We, Too, are an Experiment.
As you will hear in the discussion on the Cambrian Explosion offered by BBC below, most biologists that evolution is an innovative and experimental process, even at the molecular level, with its random mutations and shifting genetic landscapes. This process, filled with creativity, unfolds in fits and starts—marked by sudden leaps, long pauses, and many evolutionary dead ends. As a Christian, I’ve often wondered where, if at all, God is present in this unpredictable and improvisational unfolding. Process philosophy invites me to imagine that God is not outside the process but within it—as a lure toward innovation, even at the molecular level—and that God, too, shares in both the triumphs and the failures of evolution. At one stage in this unfolding, an organism emerged—hominids—capable of a new and delicate kind of experience: empathy and kindness, cooperation and shared creativity. It is said that, in our empathy and kindness, we have a capacity to mirror a special feature of the divine life, namely its love. We are made in God's image, says the Bible, and we can grow into God's likeness. No less than the trilobites and starfish, we, too, are an experiment.
- Jay McDaniel
- Jay McDaniel
The Cambrian Explosion:
A Discussion among Scientists
Melvyn Bragg and guests discuss the Cambrian period when there was an explosion of life on Earth. In the Selkirk Mountains of British Columbia in Canada, there is an outcrop of limestone shot through with a seam of fine dark shale. A sudden mudslide into shallow water some 550 million years ago means that a startling array of wonderful organisms has been preserved within it. Wide eyed creatures with tentacles below and spines on their backs, things like flattened rolls of carpet with a set of teeth at one end, squids with big lobster-like arms. There are thousands of them and they seem to testify to a time when evolution took a leap and life on this planet suddenly went from being small, simple and fairly rare to being large, complex, numerous and dizzyingly diverse. It happened in the Cambrian Period and it's known as the Cambrian Explosion.
But if this is the great crucible of life on Earth, what could have caused it? How do the strange creatures relate to life as we see it now? And what does the Cambrian Explosion tell us about the nature of evolution?
With Simon Conway Morris, Professor of Evolutionary Palaeobiology, Cambridge University; Richard Corfield, Visiting Senior Lecturer at the Centre for Earth, Planetary, Space and Astronomical Research, Open University; Jane Francis, Professor of Palaeoclimatology, University of Leeds.
But if this is the great crucible of life on Earth, what could have caused it? How do the strange creatures relate to life as we see it now? And what does the Cambrian Explosion tell us about the nature of evolution?
With Simon Conway Morris, Professor of Evolutionary Palaeobiology, Cambridge University; Richard Corfield, Visiting Senior Lecturer at the Centre for Earth, Planetary, Space and Astronomical Research, Open University; Jane Francis, Professor of Palaeoclimatology, University of Leeds.
A Visual Introduction
Process Theology and
the Cambrian Explosion
A Dramatic Chapter in the History of Life
The Cambrian Explosion, which occurred around 541 million years ago, marks one of the most dramatic and imaginative chapters in the history of life on Earth. In a geological instant—some 20 to 25 million years—life underwent a burst of diversification, giving rise to many of the fundamental animal body plans that still shape the biosphere today. Trilobites with their articulated shells and compound eyes, worm-like creatures bristling with spines like Hallucigenia, and early chordates such as Pikaia, all emerged in this period. These were not mere variations on a theme but radical inventions—novel experiments in the architecture of life. From the standpoint of evolutionary biology, this diversification was driven by changes in ocean chemistry, oxygen levels, ecological pressures, and the deployment of genetic toolkits such as Hox genes. But from the standpoint of process philosophy—particularly the work of Alfred North Whitehead—this event can be understood not only as a biological breakthrough but as a profound metaphysical moment: a creative advance into novelty arising from the decisions of matter itself.
When It Happened: The 24-Hour Clock of Earth’s History
To appreciate the scale of this event, imagine Earth’s 4.5 billion-year history compressed into a single 24-hour day. Life begins as early as 4:00 AM, with single-celled organisms dominating for much of the day. Around 8:30 PM, multicellularity appears. And then, at approximately 9:10 PM, the Cambrian Explosion unfolds. It lies well before the appearance of dinosaurs (around 10:40 PM), and long before humans appear, just seconds before midnight. The Cambrian marks an early flowering of life’s internal urge toward complexity, long before vertebrates or consciousness emerged. The novelty here is astonishing: new modes of locomotion, vision, digestion, and defense. But where exactly was this novelty generated?
