The Problem of Complexity

Malthus Pondering Population Dynamics

Something has been bothering me. Tis the great mystery of complexity that only received a satisfactory answer in the middle of the 19th century.

Consider the following scenario: You are a highly educated gentleman of circa 1810, well ensconced in your middle years and middle England. You are a child of the Enlightenment and the Scientific Revolution. Like most gentlemen of 'independent means', you have no need to work and can dabble in the sciences or arts as you see fit. Although you consider yourself a man of science, you have received a liberal arts education embracing literature, theology and philosophy, and you are fluent in the dead language, Latin. You were brought up as a Christian, in particular, the Church of England. Both parents were devout and pious. From an early age, you found the Bible disquieting. Some passages disturbed you on the moral level. Clearly, the God of the Old Testament was more akin to an evil demon than the supposed loving, just, and righteous God as preached by the Reverend Mugumbo from the pulpit every Sunday. The sermons were deceptively selective, and unlike the majority of parishioners, our man had actually read the bible. With the march of science, the Bible's cosmology and other matters bearing on nature and natural processes he found to be contradictory to solid, testable science. And he could go on...

Earlier, as a young man, he began to lose his faith and started to attend lectures given by the local 'Humanist Society'. Lectures on 'Non-Belief' were frequent visitors to the agenda. It made so much sense. In the past, religion was seen as the only answer to questions about forces, actions, and occurrences that have now been found to have naturalistic explanations. Mr Newton and others have uncovered mysteries that were ascribed to the hand of God. God does not seem to play a role in this world; science has shown us that all natural phenomena have scientific mechanisms of action. If this is the case, why need God?

Surely there was nothing left to explain that could not be explained by science, or was there? There was one question that seemed impossible for science to answer. The theist could state, and with some conviction and intellectual plausability- "O clever scientist, pray provide an answer to this conundrum: How can we explain the manifest complexity of the natural world of which we are a part? Even the simplest bacterial organisms are highly complex arrays of specialised organelles, biochemical processes and intricate protein structures. How can complexity arise from simplicity if not by the hand of God?" This was the question that kept our incipient atheist awake at night and from full commitment, even though he knew that the so-called 'God Hypothesis' was tantamount to no answer at all. There must be a rational solution that is not reliant on supernatural deities. There must be a natural mechanism that relies on observable, rational scientific processes. But here was the rub: What was that rational, naturalistic process that could produce such mind-boggling complexity? The problem seemed insurmountable. 

Sadly, our puzzled scientific hero was born too early and did not live long enough to see the scientific paradigm shift of 1859. With the publication of 'On the Origin of Species', his question had been answered. Not only had the problem been solved, but the proposed mechanism, on casual inspection at least, seemed remarkably simple. This raised the obvious question: Why had it not been deduced by the greatest minds of yesteryear? The shades of Aristotle, Archimedes, Galileo and Newton come forth and shake their collective head. There are many others in the shadows. They stand agape, contemplating the simple majesty of the evolutionary process, pondering a lost opportunity. 

The fact is, the time was right. Remember poor Alfred Wallace, who had independently come to the same conclusion about the Great Question at the same time as Darwin? We all remember Charles Darwin, but Wallace has somehow been lost in the annals of time. This screams redress, and I have commissioned a post of rehabilitation and justice. Watch this space.    

Mayhap, we should give the greatest intellects that have ever existed a break. They were not privy to the groundwork of scientific endeavour preceding the ultimate theory. The 18th and 19th centuries were a time of wonder and scientific exploration unprecedented in history. Scientific discoveries of this time provided the knowledge basis for the encouragement of evolutionary thought. In particular, theories proposed by the evolutionary thinker Lamarck (1744-1829), with his idea of 'Acquired Characteristics', were particularly important. In addition, the work of the economist Malthus (1766-1834), whose toil on population dynamics in a world of limited resources was particularly influential. Ultimately, nature is prodigiously wasteful and cruel. It was he who penned the epithet: 'Survival of the Fittest'. Good man that Malthus. 

Today, evolutionary theory is very much solid mainstream science. However, when first proposed, there were many detractors. And not all objections were based on irrational fundamentalist theological thinking. For instance, for such a theory to work, vast aeons of time were required for adaptive change to occur. At the time, estimates of the Earth's age based on geological evidence ranged from 1 million to 100 million years. How could evolution have carved the biological complexity we see today from simplicity in but a few million years? Religious adherents were still convinced that the world was but a meagre 6,000 years based on biblical calculations. It wasn't until the middle of the 20th century, using sophisticated techniques, that the true age of the Earth (4.5 billion years) was determined. Further objections were based on the genetic mechanism itself. At the time Darwin's seminal book was published, the genetic mechanism of heredity was unknown. The prevailing theory of the time envisaged a blending of hereditary components from both parents, analogous to blending dissimilar-coloured fluids. But this would dilute hereditary components, rendering evolution as proposed by Darwin impossible. Darwin countered with a hypothesis where heredity was particulate (gemmules), but it was unnecessarily complex and implausible. It would take the rediscovery of Mendel's work on heredity in the early 20th century to finally provide a sound genetic mechanism in accord with Darwinism.

