Oh, Horror! Stephen King Plumps for Intelligent Design

Promoting his new book, Stephen King told NPR’s Terry Gross that intelligent design is the only thing that makes sense.  Not only that, but King promoted a particularly religious interpretation.

I choose to believe it. … I mean, there’s no downside to that. If you say, ‘Well, OK, I don’t believe in God. There’s no evidence of God,’ then you’re missing the stars in the sky and you’re missing the sunrises and sunsets and you’re missing the fact that bees pollinate all these crops and keep us alive and the way that everything seems to work together. Everything is sort of built in a way that to me suggests intelligent design. But, at the same time, there’s a lot of things in life where you say to yourself, ‘Well, if this is God’s plan, it’s very peculiar,’ and you have to wonder about that guy’s personality — the big guy’s personality. And the thing is — I may have told you last time that I believe in God — what I’m saying now is I choose to believe in God, but I have serious doubts and I refuse to be pinned down to something that I said 10 or 12 years ago. I’m totally inconsistent.

Eric Hedin and the Care and Feeding of Young Scientists

Scientists aren’t necessarily stupid.  Yet, as we’ve seen, some academic scientists demonstrate a curious ignorance or even proud self-delusion about important aspects of science and culture.

Perhaps the continuing kerfuffle over Professor Eric Hedin and Ball State University can shed some light on this puzzle.

The case began, it appears, with complaints by University of Chicago scientist and science activist Jerry Coyne.  Coyne complained that the teaching of Eric Hedin at Ball State University represented the indoctrination of students by a religious zealot. Professor Hedin taught a course cross-listed as “The Boundaries of Science” or “Inquiries in the Physical Sciences.”  True enough, Hedin’s reading list leaned heavily on old-earth creationism and intelligent design.  Worst of all, Professor Coyne argued, Hedin’s course proselytized for a specific sort of Christianity and called it science.  The university and department reluctantly agreed to investigate Hedin’s teaching.

Professor Coyne hoped the university would pressure Professor Hedin to stop his preaching.

Other leading science bloggers disagreed.  PZ Myers argued that Hedin’s teaching, though lamentable, must be allowed as an issue of academic freedom.  “If we’re going to start firing professors who teach things that are wrong,” Myers insisted, “we’re all going to be vulnerable.”

The debate between these science activists on the boundaries of acceptable university teaching might help us understand why so many scientists are so strangely unaware of the cultural context of their work.  Neither Professor Coyne nor Professor Myers seems to think that Professor’s Hedin course might actually be of value to the scientists-in-training at Ball State.  Myers defends the classes as a protection of Hedin’s rights, not the protection of student interests.

Is it not possible that such intellectual diversity could be a positive good?

In issues of race, the US Supreme Court has ruled that diversity is a legitimate goal of university admissions.  Racial diversity, in other words, is not only good for members of racial minority groups.  Diversity is good for everybody who wants to learn.

Does not the same principle apply here?

Of course, we would want to avoid the absurd extension of this principle.  We would not want to teach people things that were obviously not true only to give students some sort of intellectual workout.  But the ideas taught by Hedin are not the ravings of some isolated madman.  Rather, they represent an influential and important tradition in our culture.  Though these ideas do not qualify as representatives of mainstream science, they are nevertheless ideas about science.  Scientists should know about them.

Raising young scientists in an ideological or cultural hothouse produces fragile flowers.  It helps explain why so many smart people emerge from this training so remarkably dumb about important ideas.

If we looked into this question as one of encouraging intellectual diversity, we could shift the debate in useful ways.  Everyone can agree that students can benefit by being exposed to a diversity of ideas.  The question becomes, then, at what level and in what format should students learn about heterodox ideas?  What courses should count as requirements, and what courses should be elective?  Most important, where are the boundaries of acceptable diversity?  These are questions with which university faculties have long experience.