The Innovation Beneath the Surface: A Molecular Perspective
At the molecular level, several major innovations laid the groundwork for the Cambrian Explosion. Hox genes, which direct the development of body plans during embryogenesis, were not new in themselves—but how they were used was. Through small changes in gene expression and timing, organisms could develop limbs in new places, segment their bodies in new ways, and create entirely new forms. Additionally, gene regulation—the orchestration of when and where genes are turned on and off—became more complex and plastic. Epigenetic processes, such as DNA methylation, allowed for more adaptability and variation even without changes in the genetic code. Meanwhile, rising oxygen levels in the oceans permitted organisms to grow larger and more active, fueling the emergence of predators and prey, which in turn drove evolutionary innovation.
What might appear from a conventional view as a set of random mutations or environmental triggers, from a Whiteheadian perspective looks like something deeper: not just physical shifts, but existential decisions. Whitehead proposed that all actual entities, from electrons to cells to societies, are occasions of experience. These are not passive events but creative acts of becoming, shaped by both inheritance and novelty. Each actual occasion feels the past, selects from among possible futures, and brings a new actuality into being. This process is called concrescence—the becoming of one from the many—and at its heart lies decision: the act of cutting off some possibilities in order to actualize others. In the Cambrian context, every folding protein, every regulatory switch, every cell division was a tiny but real instance of decision. The explosion of life was, in this view, a cascading series of such decisions—a massive orchestration of creativity at microcosmic scales.
Where Was God? The Divine Lure Within the Becoming
And what of God? Where might divinity be found in this web of molecular novelty and evolutionary experimentation? In process theology, God is not understood as a distant, omnipotent designer, nor as a coercive force shaping life from above. Rather, God is the lure of the possible—the Eros of the universe—offering to each actual occasion a vision of what could be, a pull toward intensity, beauty, and relational richness. God is present not by imposing outcomes, but by proposing them. These divine possibilities—Whitehead called them “initial aims”—do not determine, but invite. Each molecule, cell, and organism responds in its own way, freely but not arbitrarily. During the Cambrian Explosion, God was not outside of nature but within it, participating in every moment of becoming as the source of novelty and the companion of risk.
Success and Failure: The Risky Nature of Innovation
It is important to remember that innovation is not the same as evolutionary success. Many of the forms that appeared in the Cambrian did not survive. Life experimented, but not all experiments lasted. Evolution is full of fits and starts. Some creatures flourished, others vanished. Whole body plans came and went, leaving only traces in the fossil record. From a process perspective, this does not diminish their value. Even the failures were acts of creativity, moments of concrescence, brief but real instantiations of the universe trying something new. Innovation includes both triumph and collapse, and divine presence is found in both. God, in this theology, is not merely in the winners but in the whole: in the surprise of the new, in the dignity of the failed, and in the ongoing rhythm of becoming.
A Universe Alive with Possibility
Thus, the Cambrian Explosion is more than a biological event—it is a window into the creativity of the cosmos. It shows us that life is not a static system but a living process, and that novelty emerges from the depths, not just from above. Molecular activity is not mindless, but expressive—each fold, each bond, each interaction a small decision shaped by past inheritances and future possibilities. And God is in the midst of it—not as commander, but as companion and lure. If we look at the Cambrian with these eyes, we can say that the sea itself dreamed, and that in its dreaming, fins and eyes and teeth and softness were born. God was there, not to guarantee success, but to whisper possibility into the deep, and to let the world become what it could.
At one stage in this unfolding process of creative advance, an organism emerged—hominids—capable of a new and fragile form of experience: empathy and kindness, cooperation and shared creativity. These capacities did not emerge all at once, nor are they universal or guaranteed. But they signal a new kind of innovation—not merely structural, but moral and relational. We, too, are an experiment—one of nature’s boldest, still unfinished. Our calling, perhaps, is not only to marvel at the creativity of the past, but to carry it forward: to choose novelty wisely, to live into the lure of love, and to participate consciously in the becoming of a more compassionate world.
The Cambrian Explosion, which occurred around 541 million years ago, marks one of the most dramatic and imaginative chapters in the history of life on Earth. In a geological instant—some 20 to 25 million years—life underwent a burst of diversification, giving rise to many of the fundamental animal body plans that still shape the biosphere today. Trilobites with their articulated shells and compound eyes, worm-like creatures bristling with spines like Hallucigenia, and early chordates such as Pikaia, all emerged in this period. These were not mere variations on a theme but radical inventions—novel experiments in the architecture of life. From the standpoint of evolutionary biology, this diversification was driven by changes in ocean chemistry, oxygen levels, ecological pressures, and the deployment of genetic toolkits such as Hox genes. But from the standpoint of process philosophy—particularly the work of Alfred North Whitehead—this event can be understood not only as a biological breakthrough but as a profound metaphysical moment: a creative advance into novelty arising from the decisions of matter itself.
