Truth and Science in Louisiana

What is Truth?  The question is as old as Pilate, and still as troublesome.

As anti-creationist activist Barbara Forrest notes in a perceptive article in the Louisiana Coalition for Science blog, anti-evolutionists in that state have made a telling error in their reading of mainstream science education.

In a struggle to impose a two-model evolution/creation curriculum in Central, Louisiana, creationists misquoted the Louisiana Department of Education’s (LDOE’s) 1997 Louisiana Science Framework (LSF).  In that framework document (see page 12), the LDOE offered a carefully worded articulation of the mainstream vision of the nature of science.  As Forrest notes, the LDOE explicitly demanded that true science should be taught “as a human enterprise and a continuing process for extending understanding, instead of the ultimate, unalterable truth.”

When creationists of the Louisiana Family Forum crafted their argument for teaching both creationism and evolution as science, they misrepresented this statement.  The Louisiana Family Forum’s proposed resolution contained the following assertion:

“WHEREAS, the Louisiana Science Content Standards at page 12 indicate that science should be ‘presented as a . . . [ellipsis in the LFF document] continuing process for extending understanding of the ultimate, unalterable truth’(7);”.

As Forrest points out, there is a world of difference between what the Louisiana standards demand and what the LFF said the standards demand.  Forrest notes that this slip could be due either to dishonesty or carelessness.  True enough.

But I think this mistake also tells us a great deal about the yawning chasm that separates the two sides’ understandings of the nature of education.

For science educators such as Barbara Forrest, the notion that a state standards document would define science education as a quest for “ultimate, unalterable truth” seemed immediately, obviously bizarre and suspicious.  That is simply not the way mainstream science educators talk.  Indeed, the paragraph from which that line came says a great deal about mainstream understandings about education.

Here is that paragraph in full:

“The purpose of science education is not for students to memorize the ‘right’ answer, but for them to move along a learning continuum toward a deeper understanding of science concepts and processes.  Current research indicates that it is best for understanding to be constructed actively by the learner.  This learning style offers a new role for the science teacher as a facilitator of learning versus an imparter of knowledge.  Instruction should minimize rote learning and focus on in-depth understanding of major concepts and topics, with students actively exploring those ideas through activities they can relate to their own lives.  Students often work cooperatively in small groups to exchange and critique their own ideas, with the teacher facilitating discussion rather than providing answers.  Science is presented as a human enterprise and a continuing process for extending understanding, instead of the ultimate, unalterable truth.”

Now THAT is the way mainstream education folks talk!  Note the emphasis on teacher as facilitator, the role of student as an active constructor of knowledge.  Note the emphasis on cooperative learning and the de-emphasis on the traditional delivery of information from teacher to student.

This is how many mainstream education researchers understand the process of learning and teaching.  This is NOT the way most conservatives and traditionalists understand education.  Though I don’t know the LFF and certainly can’t speak for them, many conservatives and educational traditionalists have a very different understanding of the nature of education.  For many conservatives, education—whether it’s about evolution, the American Revolution, or any other topic—is precisely about transmitting “ultimate, unalterable truths” from one generation to the next.

So whether the Louisiana Family Forum made a mistake in reading the Louisiana science standards or whether the LFF deliberately misrepresented those standards, the LFF ended up articulating a vision of education much closer to the understandings of most American conservatives.  Education, in the conservative view, must be about “ultimate, unalterable truth” in order to have any meaning at all.

 

 

Creation Colleges

Where did you go to school?  Did you learn about evolution?  WHAT did you learn about it?

Non-creationists like me are often dumbfounded by the notion that so many educated Americans believe in a young human species.  But a quick look at the large number of young-earth-creationist colleges shows us how easy it is to earn a college degree without leaving the intellectual boundaries of young-earth creationism.

As recent Gallup polls consistently demonstrate, almost half of American adults agree that humanity was formed in “pretty much its present form” within the past 10,000 years or so.  And of those young-earth creationist adults, the same proportion went to college as non-creationist adults.  That is, believers in a newish human species are just as likely to have a college degree as believers in a long history for the species.