In my field, for instance, it would not make sense for introductory courses in American history to teach only a Marxist interpretation of the past.  Students from all sorts of fields take those introductory courses.  For many students, such a course may be their only collegiate exposure to American history.  It would not make sense for those students to learn that history is the unfolding of the class struggle.  But for history majors, students will benefit from having one or more advanced courses taught about specific interpretive traditions, whether or not the instructor is a Marxist.   Even though I do not think a Marxist interpretation is the best approach, I support the inclusion of such courses in university programs.  Not only to defend the teaching rights of professors, but more importantly, to ensure students experience a true diversity of intellectual approaches.

In the case from Ball State, it does not seem as if Professor Hedin’s religion-heavy course should be the ONLY exposure students have to science.  Nor should this course be taught as an introduction to science as a whole. But students who take a full course load of science classes could certainly benefit from considering such ideas.  Even if taught by an instructor who embraces the theological implications.  Other courses might study other aspects of science, and might usefully be taught by professors with strong intellectual commitments to a particular worldview.

Making the debate a question of when and how students encounter intellectual diversity is not as exciting as debating if religious ideas can be taught as science.  It is not as exciting as arguing whether professors have the academic freedom to teach heterodox ideas.  But it seems to me the most productive way to discuss Professor Hedin’s case.

 

 

In the News: Scott Retiring

The National Center for Science Education has announced the retirement of Executive Director Eugenie Scott.

Scott has long been one of the most prominent voices against creationism and intelligent design.  Her books and public appearances consistently articulated a bold anti-creationism without, IMHO, attacking religion itself or religious people.  In the angry world of creation/evolution controversy, that has been a significant accomplishment.

We will be watching carefully to see who NCSE picks to replace her.   If you’re interested in the job, check out the job posting.

Pennsylvania Science Teachers Teach Creationism as Science

Pennsylvania science teachers teach creationism.  It really should come as no surprise, since that is the case for science teachers in public schools across the country.  But every new batch of data offers some new insight.

Thanks to the ever-vigilant Sensuous Curmudgeon, we see a new survey from the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette.  It doesn’t contain any mind-blowingly unexpected results, but the facts on the ground in the evolution/creation/intelligent design controversy are always mind blowing.

This survey collected results from 106 science teachers from the Keystone State.  The responses show us once again that there is no bright line between science and religion in many public-school classrooms.  For instance, while 90% of teachers said they believe in evolution, 19% listed creationism as their belief, while 13% claimed to believe in intelligent design.  Unfortunately, the survey did not require respondents to define what they meant by any of these terms.

But even with these results, we see that for many science teachers, it is entirely possible to claim both creationism and evolution as beliefs.  Teachers could choose more than one label, and many did.

As we might expect, teachers’ beliefs seem to carry over into their classroom practice.  One teacher claimed to spend five class periods teaching evolution and one class teaching creationism.

Another accused the newspaper of conducting a witch hunt to identify and persecute Biblical Christians.

One teacher warned his students against tools such as radiocarbon dating, since they contradicted the Bible.

In each of these cases, teachers insisted their school administrators approved of their classroom practice.

Most intriguing, one anonymous teacher—the one who taught one creationism class among five classes about evolution—confirmed the findings of political scientists Michael Berkman and Eric Plutzer.  Though Berkman and Plutzer hail from Penn State, they collected data from across the nation.  “Many teachers’ individual values,” they concluded, “match up well with those of the district in which they teach” (30).  Stricter state standards and certification rules, Berkman and Plutzer argued, will not make a decisive impact.  Instead, teachers tend to teach the ideas and values of their local communities.

This teacher agreed.  “Most parents and officials,” this teacher from Indiana County—just west of Pittsburgh—reported, “do not want evolution ‘crammed’ into their children.  They have serious philosophical/religious issues with public schools dictating to their students how to interpret the origins of life.”

For those like me who want to see more and better evolution education in public schools, this survey confirms the difficulty of the task.  Just as schools cannot be charged with solving poverty, so school science cannot fairly be asked to change our culture’s beliefs.  In the case of evolution, creation, and intelligent design, those beliefs are far different from what mainstream scientists might like to see.  Instead of locating the problem in science classrooms, we need to understand the true dimensions of this controversy.

