DNA? There’s another hurdle for Darwinism—the genetic code. How do arm cells know they are arm cells, not nose cells? How do the cells of a fetal giraffe know to grow up as a giraffe, not a zebra? They require instructions.
Genes carry hereditary information. DNA is the substance of which genes are made. The genetic code is real code, found in DNA molecules, that tells the cells what to do. We may look on a cell as a little factory, proteins as machines in the factory, and the genetic code as instructions for assembly of the machines.
The code is an actual language that scientists have deciphered. It consists of substances called nucleotides, of which there are four: (A) adenine, (T) thymine, (G) guanine, and (C) cytosine. These function just like the alphabet. A gene consists of about 1,000 nucleotides, which normally appear in triplets, such as AGC or ATG. Most triplets specify amino acids but some indicate “stop,” just as a telegram will stay “stop” to end a sentence. All of the world’s organisms—animals, plants, and even viruses—depend on this code for existence.
So cells, like computers, are programmed for their functions. The genetic code is far more complex than the codes Microsoft engineers used to design Windows 95. Anyone believe Windows 95 could turn up without intelligence? How then, the genetic code? Of course, evolutionists have their stock answer: time and chance. In other words, if you had a deck of cards, each bearing a letter, and kept shuffling them, eventually you would get a meaningful sentence like “I LOVE YOU.”
But A.E. Wilder-Smith pointed out the fallacy of such reasoning. Suppose you handed your “I LOVE YOU” sentence to a man who spoke only German? To have meaning, a message must be received by someone who understands it.
Cells translate the genetic code’s instructions. Saying that chance produced the code is insufficient. We must also believe chance created the cellular translation devices. How could a translation device, formed by chance, interpret information also formed by chance? How could a haphazard machine translate something with now meaning into meaning?
Which came first? Not likely the genetic code, if there was nothing to translate it. That would be like books existing before there were people to read them. But why would translation devices evolve first, if there was no genetic code to read? This is yet another irreducible complexity.
Tornado in a Junkyard, James Perloff, Refuge Books 2002, pp.