As always, it’s vitally important for outsiders like me to recognize the many different sorts of creationist belief.  Young-earth creationism, the notion that the earth has only been in existence for about as long as is described in the Bible’s Book of Genesis, is only one version.  Intelligent design theorists, like those of the Discovery Institute, or evolutionary creationists, like those of Biologos, also oppose mainstream evolutionary science, but without insisting on a young earth.

And, to be fair, this Gallup question only asks about the age of the human species, not the age of the earth.

Nevertheless, the notion that such large percentages of educated Americans agree that humanity is so new, and so un-evolved, always makes me wonder what kind of education Americans are receiving.

The leading young-earth creationist organization Answers in Genesis provides a handy guide.  To be fair, the map of creationist colleges provided by AiG makes no claims to be an exhaustive guide to all creationist institutions of higher education.  Rather, this map only includes those schools whose presidents have signed AiG’s statement of faith.

A quick glance at the map shows how easy it will be for most college-bound young people to find a college that affirms young-earth beliefs.  Even in my neighborhood of sunny Binghamton, NY, two schools made the AiG map, Davis College and Baptist Bible College.

The sponsoring schools include such fundamentalist heavy-weights as Bob Jones UniversityLiberty University, and Pensacola Christian Colleges.  Other sponsors include smaller schools such as Jackson Hole Bible College and Ohio Christian University.

For those of us trying to understand creationism from the outside, this thriving culture of creationist higher education provides a crucial clue.  We can’t know what all the students, or even all the professors at these schools believe, but the schools themselves devote themselves to promulgating the notion of a young human earth and divine creation by fiat, as described in Genesis.

Persecution and the Conservative Academic

Do conservative academics suffer persecution?

NYU professor of history and education Jonathan Zimmerman recently called for affirmative action for conservative college professors, even though, Zimmerman insisted, such professors hadn’t suffered from historic discrimination.

That hit a nerve.

Writing in the higher-education blog Minding the Campus, a publication of the conservative Manhattan Institute, Ronald Radosh called foul.

Radosh took exception to Zimmerman’s insistence that liberal professors like himself were not the “wild-eyed Marxists” many conservative pundits had accused them of being.

Radosh disagreed.  “NYU,” Radosh wrote, “is most egregiously guilty of precisely such a bias. Their own history department is dominated by precisely those types, and some of the institutes and centers they have established have gone out of their way to make that crystal clear.”

Radosh complained that his career had suffered for purely political reasons.  At George Washington University, for instance, Radosh claimed that he had been subjected to questions mainly “about my politics, and not about my approach to history or how it should be taught.”  At another school, Radosh said he was buffeted in a job interview with a series of “hostile questions” about his views on Cold-War spies Ethel and Julius Rosenberg.

In the end, Radosh concluded that most history professors discriminate actively and self-consciously against conservative academics.  As Radosh wrote,

“The reason such professors will not hire conservatives is precisely because they do not want ‘other right-leading students’ to ‘follow them, into the academic profession,’ as Prof. Zimmerman hopes they will once conservative professors are hired. Does he really think people like Marilyn Young and Linda Gordon at NYU want anyone to challenge the ideological hegemony they now hold over molding students’ minds?”

Other sorts of conservative academics have long claimed to suffer from similar persecution.

The case of Teresa Wagner, for instance, still bubbles along.  Wagner had applied for jobs at the University of Iowa’s law school.  She was one of five finalists, but was passed over for the most desirable tenure-track job.  Was it due to prejudice against Wagner’s loud-and-proud conservative activism?  Wagner had made no secret of her pro-life and traditional-marriage stances.

One unique element of Wagner’s case was the existence of a smoking gun.  Unlike most hiring-discrimination cases, Wagner was able to produce a document that seemed to make her case.  Associate Dean John Carlson had written in an internal email, “Frankly, one thing that worries me is that some people may be opposed to Teresa serving in any role in part at least because they so despise her politics (and especially her activism about it). I hate to think that is the case, and I don’t actually think that, but I’m worried that I may be missing something.”

