Image by kenne
This morning I read an article by Jorge Guerra Pires on the question of whether the universe requires a supernatural designer often centers on the idea of “fine-tuning.” Proponents of the Strong Anthropic Principle (SAP) argue that the delicate balance of cosmological and physical constants provides “irrefutable proof of a creator God”. This argument posits that life-prohibiting universes are vastly more probable than ours, suggesting that our existence — which mathematician Roger Penrose calculated rests on odds of $1$ in $10^{10^{123}}$ possible states — is “wildly improbable” by chance.
Rather than responding directly on the fine-tuning argument, I decided to write a poem:
At the edge of the observable,
light runs out of breath.
Beyond it waits
either an architect
whose blueprints were constants,
or a vast ensemble
of unseen realms
rolling cosmic dice.
Both are grand.
Both are unprovable.
Yet here we are—
a thin film of consciousness
spread across a pale planet
that shouldn’t exist
and yet does.
The mystery is not which answer is correct.
The mystery is that
we were given the question.
— kenne
Nicely written, Kenne. Loved reading it!
I scribble about life and people, and occasionally attempt poetry. Do check out my blog and subscribe if you like it.
Hi Kenne, Excellent. Pat M.
Thank you, Pat.