 

Can a Public University Teach Religion as Science?

Jerry Coyne says no.  The prominent scientist and atheist brought our attention yesterday to a course being taught at Ball State University.  This course, Coyne complains, pretends to teach science, but fills students’ heads with religious notions.

Professor Coyne makes a strong case.  But it just doesn’t hold water.

Coyne insists such a course would be acceptable at a public university if it focused on the history of science and religion, or the relationship between science and religion.  But Coyne’s beef is with the fact that the course is being taught as a science course, for science credit.

Coyne demonstrates convincingly that the course is indeed infused with religious thought.

The professor, Eric Hedin, has often introduced his Christian faith into his teaching, at least according to some “Rate my professor” quotations that Coyne cites.

The reading list includes books by intelligent-design thinkers Stephen Meyer and Michael Behe.  It also asks students to read the religious/scientific work of Francis Collins and old-earth creationist Hugh Ross.  As Coyne argues, it does not include any of the leading works from the other side of this continuing controversy.

As Coyne wrote to the chair of the Ball State Physics Department,

As as [sic] scientist, I find this deeply disturbing. It’s not only religion served under the guise of science, but appears to violate the First Amendement [sic] of the Constitution. You are a public university and therefore cannot teach religion in a science class, as this class appears to do.  Clearly, Dr. Hedin is religious and foisting this on his students, and I have seen complaints about students being short-change[d] [‘d’ added in original] by being fed religion in a science course.

Coyne’s got it wrong.  First of all, a university is not the same as a K-12 public school.  Students are not forced to take this class.  This is one course from a galaxy of courses available to Ball State students.  Plus, the public funding of a public university is far different than that of K-12 schools.  According to Ball State, in 2011 the state paid for under half of operating expenses—just over $5,500 out of a total cost of $13,579 per student.

Second, and more important, a good university—public, private, whatever—should expose its students to a variety of ideas, presented by both believers and skeptics.  The University of Colorado at Boulder, for instance, attracted a good deal of attention lately for hiring Steven Hayward to fill its visiting chair in Conservative Thought and Policy.  The university’s goal was precisely to introduce a richer diversity of ideas on its campus.

In Colorado, the university and state went to considerable expense to encourage this sort of intellectual variety.  Ball State students are getting this sort of university exposure to new ideas and perspectives in-house.

Professor Coyne objects that this course is being taught as science.  And his objection has merit.  The definition of science, after all, has been a key issue in the legal battles over the teaching of creationism in public schools.

However, in order for scientists and students of science to be truly educated, they must be exposed to a true diversity of ideas.  Professor Hedin teaching his courses as part of a Ball State education is a very different thing than a religious group taking over a public education system.  Indeed, as I’ve argued elsewhere, scientists’ ignorance about creationism encourages more radical creationism.  If we want to reduce creationism’s cultural impact, we should help scientists learn more about its foundational ideas, not less.

Hedin is offering students a different way to see the world.  That kind of course should be part of every university education, in whatever department it falls.

 

Evolution for Christians

How are evangelical Christians supposed to understand evolution?  This morning at BioLogos, evangelical scientist Dennis Venema begins a series that hopes to explain why evolutionary ideas do not conflict with a Bible-based evangelical faith.

One of the trickiest aspects of understanding American creationism is that there are potentially as many “creationisms” as there are creationists.  Many outsiders like me tend to use the term “creationist” as a catch-all term, when in fact the differences among and between types of creationism are perhaps the key to bridging many of our evolution-creation culture-war divides.

Some “creationists,” for instance, embrace the young-earth creationism promulgated by organizations such Answers in Genesis or the Institute for Creation Research.

Others might find an old-earth version more compelling, one such as that defended by Hugh Ross and Reasons to Believe.

Yet others might prefer the big-tent creationism of the intelligent-design movement, promoted most assiduously by the Discovery Institute.