That email made Wagner’s case complicated.  A group of jurors agreed that Wagner had been treated unfairly.

These conservative claims of academic persecution are nothing new.

Creationist Jerry Bergman collected cases of such discrimination in his 1984 book The Criterion.  Bergman, who claimed to have been denied tenure at Bowling Green State University in the early 1980s due to his creationist beliefs, described the stories of academics such as Clifford Burdick.  Burdick was allegedly refused his PhD at the University of Arizona in 1960 for including a consideration of divine creation as an explanation for discrepancies in the fossil record.  Bergman argued that such attitudes had no place in a university setting.  Firing a creationist for speaking to students about his or her beliefs, Bergman argued, would be like “if a black were fired on the suspicion that he had ‘talked to students about being black,’ or a woman being fired for having ‘talked to students about women’s issues.’”

Even further back, anti-evolution leader T. T. Martin complained in 1923 that the universities had been taken over.  “We sent our young men to the great German universities,” Martin lamented, “and, when they came back, saturated with Evolution, we made them Presidents and head-professors of our colleges and great universities.”

Of course, the academic politics of evolution are much different than the politics of communism, which are different from the politics of abortion.  I think it is safe to say that a mainstream school will be more open about its discrimination against a creationist than against a neo-conservative anti-communist or a traditional-marriage supporting legal scholar.

However, Professor Zimmerman’s claim that conservatives have not been the subject of historic discrimination still rankles among conservative academics of various backgrounds.  One of the most closely treasured beliefs among conservative intellectuals, after all, is that American universities have been largely captured by a totalitarian and essentially anti-liberal left.

 

Strange Bedfellows: Creationists and the “Cults”

Here’s a stumper: Why do proudly orthodox Protestant young-earth creationists embrace non-orthodox writers?

If anyone were to be touchy about the theological bona fides of their friends, it would seem to be the YECs, the defiantly literalist readers of Genesis.

But for generations, creationists have enthusiastically promoted the work of anti-evolution writers from outside the world of conservative Protestantism.

These days, the best example is the work of Jonathan Wells.  Wells’ 2000 Icons of Evolution received an enthusiastic reception even among the fiercest and most combative young-earth creationists.

Wells has credentials to back up his frontal assault on the scientific establishment.  In addition to his PhD in theology from Yale, Wells earned a doctorate in molecular and cell biology from Berkeley.  He currently holds a fellowship at the intelligent-design mothership Discovery Institute.

It’s not surprising that the big-tent anti-evolutionists of the Discovery Institute would welcome Wells.  But it may come as a shock to see him embraced by the fiercer separatists at the young-earth Answers in Genesis.  Yet, in its review of Wells’ Icons, AiG only describes Wells as follows:

“Wells is a man with indisputable intellectual gifts who does not bow to intimidation. Having been opposed to serving with the American armed forces in Vietnam, he chose jail rather than compromise his convictions. He then went on to earn a Doctorate in Theology (Yale) and a second Doctorate in Molecular and Cell biology (Berkeley).”

Fair enough.  But conspicuously unmentioned is Wells’ leadership role in Rev. Moon’s Unification Church, the once-booming religion often called “the Moonies” by outsiders.

Wells himself makes no secret of his Unification belief.

At best, most conservative evangelical Protestants would likely agree that the Unification Church lies somewhere outside the borders of true Christianity.  One evangelical theologian defined the Unification Church as “a pseudo-Christian cult.”  Less prominent evangelical bloggers have called the Unification Church “the anti-Christ,” and a dangerous, greedy, opportunistic organization peddling “wacky theology.”

Most intriguing, this orthodox embrace of the non-orthodox is nothing new.

As I argued in my 1920s book, the first generation of Protestant fundamentalists eagerly snapped up the anti-evolution writings of authors from far outside the pale of acceptable theology.  Most prominently, early American fundamentalists read the work of Catholic authors such as Alfred McCann.  McCann’s God or Gorilla earned him an invitation from William Jennings Bryan to come to the 1925 Scopes Trial as an anti-evolution expert.

