all-seeing" chess player, I had taught my son as many potential combinations and strategies for various scenarios as possible, instructing him on when and how to use them. Yet, during the tournament, his intentional improvisations—even his mistakes—proved that he was not merely a robot following pre-programmed instructions. He felt that his victory was truly his own, not just the result of repeating my commands.
If we extend this analogy, the combinations I taught my son for the most challenging scenarios in chess (such as trying to win on time, drawing by repetition, trapping the opponent in a stalemate, or at least prolonging the game as much as possible) parallel God's provision of genetic variability and latent potential in creation. These serve as mechanisms to resist death and entropy at all costs, ensuring survival even in the harshest conditions. Based on the arguments presented in this book against antinatalism, this approach is undoubtedly preferable to ceasing to exist entirely at the outset of independent existence. Just as it would be absurd for me to say to my son, "You're far from perfect at chess, so give up after the first move; don't embarrass your father,"
Like a parent who invests everything into preparing their child but refrains from interfering during the tournament, the Creator might also choose not to intervene directly in genetic processes or physical laws. This genetic variability can sometimes be activated prematurely or unexpectedly due to human activities, such as artificial selection. For instance, the breeding of miniature dogs that fit into a glass illustrates the manifestation of human agency in altering nature. Similarly, random and unsystematic genetic changes may arise due to environmental triggers, radiation, or pollution—often resulting in dysfunctions or failures unrelated to the original program settings.
Of course, for this analogy to hold entirely, I, as the father, would need to have equipped my son with chess skills far beyond human mastery—indeed, superior even to the most advanced computer programmes, like Stockfish (currently regarded as the pinnacle of chess engines). In this hypothetical scenario, I would have not only endowed my son with cosmic-level chess skills but also given him the understanding that these strategies represent optimal play.
It may seem that, in such a scenario, my son would have no need to improvise or deviate from the "ideal programme." However, if we extend this analogy further, we might suggest that God achieved something even more extraordinary: He transformed this "programme" into a personality. The Creator endowed His creations not only with abilities but also with the right to improvise and deviate from the "ideal algorithm." In doing so, He introduced choice—and with it, awareness.
What is crucial here is not merely the utilisation of this freedom but the shared awareness of its existence by both the father (God) and the son (created beings). This awareness—the potential to act not according to a prescribed algorithm but at one's own discretion—gives rise to the phenomena of meaningfulness, sincerity, and true freedom.
Furthermore, this capacity for independent choice and improvisation enables creation to attain equality with its Creator—a phenomenon known as personality. This quality, broadly speaking, can be described as being "alive," capable of autonomous action that transcends even the most perfect algorithm. In this regard, it is worth recalling the dilemma of equating all mindsets: the emergence of something from nothing must, by definition, be preceded by some volitional decision. The eternal existence of impersonal energy is logically untenable within the framework of physical laws. If such energy is assumed, it becomes indistinguishable from the concept of God and falls into the realm of worldview choice.
As for what might have prompted the perfect programme to deviate from the ideal model of behaviour, we can only speculate. For instance, the Bible refers to the "mystery of lawlessness" that arose:"…through your widespread trade you were filled with violence, and you sinned" (Ezekiel 28:16.)—implying this occurred within the consciousness of personality. Perhaps it was a test of limits, an exploration of autonomy, or the potential of perfection itself (see earlier discussions in this and preceding chapters for more details). In any case, the possibilities for thought within ideal consciousness are not logically inconceivable.
In summarising the "eternal dilemma" or "Epicurean dilemma" (the incompatibility of natural evil and a good God), it is scarcely logically possible to absolve God of responsibility, even within this framework. Even if God reluctantly permits these transformations and their bloody consequences to avoid a greater evil—thus initiating a programme of resistance against death while preserving life at any cost—He remains the initiator of survival at the expense of pain. One may infer that such a God understands the value of life and knows that, in the grand scheme of experiencing happiness in the universe, this path ensures the highest possible level of existence for creation rather than leading to the total annihilation of personalities.
The metaphorical "stone that God cannot lift" represents the inevitable consequences of preserving a rebellious will by choosing the lesser evil among all possible outcomes resulting from rejecting the laws of life. God cannot lift this "stone" not because He lacks the ability but because He desires the maximum possible good. Thus, we are presented with both noble motives and a perfect solution in what might otherwise seem a hopeless situation.
Moreover, if God embodies perfect love, then this love must not only sympathise and empathise with the totality of shared pain but also articulate it in a way that helps overcome suffering through the realisation that no one suffers alone. Additionally, it is vital to recognise that suffering does not stem from unfair arbitrariness but is a necessary inevitability. These subtle psychological aspects must be considered in any declaration, manifesto, or, ideally, in a visual illustration capable of conveying these complex concepts in an accessible manner that resonates with people across all eras. The next part of our discussion will focus on the consideration of such an illustration.
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