Perhaps, the most difficult objection to Darwin's theory was not scientific but existential. The painful implication was obvious: humans were not 'special'. It knocked us off the biological pedestal. We were just another animal, the smartest, yes, but really just another and latest iteration of the simian species. Furthermore, we had evolved from 'lesser species'; slimemold was our kin. This was a revelation that hit the hardest and was perhaps the most difficult concept for mankind to process and assimilate. Our central, superior, and unique place in the world was deeply ingrained over countless generations. To think otherwise was unthinkable and would never have been contemplated by Aristotle or Newton alike. Man was but a beast, a smart one for sure, but still a beast. In hindsight, it should have been obvious. Man has always been an animalistic brute; evolution made us so.       

Evolutionary theory provokes controversy even today. Quixotically, it seems that, at least in the Western world, the US is unique in posing challenges to theory, and certain folk and fundamentalist organisations in that country are keen to promote an alternative based on Divine Intervention, whatever that means. And let us be clear, this viewpoint is not confined to a few cranks. This crowd has clout with influential friends that weild politicol power. Woe is the day that 'Creation Science' is taught in conjunction with Evolutionary theory, as a matter of law, in science classes. When this day comes, and rationalists fail in their efforts to stymie such ridiculous legislation, the death knell of rational thought and belief will be the herald that precedes the end of Western Civilisation. When a civilisation falls, history is our guide on the consequences. And those consequences are invariably barbarism.      

Carthago Delenda Est: Third Punic War- Prologue

I entreat my readers to take the trouble to read my posts concerning the two preceding wars (Punic Wars, I &2) between the arch-enemies, Carthage and Rome, which finally culminated in the 'Third Punic War' (149 BC to 146 BC). To be honest, information about these wars is scattered across several posts, and, from memory, none of them is titled 'First & Second Punic War'. However, if you search with these terms, you will find relevant posts. Also, searching using 'Hannibal', 'Hamilcar', 'Scipio Africanus' and 'Zama' should reveal kindred posts buried deep within the arcane archives of this decidedly odd blog. Some knowledge of these great conflicts will benefit the reader and help in the understanding of why these vastly different nations became embroiled in a 'life and death' struggle to the bitter end. 

The three wars fought between these two dominant ancient Mediterranean civilisations were, in hindsight, inevitable, and, believe it or not, we are still dealing with the aftereffects 2,000 years later. The outcome of this struggle, spanning over 100 years, has had overriding consequences for the development of Western Civilisation, yet it is rarely part of the high school curriculum. This is a wicked shame, as there is much to learn and assimilate from this critical 118-year period in history. 

The Carthaginians have largely been erased from history. For this, we can blame the Romans. The Romans had many enemies during their rise as a Mediterranean power and the subsequent establishment of their mighty Empire. Of all the foes, there was one that during Rome's march to greatness came close to ending their ascent. At the hands of this enemy, Rome suffered catastrophes that would have destroyed any other nation. However, Rome weathered this series of calamitous defeats, survived, thrived, and would eventually exact a cruel revenge, culminating in the eradication of her once most formidable adversary, the Carthaginians. However, today, if you ask the 'man' in the street if they can name a single Carthaginian, they would fail. If prompted (or poked with a pointed stick) with the clue 'Ancient General and Elephants', there might be a 'light bulb' moment, hence the exclamation 'Hannibal'. This is a shame on several levels. Firstly, it reveals the woeful lack of education in the average 'man on the street'. But it also unveils that the Carthaginians were not particularly imaginative in their naming protocol. The majority of  Carthaginians mentioned in the ancient literature were named accordingly: Hamilcar, Hannibal, Hadsdrubal, Mago, Himlico, Carthalo, Gisgo, Hanno, and Malchus. These are men's names, and I bet over 95% of Carthaginian men mentioned in ancient accounts had one of these very uninspired and limited list of monikers. Not a Gary or Kevin amongst the lot. 

Back to Being Sensible

Tyre, in what is now Lebanon, has been continuously inhabited for over 4,000 years. The city thrived in the Bronze Age and became a dominant seafaring power of the region. During the early 9th century BC, Tyre founded Carthage (Qart Hadash- 'New City') on the coast of North Africa. Other colonies would follow and dot the north African coastline. The cities were never politically unified, but shared a language and culture, and would come to each other's aid in times of need, except when they didn't.

By the 5th century BC, Carthage and Greece were the dominant powers of the Mediterranean region. Predictably, the Carthaginians and the Greeks clashed, and battles were fought for the control of the island of Sicily. By the time of the 1st Punic War (264 BC-241 BC), the Carthaginians held the western end of the island, while the Greeks controlled the eastern end. 