Though Bryan himself had a tetchy relationship with fundamentalism, Bryan saw no reason not to publicly embrace the Catholic McCann.  McCann, however, did not want to play along.  He told Bryan privately in June, 1925 that a big public trial would not solve the problem.  Likely, McCann did not feel comfortable on the side of the prosecution.  In that era, Protestant fundamentalists regularly denounced the Pope as the anti-Christ, and Catholicism as a deadly soul-crushing abomination.

For those like me outside the intellectual world of conservative religion, it might make perfect sense for anti-evolutionists to ally with anyone who fights evolutionary theory.  After all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

But when we get inside theological logic, such pragmatism is often denounced as moral compromise and sinful truckling.  Consider, for instance, Answers in Genesis’ recent denunciation of conservative Protestant leader Pat Robertson.  Over the course of his career, Robertson has proven himself to be a staunchly conservative, thoroughly dedicated evangelical Protestant.  Yet when he repudiated the notion of a young earth, the young-earth creationists pounced on him.  In the words of AiG pundit Tommy Mitchell, “It is compromisers like Robertson who actually lead our children astray.”  If creationists accept an ancient earth due to the mainstream scientific evidence, Mitchell asked,

“Why not adopt the views of the secular world about abortion, about marriage, about homosexual behavior, about premarital sex, about child-rearing, and about morality? After all, if the secular world is wise enough to tell us how to interpret our Bibles, it must be wise enough to guide us in other areas, too.”

To my mind, this is the puzzle: Among some young-earth creationists, a thoroughly heterodox Jonathan Wells can be lauded as an exemplar of correct thought.  But a deeply conservative Protestant leader like Robertson can be denounced as leading children into abortion and homosexuality by insisting that Biblical belief does not mandate belief in a young earth.

How are we outsiders to make sense of this?

The first obvious answer is not satisfying.  We might say that young-earth creationists care only about protecting their “brand,” the notion of a young earth.  Any evidence from any source that confirms this will be lauded; any argument from any source that denies it will be attacked.  To believe this, however, we would have to deny that young-earth creationists have a theological reason for insisting on a young earth.  We’d have to think that YECs don’t really care about the wider theological implications of an ancient earth.  That doesn’t fit the evidence.  Leading YECs often argue that only a young-earth allows for true orthodox belief.  Only a literal reading of Genesis, they insist, solves the problem of death before the introduction of sin into the world.  Only a literal reading of Genesis solves the problem of Jesus’ vouching for the veracity of the Genesis account.  The arguments for a young earth consistently point toward the promotion of orthodox Christian belief.  If we think that YECs don’t care about such broader issues of Biblical orthodoxy, we don’t really understand YEC belief.

The second obvious answer also does not work.  Some outsiders might glibly conclude that YECs don’t know about the non-orthodox nature of Jonathan Wells’ Unification Church.  Maybe some don’t, but leading YEC intellectuals are trained to sniff out heresy.  The notion that someone with a proud public history of leading the Unification Church might sneak past YEC heterodoxy detectors doesn’t make sense.

So what is it?  I don’t believe for a minute that many Protestant YECs accept the theological legitimacy of the Unification Church.  Nor do I find the notion of a conspiratorial political pragmatism among YEC leaders plausible.

So why is it okay to follow the Reverend Sun Myung Moon, but not the Reverend Pat Robertson?

 

 

CS Lewis: You Don’t Know Jack

WWAD: What Would Aslan Do?

A new essay series at the BioLogos Forum by Intervarsity Christian Fellowship NC State staffer David Williams insists on a more complex understanding of CS Lewis’ theology.

This essay series arose in part as a response to a new collection of essays about Lewis and science. As we’ve noted, editor John G. West of the intelligent-design-friendly Discovery Institute presented a portrait of an evolution-skeptical Lewis in The Magician’s Twin.