Still others might prefer the sort on offer by Dennis Venema in this series.  BioLogos calls its brand of creationism “evolutionary creationism.”  In general, BioLogos’ creationism embraces the tenets of evolutionary science.  Such evolution, many evolutionary creationists insist, is simply God’s method of creation.
I’m looking forward to following Venema’s series.  Venema describes it this way:

“The goal of this course is straightforward: to provide evangelical Christians with a step-by-step introduction to the science of evolutionary biology. This will provide benefits beyond just the joy of learning more about God’s wonderful creation. An understanding of the basic science of evolution is of great benefit for reflecting on its theological implications, since this reflection can then be done from a scientifically-informed perspective. From time to time we might comment briefly on some issues of theological interest (and suggest resources for those looking to explore those issues further), but for the most part, we’re going to focus on the science.”     

 

Election Coverage: Evolution Skeptic Wins Seat on Texas State School Board

Education-watchers have long focused on the politics of education in the Lone Star State.  From The Revisionaries to Rod Paige’s skewed statistics, Texas education often serves as a harbinger of education trends nationwide.

Nowhere is this more true than in the touchy issues of education culture wars.

Yesterday’s election put one more conservative voice on Texas’ 15-member State Board of Education.

Marty Fowler of Amarillo won a resounding victory over Steven Schafersman.  The politics of the two candidates demonstrate what Texas voters in district 15 want out of their public schools.

Schafersman went down to defeat with his pro-mainstream science, pro-sex ed platform.  According to mywesttexas.com, Schafersman, “a practicing scientist in the petroleum industry with 23 years of college  teaching experience, said he ran for the board because he wants students to have  unbiased, factual and scientific textbooks and increase[d] knowledge about  contraception.”

Schafersman won a measly 20% of the vote with these positions.  Earlier this year, Fowler explained his support for teaching multiple scientific approaches–intelligent design along with evolution–in Texas’ public schools.  As Fowler put it in an interview with an Amarillo newspaper:

“Evolutionists would say that we progressed to this point through a series of unplanned, random circumstances and random events.  I don’t believe that tells the whole story. I think there is more to our creation that indicates an intelligent being that has played a significant role.”

Beyond the issue of evolution/creation, Rowley won support as the more consistently conservative candidate, with opinions on issues from standardized testing to vocational education that more closely matched the conservative district.

As fence-sitting observers like me have pointed out, this is the real crux of the issue in educational culture wars.  Schools prohibit sex ed and teach creationism not because teachers are ignorant, not because administrators are prudes, but rather because those educational policies are often the clear mandate from large electoral majorities.

Much as it pains me to admit it, Marty Rowley would be acting in an irresponsible fashion if he did not go to work to promote multiple scientific theories in Texas textbooks and schools.  That, after all, is what the voters seem to be demanding.

CS Lewis on Science and Evolution

Did Aslan evolve?

Aslan and friends. Image source: WikiNarnia

Not according to a new book about Narnia-creator C.S. Lewis’ philosophy of science. Editor John G. West pulled together a fascinating collection of essays in The Magician’s Twin: C.S. Lewis on Science, Scientism, and Society.

The Discovery Institute’s West hopes to claim Lewis’ legacy for the intelligent design movement; the essays argue that Lewis was profoundly skeptical of what Lewis called “error scientism.”

As evolution skeptic Tom Bethell notes in a review for American Spectator, some evolutionists have claimed Lewis as an ally. But the authors in The Magician’s Twin paint a very different portrait. Among Lewis’ intellectual protests against evolutionary thinking, Bethell argues, was a deeply held concern with Darwin’s naive progressivism.  A nineteenth-century optimism about humanity’s natural tendency to improve, Lewis believed, had been thoroughly discredited by both Christianity’s vision of original sin and the twentieth century’s horrors.

Intelligent design advocate Michael Flannery agrees that this collection of essays captures Lewis’ deep anxiety about the cosmological claims of naive evolutionism.  In a long review for Evolution News and Views, Flannery extols the essays for recognizing Lewis’ appreciation for medieval thought, Lewis’ denunciation of the plausibility of natural selection as an evolutionary mechanism, and Lewis’ worry about the anti-human and anti-Christian implications of evolutionary thinking.