With the expansion of Roman power into the Greek-controlled regions of southern Italy (Magna Graecia), a clash between the Romans and the Greek city of Tarantum was assured. A sometime Macedonian king, sometime freebooter, Pyrrhus of Epirus and his army were invited by the beleaguered city (Pyrrhic War, 280 BC-275 BC) to come to their aid against the encroaching and pesky Romans. Phyrrus envisioned an easy victory ahead with booty akimbo. And thus he interfered and, at first, won a series of battles against the Romans, but at great cost. He was reported to have said: "Another victory like this, and I will be going home alone". Eventually, Pyrrhus was defeated, and he returned to Greece with his much-depleted army to cause mischief as he saw fit, and subsequently met his end after being hit on the noggin by a roof tile in the Greek city of Argos. 

In 264 BC, the Romans were invited to meddle in Sicilian affairs. Once there, the Romans came into conflict with Carthage. The war between the nations dragged on for 23 years, resulting in the defeat of Carthage. Sicily was annexed and became a Roman province. Smarting from defeat, the Carthaginians vowed revenge. But before this aggression could be carried out, they faced the problem of paying the war indemnity imposed by the victors. This would be achieved by expanding their presence in Spain. Spain was not only a lucrative source of silver but also supplied the Carthaginian armies with tough Spanish tribesmen. 

After a peace lasting 23 years, the Carthaginians felt strong enough to challenge Rome for a second bout. The treaty imposed by Rome after the First War had deprived the Carthaginians of most of their navy, making an attack by sea difficult. By 218 BC, the Carthaginians had established a strong position in Spain and, more importantly, had assembled a formidable army under a relatively new and untried commander named Hannibal Barca. Hannibal did the unthinkable and invaded Italy by land after marching his army across the Alps. What Hannibal did in that fateful year would initiate the Second Punic War (218 BC to 202 BC), alter the course of history, and establish a legend. His tale is told in this blog. Those who seek will find. 

After 16 years of causing havoc, Hannibal and his diminishing army had been corralled into southern Italy. After a Roman army landed in North Africa, the Carthaginians recalled Hannibal. Sadly for Hannibal, most of his horses, and therefore the power of his cavalry arm, could not be taken. To deny this valuable asset to the Romans, they were slaughtered. It is hard to imagine the horror experienced by the troops, as these beautiful, trusting, and beloved beyond measure animals were sacrificed on the altar of expediency. 

The battle of Zama (202 BC) sealed Carthage's fate. Carthage had become a vassal state to Roman power. The indemnity was oppressive, payable in grain and silver over 30 years. In addition, Spain became a Roman province. The Carthaginians could no longer exercise their power to go to war unless sanctioned by Rome. But regardless of provocation, Rome was in no mood to be kind to their defeated enemy. And provocations were plenty as Massinisa, the Numidian king, chipped away at Carthaginian lands to provide fertile land for his people. The only resort for the vanquished was to appeal to Rome. Roman Commisions came aplenty over the years to assess and adjudicate. But predictably, the Romans almost always sided with their longtime ally, the Numidians. 

By 197 BC, Carthage had had enough, and its army engaged the Numidians in battle. The Carthaginians were worsted. But in the Roman eyes, they broke the treaty, and they were itching for a pretext to finally destroy their once formidable enemy. Instead of a commission, an army was sent to the North African shore. Delegations from Carthage nervously approached the Roman host and petitioned for clemency. The Romans were implacable and demanded that all arms of war be handed over and that they await further instructions. The desperate and wretched Carthaginians complied and awaited their fate in abject helplessness. Finally, Rome announced: "The citizens of Carthage were to leave their city and settle in the hinterland. They were not allowed to settle on the coast". Rome had struck the death knell for the Punic people. Finally, Hannibal's depredations were to be atoned for. The city, which had flourished for 700 years, was to be pillaged and destroyed. These conditions were too harsh, and predictably, the Carthaginians chose to fight to the death. They were under no illusions concerning the outcome. Better to die fighting for the city they loved than suffer an ignoble death at the hands of the environment and the barbaric Numidians. Rome was always quick to accuse the Carthaginians of 'Punic Faith' (Punica Fides), but on this occasion, it seems the Romans were quick to illustrate a degree of perfidy unbefitting their supposed rigid adherence to treaty protocol and fairness.

And thus we see the beginning of the Third Punic War. The last conflict between these two disparate nations. The final clash of arms, resulting in the eradication of Carthaginian power, was about to be fought: The death ride of the Punic Nation. 

The next post in this compelling, nay, gripping saga, will continue sometime soon. It will detail the war as it unfolded. It is a story of stark necessity, of heroism borne of fortitude, cruelty borne of desperation, and finally a very human response to finality. We should all read and weep, because someday we may become Carthage.