Williams argues for a more nuanced understanding of Lewis’ work. Williams gives us a CS Lewis–“Jack” to his friends—that might not be comfortable to many of Lewis’ new best friends in the American evangelical community. As Williams writes,
“Lewis is no safer a lion than Aslan, and he will not go quietly into our tidy evangelical boxes. To be frank, American Evangelicalism’s infatuation with Lewis is in many respects somewhat odd. For here is a pathologically populist movement with a penchant for Big Tent Revivalism, an obsession with liturgical innovation, a deep-seated suspicion of ecclesiastical tradition, and a raw nerve about the doctrine of justification, falling head-over-heels for a tweed-jacketed, Anglo-Catholic Oxford don—a curmudgeonly liturgical traditionalist who was fuzzy on the atonement, a believer in purgatory, and, as we shall see, whose views on Scripture, Genesis, and evolution position him well outside of American Evangelicalism’s standard theological paradigms. All of that is to say that Lewis was not ‘just like us’—any of us—and if we would do him justice, we must be prepared to be surprised by Jack.”

In the first essay of the series, Williams notes that Lewis was not as hostile to modern methods of Biblical criticism as many American evangelicals might like. And the Bible, Lewis felt, must be understood as a human product. For those evangelicals who insist on the theological centrality of a young-earth interpretation of Scripture, Williams offers this warning: For Lewis, “Apart from the Incarnation, then, much of the Old Testament would be but ‘myth,’ ‘ritual,’ and ‘legend.’”

For an evangelical movement that has clung tenaciously to its nineteenth-century hostility to much of this sort of Biblical criticism, Williams’ Lewis presents some challenges. Just as other heroes from outside of the evangelical tradition might make things intellectually difficult for their evangelical fans, so a fuller portrait of Lewis’ intellectual world might generate some healthy confusion.

Creationists: Sass Your Teachers?!?!

Apparently, that is the new strategy promoted by Indiana State Senator Dennis Kruse.

Sometimes, studying cultural battles over America’s schools seems like Yogi Berra’s déjà vu all over again.  But this one sounds new to me.

Thanks to the Sensuous Curmudgeon, we learn of Kruse’s new strategy.  Apparently, having failed to promote a two-models creation/evolution bill in the last legislative session, Kruse plans to offer a bill that will encourage students in Indiana’s schools to ask teachers to back up ideas with facts.

According to the Indianapolis Star, Kruse defended his plan as a “truth-in-education” measure:  “. . . if a student thinks something isn’t true, then they can question the teacher and the teacher would have to come up with some kind of research to support that what they are teaching is true or not true.”

Kruse’s new strategy comes on the heels of new rules in New Hampshire and Missouri that will allow every public school student to recuse himself or herself from curricular materials he or she finds objectionable.  As I’ve argued elsewhere, these laws just won’t work.  Ideology and theology and biology aside, the classroom implementation of such regulations seems utterly impossible.

As the Indianapolis Star reports, critics have pointed out similar flaws with Kruse’s plan.  Nate Schnellenberger, president of the Indiana State Teachers Association, argued that teachers could be asked to supply proof of everything, from evolution to the moon landing.  “It’s not workable,” Schnellenberger concluded.

The intention of such bills is clear: conservatives hope to protect students from indoctrination in ideas they find loathsome.  In Kruse’s case, he takes a weatherbeaten play from the old progressive playbook to make it happen.  If students can direct their own educations—challenging the classroom authority of their teachers on every point—then the chances of swallowing objectionable ideas decreases dramatically.

As in Missouri and New Hampshire, conservatives find themselves fighting for the old progressive dream: an individualized education for every child in public schools.  Will it work in Indiana?

 

 

Pat Robertson and an Ancient Earth

On a recent episode of the 700 Club, [to see the specific section, fast-forward to 56:43] host Pat Robertson warned a viewer that “If you fight science, you are going to lose your children, and I believe in telling them the way it was.”