C.S. Lewis remains one of the most popular Christian authors for Christian and non-Christian audiences alike.  His Screwtape Letters , not to mention his wildly popular Narnia books, keep Lewis a household name in all kinds of households.  Claiming Lewis’ legacy for the intelligent design movement would be a major coup for West and his co-authors.

For those of us trying to understand cultural conflicts over education, these essays offer key insight into the intellectual depth and range of the intelligent design movement.  Especially for those evolutionists who dismiss intelligent design as simply “Ken Ham warmed over,” this collection of essays will illuminate the very different tone, style, and intellectual ethos of the movement.

Intelligent Design Defended

Who’s afraid of irreducible complexity?  As followers of the evolution/creation controversy are aware, the intelligent-design court case that won the most public attention was Kitzmiller v. Dover in 2005.  In that case, school board members introduced the intelligent-design textbook Of Pandas and People into the curriculum of the school district of Dover, Pennsylvania.  They required ninth-grade biology teachers to read a statement that evolution was only one way to understand the origins of life.  In the end, Federal Judge John Jones ruled against the use of intelligent-design materials in public schools, deciding in line with US Supreme Court precedent that if such curricular materials did not have a primarily secular purpose, they could not be used in public schools.

In a recent review of two new books defending the scientific legitimacy of intelligent design–or at least the scientific problems with neo-Darwinism–Howard Kainz of Marquette University celebrates the fact that even atheists can find holes in neo-Darwinism.  Are such books good news for religious anti-evolutionists?  Kainz seems to think so, but I believe the case is much more complicated.

First of all, the US Supreme Court and Judge Jones have not insisted that scientific arguments against evolution are not proper for public schools.  Rather, the “Lemon test” coming out of the Supreme Court’s 1971 ruling in Lemon v. Kurtzman stipulated three rules for testing the acceptability of public aid to religion in schools.  First, the government action must have a secular purpose.  It must not primarily advance or inhibit religion.  And it must not result in “excessive government entanglement” with religion.

The reason Dover’s intelligent-design curriculum did not pass the Lemon test was not because no scientists questioned the validity of the neo-Darwinist explanation of the origins of life.  Rather, the Dover curriculum was easily proven to be a strategic way for religious creationists to repackage their message in a way they thought might be more palatable to public schools.  The authors of the textbook at issue, for instance, Dean Kenyon and Percival Davis, left a paper trail in their various editions.  In earlier editions, the Biblical source of the authors’ ideas is far more prominent.  In reaction to the Supreme Court’s ruling in Edwards v. Aguillard (1987), the authors and their publisher consciously and explicitly toned down religious references to produce a cleaner, less explicitly religious textbook.  The same thing was true of the Dover school board members who introduced intelligent design into Dover schools.  It was not difficult for a reasonable observer to conclude that their motivations were primarily religious.  They hoped to advance religion, not to advance scientific understanding of the complexities of evolutionary theory among Dover’s ninth-graders.

The fact that “atheist” writers can find fault with neo-Darwinism, or that atheists can appreciate the notion of intelligent design, would not have had any impact in the Dover case.  Instead, a case will need to come before a federal court in which mainstream scientists themselves insist that the modern evolutionary synthesis must be taught as one explanation among others.

The second reason why books like these ought not be taken as a victory for religious anti-evolutionists is because they prove that the strongest critics of neo-Darwinism are not Bible believing creationists but rather mainstream scientists themselves.  As I’ve argued in other posts (see my anti-evolution imagined arguments against mainstream scientists’ “closedmindness” here and here; and my pro-evolution rejoinder here), creationists sometimes claim that the only reason they are not listened to by mainstream science is because of a vast evolutionist conspiracy.  If mainstream scientists only considered the weaknesses of the modern evolutionary synthesis, they insist, they would agree that neo-Darwinism can’t hold water.

But books like these demonstrate the fallacy of such notions.  The harshest critics of evolution are often evolutionists themselves.  Instead of asserting an intellectual totalitarianism to block all criticism of evolution, evolutionists are the most pressing critics of their own beliefs.  Their intellectual training pushes them to question all preconceived notions, even their own.

