An excercise in thinking

- So, basically, when scientists describe what the universe looked like ten billion years ago, or when they describe conditions in distant galaxies, they assume that the same natural laws are uniformly valid throughout the aeons and across the light years. But this is just an assumption, and the scientist has no means of testing its veracity.

Billy looked at professor Brainy with large eyes. He could recognize the tone in the professor's voice, that tone it always had when the old man was on the verge of plunging into one of his long-winded arguments, and Billy was eager to accompany him.

- What if the assumption were false? What if the natural laws that are valid here on planet Earth are totally different from those that govern distant stars. Maybe that's why we have yet to come in contact with extraterrestrial life forms; maybe the natural laws of distant planets don't allow life? It wouldn't require more than a minuscule change in the values of some of the fundamental constants of physics to make life impossible.

The professor took a break to take a sip from the glass of water that stood on his desk. His eyes were coming alive with a strange glow.

- Or what if the natural laws have changed over the course of time? Have you ever wondered why, despite ten thousand years of human civilization, it is only during the last few hundred years that we have perfected all the technological wonders that we have today?

Billy was listening intently, but a strange triedness was coming over him. There was a low buzzing in the back of his skull that wouldn't let him focus entirely on the professors words. Some of the old man's reasonings were slipping away from under his feet.

- Or take this old mystery of evolutionary biology; the human species is without question one of the most succesful species in the history of this planet. We have conquered more or less every single land environment on earth, and we have, um...

What was the professor saying? Billy didn't get half the words the old man was uttering. Was he being unusually obtuse, or was Billy just in a stupid mood? He didn't know. Something in the dark corners of his brain was telling him that something was not right, but he couldn't remember what. A bug of some kind was sitting at the professor's desk, but Billy couldn't tell which kind it was. Was it a fly? Or maybe a, wassername, wasp? Shit, what was that old geezer saying?!

- Er... we are succesful. That's the whole point. And it's thanks to us being, um, smart. So if, um, smartness makes you so successful, why haven't there been any more animals as smart as us before? Why don't we dig up the bones of some smart dinosaur from the, whatsitcalled?

Billy got the sense that the professor was coming close to an important point, but he could no longer remember how the argument had started or what it was about.

- The cretaceous! Yeah? Why dontcha? Well, maybe intelligence requires some specific, ummm, some specific set of natural laws that have only existed for... umm... for a limited time... umm... and will some day cease to... umm...

The professor's voice trailed off. He stood up.

- God! So fucking hard to think... need some air...

They boy at the chair saw the old man walk out, and returned his attention to the bug at the desk. It sat there for about a minute, and then it buzzed off.Then the boy got up. He was hungry, but he couldn't quite remember what one was supposed to do when one was hungry.