Pat Robertson on The 700 Club

Pat Robertson on The 700 Club

This extraordinary statement from one of the America’s leading televangelists can teach us a lot about the nature of religious conservatism and education.

A viewer had asked what to do about her children who came to doubt the Bible due to scientific evidence.  Robertson told her that a young earth was not part of the Bible.  Children, he argued, should be taught the truth about the age of the earth.  Robertson prefaced his remarks about the age of the earth by noting that people would try to “lynch” him for saying it.

The truth, Robertson insisted, was as follows:

“You go back in time, you’ve got radiocarbon dating. You got all these things, and you’ve got the carcasses of dinosaurs frozen in time out in the Dakotas. . . .  They’re out there. So, there was a time when these giant reptiles were on the Earth, and it was before the time of the Bible. So, don’t try and cover it up and make like everything was 6,000 years. That’s not the Bible.” 

To be clear, Robertson said nothing about evolution, human or otherwise.  What he did endorse was the mainstream scientific understanding that the earth has been around for far longer than 6000 years.

What does this matter for those of us outsiders trying to understand “fundamentalism” in American education?

First, it demonstrates the complexity of religious conservatism.  Those progressives who insist on a unified, monolithic, even conspiratorial “Religious Right” in education misunderstand the profoundly fractious nature of conservative religion in America.

Robertson understands it.  As he noted, some folks will likely want to “lynch” him for acknowledging the validity of the scientific evidence for an ancient earth.  One response from the leading young-earth group Answers In Genesis ferociously condemned Robertson’s “compromise.”  First, AiG writer Tommy Mitchell argued, the evidence for a young earth does not come only from one theologian, as Robertson implied.  The Bible itself, Mitchell insisted, must be read as advocating a literal young earth.  The scientific mainstream is simply misleading, and when religious leaders endorse mainstream mistakes, it only leads more young people away from true religion.

Second, for those evolution educators who hope to improve science education, Robertson’s statement demonstrates that many devout Bible Christians are open to the central idea of an ancient earth.  Most mainstream scientists and science educators will agree that we do not know the real origin of life.  But we do know that the earth is more than 6000 years old.  Perhaps Robertson’s statement will allow science educators to think more strategically.  Instead of calling creationists ignoramuses and child abusers, those who hope to improve science education can refer creationists to devout Christians like Robertson who agree on the facts of an ancient earth.

Those Krazy Kids ‘n’ Their Young-Earth Creationism!

A fascinating recent column in Christianity Today can give us a couple of clues to help navigate our educational culture wars.

In her latest “Wrestling with Angels” column, the singer and author Carolyn Arends describes her recent heart-to-heart with her fourteen-year-old son, an ardent young-earth creationist.  No way, her son told her, would he ever want to go to the wrong university, where he would have to “sit in some biology class in a secular school and be told I descended from apes.”

Arends was surprised.  Though she admits she was a “keen young-earth creationist as a teenager,” she had come to agree that the world had been created through “evolutionary processes.”  With a reassuring evolution-friendly quotation from Billy Graham, circa 1964, her son was consoled.

“Maybe you’re not a total heretic,” he conceded.

Two things in this column jumped out at me.  First, it adds more fuel to my growing, but still uncomfortable conviction that the best way to teach evolution might be to push MORE religion in public schools, not less.

As Arends writes, “if I believed that the Bible truly asked me to reject the scientific consensus, it would be the end of the debate.”  Creationists like Arends and her son will not often embrace evolution due to the overwhelming scientific evidence alone.  But they will (or might) accept evolution if they can be convinced that they can accept that overwhelming evidence while being true to their faiths.  If “resistant” students—to borrow Lee Meadows’ term—can be convinced of the theological acceptability of evolution, then the scientific evidence will have much more success.

The second striking point about Arends’ column is its reminder that we Americans can live in parallel universes, where everything looks the same but all the meanings have reversed themselves.  I can’t imagine my daughter will ever go through a young-earth creationist “phase.”  But if we substitute the phrase “anarcho-syndicalism” or “joys of marijuana” for “young-earth creationism” then I can imagine a very similar scenario to Arends’.

