“They can actually swing that turret around and shoot over their head, shoot to the right, shoot to the left, underneath them,” added Erwin. “The only place they can actually not shoot is where their mouthparts are.” You wouldn’t want to get a taste of your own medicine if you were one of these beetles, now would you?
According to a study by the legendary late ecological chemist Thomas Eisner, such an incredibly evolved trait was likely driven by one of the world’s feistiest selection pressures: ants. You see, to escape swarming ants, ground beetles like the bombardiers have to unfurl their wings from covers and are unable to take flight as rapidly as, say, a bee. Having such a dexterous turret allows the bombardier to hold its ground against the ants to buy time, deftly dispatching the attackers clambering over its body. Indeed, some bombardier species’ bum cannons are so effective that their wings have even become vestigial and useless.
Creation or Random Chance?
Random evolutionary theory has big problems when attempting to explain the existence and complexity of the bombardier beetle by means of random, chance happenings. Each stage in the evolution of its special chemicals would have led to its destruction. This one-half inch insect mixes chemicals that violently react to produce something similar to an explosion. How could the bombardier beetle have evolved such a complex means of defense without killing itself in the process? This problem has the members of the evolutionary establishment scratching their heads. Evolutionary theory says that you lose it if you don’t use it. But, how do you use it unless you have it in completed and in fully functional form?
We have two options then. One is to believe that a mindless, random, chance process brought into existence exactly what would be essential for the creature to maintain life and defend itself. The other option is that an intelligence designed and created precisely what was needed for the welfare of the creature and encoded the information in its genes. With random evolution, a new enzyme or chemical or organ or fin or beak or bone will have to randomly, mindlessly, unexplainably evolve until the creature gains its new improvement.
The bombardier beetle is irreducibly complex. Remember back in fourth grade when we reduced fractions down until they could be reduced no farther? This beetle cannot be reduced! If it doesn’t have all its parts, it can’t defend itself or, even worse, it could blow itself up. Naturally, it could not evolve after it blew itself up and was dead, so how did it get here?
To prevent its own destruction, the little bug manufactures a chemical, called an inhibitor, and mixes it in with the reactive chemicals. But with the inhibitor, it would not be able to use the expulsion of hot, burning liquid and gases to discourage its enemies. A spider would eat it because the beetle has no solution to exploit to protect itself. Again, we have a dead beetle. Dead bugs cannot evolve the next chemical needed to release the protective reaction. That chemical turns out to be an anti-inhibitor. When the anti-inhibitor is added to the other chemicals, an explosive reaction does occur and the beetle is able to defend itself.
There is still another problem, however. The beetle must have an especially tough “combustion chamber.” That chamber must have an outlet for the violent reaction to release its energy or once again, we have a dead bug. Problem solved: this unique creature has the necessary equipment, including twin-tail tubes to “exhaust” its defensive reaction. These tubes can be aimed at enemies in a 180° arc from straight to the rear, to directly toward the front. Amazingly, it does not shoot friendly creatures but only its enemies! How does a one-half inch long insect know how to aim at and shoot potential enemies?
When the little bug shoots its cannons (and it can shoot either side individually or both sides together) all we hear with our human ears is a “pop.” But it is not just a single pop. It is a series of sequential pops that sequence so fast we only hear one “pop.” If it was just one big POP, it would be like lighting the after-burners on a jet engine and the diminutive creature would blow itself out of the picture. But with a sequential pop it can hang on with its little legs and remain in place! Incredible!
How did its incredibly complex nervous system and advanced chemical system evolve? There is nothing exactly like bombardier beetles in the entire animal kingdom. Is this an example of the “impersonal, plus time, plus chance” or is it an example of a special, intricate creation?
