The more we learn about living systems, the harder they are to explain without invoking teleology — purpose, planning, goal. If an intelligent designer is off the table, this creates a dilemma for some. 

Wouldn’t it be great if you could have your cake and eat it too — have design, without a designer? In 2023, MIT Press released an edited volume of papers by prominent biologists and philosophers of science titled Evolution “On Purpose”: Teleonomy in Living Systems. The purpose of the volume is to promote the theory of “teleonomy.” Teleonomy is “internal teleology” — goal-directedness that comes from within a system, not from outside. Under this theory, there need be no God (or aliens, or Platonic or Aristotelian forms, or anything of the sort) guiding the development of living systems; the living systems themselves set the goals.

The “Unspoken” Inference 

Biologist Peter Corning, one of the editors of the volume, writes: 

The evolution of humankind is undoubtedly the most striking example of how teleonomy has exerted a shaping influence in biological evolution, but a case can be made that teleonomy was also involved in many of the great turning points and transitions in the history of life on Earth, including the earliest colonization of the seafloor, the emergence of the eukaryotes, the migration of life forms from the oceans onto the land, the rise of multicellular organisms, the development of land plants and trees, the origin of fish, birds, and mammals, the invention of social organization, the division of labor (task specialization), and more. 

Teleonomy is also an implicit (though unspoken) influence in connection with many other familiar terms, I would argue, including “symbiogenesis,” “organic selection theory,” evolutionary “pacemakers,” the “Baldwin effect,” “major transitions theory,” “niche construction theory,” “gene-culture coevolution theory,” “natural genetic engineering,” many examples of “semiosis,” and, recently, the concept of “agency” in evolution. These terms all suggest the role of purposive behavior. A radically different view of evolution has been emerging in this century. We now know that living systems actively shape their own evolution, in various ways.

In other words, Corning is saying that all sorts of evolutionary theories contain the hidden assumption of purposiveness, i.e., design. This is an important admission, since it’s what ID theorists have been saying. 

Of course, he differs on where this design comes from. But it’s worth noting that the thesis of teleonomy implicitly acknowledges the validity of the design inference. If you can infer design in nature, you can infer design in nature. Period. Then you can decide whether it comes from within or from without.

That means that if the teleonomic explanation (“living systems actively shape their own evolution”) doesn’t hold up, the old alternative hypothesis will be there, waiting.  

Is Teleonomy a Good Explanation? 

So, does the teleonomic explanation hold up? Well, we have to ask: where does “teleonomy” come from? Why does it exist? 

The answer, according to Evolution “On Purpose”, is that it come from… drum roll… evolution. In addition to causing evolution. 

The term “teleonomy,” Corning writes, was coined “to draw a contrast between an ‘external’ teleology (Aristotelian or religious) and the ‘internal’ purposiveness and goal-directedness of living systems, which are products of the evolutionary process and of natural selection.” However, teleonomy is “not simply a product of natural selection. It is also an important cause of natural selection and has been a major shaping influence over time in biological evolution.” Conversely, natural selection “has been both a cause of this purposiveness and an outcome.”

This is not, in itself, illogical. You could have two forces at work — purpose and natural selection — that synergistically encourage each other, in a sort of positive feedback loop. But then, you still have to explain how the feedback loop got started. 

Imagine that someone asks an evolutionary biologist where chickens came from. 

“Eggs,” the scientist replies. 

“Where did eggs come from?” his interlocuter replies. 

“Chickens!” says the scientist. 

The problem with this explanation is not that it is false. As it happens, it is quite true. The problem is that it fails to explain. It does not answer the question that was really being asked.

Likewise, “teleonomy” fails to explain. The design of nature requires an explanation, an ultimate explanation. Rather than explain, invoking “teleonomy” just dodges the question. If we say that natural selection and random variation cannot explain something, evolutionary biologists can say, “Well, it’s not random variation, it’s goal-oriented.” If we ask where the goal-oriented-ness itself came from, they will say “natural selection.” The question returns to where it began; a final cause for the existence of design in nature has yet to be proposed.

Avoiding the Question

I suspect it will never be proposed, because the point is to sweep the problem under the rug by obscuring it in a complexity of causes. The theory of teleonomy does not address — is not even in dialogue with — the arguments of, say, Michael Behe or William Dembski that unguided processes simply cannot generate novel information or irreducibly complex systems. But it does make it harder to apply those arguments, because there is nothing concrete to discuss. We are not talking about a bacterial flagellum, or an eye, or even a brain — we are talking about a vague internal “purposiveness.” This purposiveness, if it exists and is not supernatural, would have to arise from some organized and complex system. But the exact nature of that system is hidden somewhere in an endless chain of “purposiveness caused by natural selection caused by purposiveness caused by natural selection…” going back who knows how far.

In future posts, I plan to discuss some of the specific mechanisms for evolution proposed in the Evolution “On Purpose”anthology. However, this is the basic problem that underlies the whole endeavor. At the end of the day, ordered complexity requires either extreme luck or intentional planning. The idea that life itself did this planning may sound like a clever work-around, but in the end it’s no better than the idea of a god who created himself. 

Nothing can create itself. Everything has a cause, until you get back to some eternal First Cause. Any attempt to avoid that logical destination is just stalling.