 

Anti-Evolution IIa: Closedmindedness (continued…)

ANTI-EVOLUTION II (a): CLOSEDMINDEDNESS (cont.)

Plus, even the commonly held notion that “all” scientists believe in evolution doesn’t hold up. Look closely the next time you hear that argument.  Notice that much of the evidence given is not about the science itself, but about the credentials of the scientist.  A scientist is supposedly closer to the truth the more accolades he or she has received.  Thus, you may see a letter supporting more evolution education in schools, signed by seventy-five Nobel Prize winners.  Signed by leading professors at Stanford, MIT, Harvard, Michigan.  But notice the circularity of that measure.  Those accolades come from within the dominant scientific paradigm.  By definition, such prizes and honors represent not some objective truth, but rather the opinion of other scientists that someone has done something praiseworthy.

The next time you hear that all scientists believe evolution, try sampling from the list below:

  • Fred Hoyle: Hoyle has suggested that current thinking about materialistic evolution is a crock.  Most memorably, he has suggested that the
    chances of life on earth developing on its own was about as likely as the chances that a hurricane blowing through a junkyard would assemble a Boeing jetliner.  In other words, life on earth is entirely too complex to have simply happened.  It needs some source, some cause.  In Hoyle’s case, this is not an argument based on a previous intellectual commitment to the Bible.  In fact, Hoyle’s preferred explanation for the origins of life are not from divine intervention but rather through the seeding of this planet by interstellar viruses containing the basic forms of life.  And even by the standards of mainstream science, Hoyle’s credentials are hard to ignore.  He is often credited, for instance, with coining the term “Big Bang,” although he did not accept the notion himself.  He did not win a Nobel Prize
    himself, although many people think he was unfairly denied one in 1983 despite his contributions to the project that won.
  • Chandra Wickramasinghe: Wickramasinghe was a student of Hoyle, and collaborated with him.  Like Hoyle, Wickramasinghe’s  mainstream scientific credentials are hard to ignore.  He has published dozens of articles, for instance, in the journal Nature.  He holds a professorship at Cardiff University and was the youngest person ever to receive such a professorship.  Like Hoyle, Wickramasinghe is not a biblical Christian.  He does not try to disprove the notion of materialistic evolution out of a commitment to religious ideas.  He is
    simply an innovative scientist able to rest on his credentials enough to publicly doubt the orthodoxy of evolution.  His unorthodox ideas have occasionally cost him funding.  Nevertheless, he has continued to study the idea that life on earth developed from cosmic dust, rather than simply springing into existence on its own.
  • Michael Behe: Behe is a biochemist.  He has argued that some organic functions, such as the mechanism for blood clotting, demonstrate what Behe calls an “irreducible complexity.”  Such complexity cannot have been evolved by a random process, since the entire mechanism needs to have developed all at the same time in order to offer any evolutionary benefit.  In other words, the evolutionary idea that some mutations offer a selective advantage to some individuals of a species, and that those advantages can lead to new species, does not account for some of the complex organic mechanisms.  It would do a simple species no good, in other words, to mutate one part of the blood-clotting mechanism.  It would have to mutate all the parts of it at once in order to derive any evolutionary benefit.

Evolutionists will point to the shortness of this list as evidence that such ideas are the realm of the kook, the crank.  But a balloon only needs a tiny pinhole to explode.  If even a few scientists doubt the evolutionary orthodoxy, that is enough to explode the myth that all scientists agree on the idea.  It is enough to demonstrate that scientific experts, even one expert, can evaluate the scientific evidence and find compelling alternative explanations.  The fact that the great majority of working scientists agree with the idea that life evolved on its own does not prove that it is true.  Before Einstein, the vast majority of working scientists did not understand the theory of relativity.  That does not mean that relativity was not true.  It simply means that most scientists were not able to come up with that idea on their own.  They were trained in other ideas and they  conducted all their research based on the ideas in which they were trained.  The vast majority of scientists at one time worked with the  assumption that phlogiston explained combustibility.  The vast majority also assumed at one time that human races were linked in a hierarchical chain with sub-Saharan Africans at the bottom and Nordic Europeans at the top.  Such orthodoxies are not convincing simply because they can conjure up large majorities of scientists.  Such majorities are, rather, just result of such ideological dominance.  They demonstrate nothing about the fundamental truth of evolution or any other scientific idea.