When It Happened: The 24-Hour Clock of Earth’s History
To appreciate the scale of this event, imagine Earth’s 4.5 billion-year history compressed into a single 24-hour day. Life begins as early as 4:00 AM, with single-celled organisms dominating for much of the day. Around 8:30 PM, multicellularity appears. And then, at approximately 9:10 PM, the Cambrian Explosion unfolds. It lies well before the appearance of dinosaurs (around 10:40 PM), and long before humans appear, just seconds before midnight. The Cambrian marks an early flowering of life’s internal urge toward complexity, long before vertebrates or consciousness emerged. The novelty here is astonishing: new modes of locomotion, vision, digestion, and defense. But where exactly was this novelty generated?
The Innovation Beneath the Surface: A Molecular Perspective
At the molecular level, several major innovations laid the groundwork for the Cambrian Explosion. Hox genes, which direct the development of body plans during embryogenesis, were not new in themselves—but how they were used was. Through small changes in gene expression and timing, organisms could develop limbs in new places, segment their bodies in new ways, and create entirely new forms. Additionally, gene regulation—the orchestration of when and where genes are turned on and off—became more complex and plastic. Epigenetic processes, such as DNA methylation, allowed for more adaptability and variation even without changes in the genetic code. Meanwhile, rising oxygen levels in the oceans permitted organisms to grow larger and more active, fueling the emergence of predators and prey, which in turn drove evolutionary innovation.
What might appear from a conventional view as a set of random mutations or environmental triggers, from a Whiteheadian perspective looks like something deeper: not just physical shifts, but existential decisions. Whitehead proposed that all actual entities, from electrons to cells to societies, are occasions of experience. These are not passive events but creative acts of becoming, shaped by both inheritance and novelty. Each actual occasion feels the past, selects from among possible futures, and brings a new actuality into being. This process is called concrescence—the becoming of one from the many—and at its heart lies decision: the act of cutting off some possibilities in order to actualize others. In the Cambrian context, every folding protein, every regulatory switch, every cell division was a tiny but real instance of decision. The explosion of life was, in this view, a cascading series of such decisions—a massive orchestration of creativity at microcosmic scales.
Where Was God? The Divine Lure Within the Becoming
And what of God? Where might divinity be found in this web of molecular novelty and evolutionary experimentation? In process theology, God is not understood as a distant, omnipotent designer, nor as a coercive force shaping life from above. Rather, God is the lure of the possible—the Eros of the universe—offering to each actual occasion a vision of what could be, a pull toward intensity, beauty, and relational richness. God is present not by imposing outcomes, but by proposing them. These divine possibilities—Whitehead called them “initial aims”—do not determine, but invite. Each molecule, cell, and organism responds in its own way, freely but not arbitrarily. During the Cambrian Explosion, God was not outside of nature but within it, participating in every moment of becoming as the source of novelty and the companion of risk.
Success and Failure: The Risky Nature of Innovation
It is important to remember that innovation is not the same as evolutionary success. Many of the forms that appeared in the Cambrian did not survive. Life experimented, but not all experiments lasted. Evolution is full of fits and starts. Some creatures flourished, others vanished. Whole body plans came and went, leaving only traces in the fossil record. From a process perspective, this does not diminish their value. Even the failures were acts of creativity, moments of concrescence, brief but real instantiations of the universe trying something new. Innovation includes both triumph and collapse, and divine presence is found in both. God, in this theology, is not merely in the winners but in the whole: in the surprise of the new, in the dignity of the failed, and in the ongoing rhythm of becoming.
A Universe Alive with Possibility
Thus, the Cambrian Explosion is more than a biological event—it is a window into the creativity of the cosmos. It shows us that life is not a static system but a living process, and that novelty emerges from the depths, not just from above. Molecular activity is not mindless, but expressive—each fold, each bond, each interaction a small decision shaped by past inheritances and future possibilities. And God is in the midst of it—not as commander, but as companion and lure. If we look at the Cambrian with these eyes, we can say that the sea itself dreamed, and that in its dreaming, fins and eyes and teeth and softness were born. God was there, not to guarantee success, but to whisper possibility into the deep, and to let the world become what it could.
At one stage in this unfolding process of creative advance, an organism emerged—hominids—capable of a new and fragile form of experience: empathy and kindness, cooperation and shared creativity. These capacities did not emerge all at once, nor are they universal or guaranteed. But they signal a new kind of innovation—not merely structural, but moral and relational. We, too, are an experiment—one of nature’s boldest, still unfinished. Our calling, perhaps, is not only to marvel at the creativity of the past, but to carry it forward: to choose novelty wisely, to live into the lure of love, and to participate consciously in the becoming of a more compassionate world.
See Also: A Theology of Trilobites