Why Would a ‘Perfect Creator’ Give Us Sinuses That Don’t Drain?

Have you ever been in an argument with theists or believers where they claim, "If something as complex and intricate as life and human DNA exists, there must be an intelligent designer behind it"? Well, their reasoning isn't entirely flawed—unless they understand how evolution works.

The reality isn’t as simple as "either something exists or it doesn’t." Human DNA, our eyes, and every intricate feature of our bodies are not the result of a single design by some supernatural force. Instead, they are the product of millions of years of evolution. And yes, there is an intelligent designer—it’s nature, operating through a process called natural selection. Traits that work best survive and get passed on, while those that don’t gradually disappear. It may seem simple in layman's terms, but the mechanisms behind it are deeply complex.

The Flaws in "Intelligent" Design

Let’s consider an alternative perspective. If we assume, as some believers do, that a divine creator designed humans perfectly, then we should expect flawless engineering. But reality tells a different story.

Take our sinuses, for example. If we were intelligently designed, why do our sinuses have drainage openings at the top, making it difficult for mucus to clear naturally? This poor design often leads to sinus congestion and infections—a rather inconvenient flaw for a supposedly perfect creation.

Similarly, childbirth could have been far less painful with a wider pelvis. Yet, evolution prioritized walking upright, which required a narrower pelvis for better balance and mobility. The trade-off? A more difficult and painful birthing process. If an intelligent designer had planned human anatomy, wouldn’t a more efficient solution have been in place?

But through the lens of evolution, these imperfections make sense. Our ancestors, who likely walked on four legs, had sinuses that drained effectively in that posture. As we evolved to walk upright, the positioning of our sinus openings became less ideal—but since it didn’t significantly impact survival, natural selection didn’t "fix" it. The same applies to our pelvis; a narrower structure allowed for improved bipedal movement, even if it came at the cost of more painful childbirth.

Not just these, but here are other examples of flawed design that have not significantly affected our survival, yet highlight evolution’s imperfect, trial-and-error process. The human spine, originally adapted for four-legged movement, struggles to support an upright posture, leading to chronic back pain and herniated discs—a clear sign of adaptation rather than intelligent design. Similarly, wisdom teeth were once useful for our ancestors with larger jaws, but as human skulls evolved, these extra molars became painful, impacted, and often require removal. Another example is the appendix, a vestigial organ that served a digestive purpose in our herbivorous ancestors but is now mostly useless, except when it becomes inflamed, leading to potentially life-threatening appendicitis. These biological leftovers exist not because they were "designed" but because they simply never posed enough of a survival threat to be eliminated by natural selection.

Evolution, Not Design

What we see in nature isn’t the work of a meticulous craftsman but a process of trial and error, where survival dictates success. The idea of an intelligent designer crumbles under the weight of our own biology. If humans were crafted by an all-knowing creator, why are we riddled with inefficient, flawed, and outright dangerous design choices? From sinuses that don’t drain properly, to a birth canal too small for easy childbirth, our bodies are a patchwork of evolutionary leftovers—not the work of a perfect engineer. Evolution doesn’t aim for perfection; it simply favors what works just well enough to survive. The flaws in our anatomy aren’t divine mistakes—they’re proof that nature, not a god, shaped us through trial and error. The truth isn’t comforting, but it’s undeniable: we weren’t designed—we evolved.