As it is, for many Americans, a belief in young-earth creationism is a sensible, even logical conclusion.  Smart young people in Arends’ world may experiment with it the way I expect my daughter might experiment with funny hairdos or goth boyfriends.

 

 

Revisionaries and the Experts

Thanks to all who came to last night’s screening of The Revisionaries at Binghamton University.  Despite some technical glitches, the discussion ranged widely from the meanings of science to the purposes of public education.

One of the most intriguing elements of the film and of our discussion was its theme of “experts.”

That was certainly not the only reason to view this documentary.  It tells the story of the 2010 textbook requirement hearings at the Texas State Board of Education.  As the film describes, the influence of the Texas market in defining the nation’s choices in public school textbooks has long been decisive.

Conservatives such as Don McLeroy and Cynthia Dunbar battled with folks such as Eugenie Scott of the National Center for Science Education, Ron Wetherington of Southern Methodist University, and Kathy Miller of the Texas Freedom Network.

In the fight over the 2010 textbook requirements, conservatives insisted on a science framework in which textbooks would include creationist-friendly criticisms of evolutionary theory.  They also battled to revise history standards to emphasize the influence of conservative heroes such as Ronald Reagan and Phyllis Schlafly, and to underscore the meanings of the United States as a profoundly “Christian Nation.”

In all these battles, Don McLeroy insisted on a populist argument, one with a long and storied tradition among conservatives.  Dr. McLeroy repeated as a sort of motto, “I disagree with the experts.  Someone has to stand up to them.”  To McLeroy, this strategy applied equally well to the scientists who promoted evolutionary theory as it did to the politicians who had moved American culture to the “Far Left.”

The distrust of “experts” has long been a powerful motivator in American politics and culture, of course.  Within the universe of conservative evangelical Protestantism, it has both theological and political taproots.  As I note in my 1920s book, the role of experts played a similar role for the first generation of American fundamentalists.

But this distrust of experts has also often been taken too glibly at face value as a bald anti-intellectualism.  The distrust of experts, as seen by McLeroy’s foes in The Revisionaries, can be interpreted as a dunderheaded insistence that knowledge is a bad thing.

But McLeroy and other conservatives have a more complicated position.  In fact, McLeroy and his allies cherished the status of experts, even as they claimed to be fighting against them.  In the evolution hearings, for instance, conservatives brought in two eminent intelligent-design experts from Seattle’s Discovery Institute.  In his presentation to the board, Stephen C. Meyer prominently displayed his expert qualifications, including a PhD from Cambridge University.

Similarly, McLeroy’s close ally on the board represented the tradition of conservative evangelical expert.  Cynthia Dunbar teaches at Liberty University, a school founded by Jerry Falwell in 1971 precisely to raise new generations of fundamentalist experts.  And Dunbar wielded her expert club with ferocious abandon.  During the history hearings depicted in The Revisionaries, Dunbar attempted to silence her opponents by reminding them that she taught political philosophy “at the doctoral level.”

The Revisionaries is a must-see for anyone interested in issues of cultural contests in America’s schools.  For those out there like me who teach college classes in educational foundations or history, ask your library if they will purchase a copy for classroom use.

Beyond what I’ve described here, the film includes gems like the awkward conversation between evolutionary anthropologist Ron Wetherington and McLeroy.  The two are able to be congenial, but they aren’t able to do more than disagree with one another smilingly.

Most intriguing, the documentary demonstrates many of the complicated intellectual traditions of American conservatism, including not least McLeroy’s insistence that he plans to combat the intrusions of experts, even as he relies on his own experts to make his points.

 

 

Revisionaries Screening Tonight

For all those in the Upstate New York region: a reminder that we will be screening Scott Thurman’s documentary The Revisionaries tonight on the campus of Binghamton University in Vestal, NY.

The film will be shown (with brief informal discussion led by yours truly) in Academic Building A, basement room G-008.  We will begin at 5:00.

All are welcome.  There is no cost and no need to register.