f an archaeologist wishes to determine whether an unknown object is a primitive ax or merely a rock, he does not do so by “determining whether the object can serve a purpose; he looks instead for those peculiar marks left by flaking tools and not produced by weathering.” In other words, in order to conclude that an object was designed, we must first establish that it was manufactured. Therefore, in order to conclude that the natural universe was designed, we must first establish that it was manufactured by an intelligent being. It is here that the defender of the design argument faces his most serious problem. How can he demonstrate that the natural universe was in some way manufactured by an intelligent being? Only one way is open to the theist: he must first demonstrate the existence of an intelligent designer, and then—and only then—he can assert that the universe is the product of design. In other words, one must first know that a god exists before one can say that nature exhibits design. And this renders the design argument useless for proving the existence of a god.
The theist will undoubtedly object to his last claim.After all, he may argue, there are many cases where we can have knowledge of design without having prior knowledge of a designer. For instance, suppose that we discovered ancient ruins on another planet; this would convince us that intelligent life existed at one time on this planet. Here we begin with designed artifacts, the ancient ruins, and infer the previous existence of intelligent designers. It seems absurd, then, to claim that we cannot establish the presence of design in nature without prior knowledge of god’s existence.
This objection ignores an important difference between evidence of design on another planet and evidence of design in the universe as a whole. We would recognize ruins on another planet only insofar as those ruins resembled, at least to some extent, the methods of man. And our ability to recognize man-made characteristics depends on our ability to identify characteristics that are not found in nature. If, for example, a man was to design an object which looked like a natural rock in every respect, then, while this object would in fact be the product of design, another person could not tell this from merely examining the rock. As far as he is concerned, this rock is a product of nature. The closer the resemblance between a designed artifact and a natural object, the more difficult it is to determine that the artifact is in fact a product of design.
We see, therefore, that the characteristics of design stand in contradistinction to the characteristics of natural objects. Thus, if objects on another planet bear marks that are not usually found in nature, we might conclude that these objects were designed by an intelligent being.
Now consider the idea that nature itself is the product of design. How could this be demonstrated? Nature, as we have seen, provides the basis of comparison by which we distinguish between designed objects and natural objects. We are able to infer the presence of design only to the extent that the characteristics of an object differ from natural characteristics. Therefore, to claim that nature as a whole was designed is to destroy the basis by which we differentiate between artifacts and natural objects. Evidences of design are those characteristics not found in nature, so it is impossible to produce evidence of design within the context of nature itself. Only if we first step beyond nature, and establish the existence of a supernatural designer, can we conclude that nature is the result of conscious planning.
To repeat: unless the theist first proves the existence of a god, there is no way, in principle, by which he can demonstrate that the universe exhibits design. Knowledge of god must precede knowledge of natural design, so the design argument has no possibility of success. Appeals to complex and intricate structures, such as the eye, are of no help; the eye does not display characteristics that cannot be accounted for in natural terms, and the similarity between the eye and man-made artifacts is irrelevant. Natural and man-made objects also share the common trait of coloration, but this is no reason to suppose that there exists a master painter-dyer. Paley’s design argument must be rejected as a total failure.