Even Darwin, in a famous closing passage to his 1859 Origin of Species, invoked the notion of a Creator as the ultimate source of life.  “There is grandeur in this view of life . . . having been originally breathed by the Creator into a few forms or into one.”  But wait, you might say, Darwin said that to soften the blow of his controversial book.  As he delved further into the idea, he largely discarded the notion that any Creator had been involved in any way, even to initially breathe life into the evolutionary process.  Such notions only got in the way of his understanding of life.  But look at it from a different angle.  When Darwin started, he was open to the idea of a creator.  As he explored the idea of organic evolution, it only made sense if he eliminated the creator part.  That is, once he decided there was no creator, he realized he didn’t need a creator.  Circular logic.  Not due to evidence, but due to preliminary assumptions about the evidence.  You can do the same thing in reverse.  Assume a young earth.  It will lead you to conclude that such a thing is not possible without a supernatural creator.  Also circular?  Yes.  But it is better, more scientific, to leave all the options on the table.  To examine evidence without first presuming that there are or are not supernatural causes.  Science should mean open minded inquiry, not materialistic inquiry.  If you include that possibility, nine times out of ten the best explanation for life on earth is not due to chance but to design.

When Galileo agreed to recant his support for a heliocentric earth, according to legend, he did so only with an ideological wink.  “E pur si muove,” he allegedly said, “It still moves.”  In other words, in the origins of the modern scientific project, Galileo asserted that whatever humans might say about the physical universe, that universe went on heedlessly.  It didn’t matter, to Galileo, whether or not he recanted his statement, the earth still rotated around the sun.  It seems that Galileo’s position is the one of ultimate faith: It doesn’t matter what I say or do, the truth of my position
is larger than my own being.

The fact that Galileo’s would-be successors in the modern scientific establishment can no longer muster his sense of calm confidence is revealing.  If scientists today really were as confident in their evolutionary ideology as they purport to be, they would not be as insistent that all scientists agree with their position.  In other words, if the notion that life evolved in all its forms without a guiding intelligence really had the same
intellectual weight as the notion of a heliocentric solar system, scientists should be able to muster Galileo’s calm notion that “It still moves.”  They ought to be able to allow other ideas to be considered, knowing that theirs was the truth.

But they can’t.
Mainstream scientists today enforce a rigid evolutionary ideology.  The ideological—as opposed to truly scientific—roots of this kind of closedmindedness become evident in those few cases when scholars have attempted to present alternative ideas in academic settings.  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 University in the early 1980s due to his creationist beliefs, describes 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.’” In a similar case, Dean Kenyon was reprimanded by his
institution for his work with the notion of intelligent design.  Kenyon had co-authored one of the most influential textbook supplements in the intelligent-design field, Of Pandas and People.  In 1992, his school, San Francisco State University, ordered him to cease teaching scientific creationism as part of his biology classes.  Kenyon had been teaching such ideas as part of his curriculum.  He had been teaching evolutionary ideas as well, but had included other notions about the origins of life.  Such open-mindedness was anathema to the administration of the purportedly open-minded university.  To be fair, the rest of the faculty voted to allow Kenyon to keep teaching such ideas, as part of their right to academic freedom.  But the sentiment in favor of muzzling such ideas was significant.

Similarly, intelligent-design advocate Michael Behe’s university department felt forced to publish a disclaimer of Behe’s work that strayed beyond mainstream orthodoxy.  In embarrassment, apparently, that one of its faculty members could question the reigning scientific ideology, his academic department felt obliged to post the following disclaimer on its website: “The department faculty . . . are unequivocal in their support of evolutionary
theory. . . . Behe’s . . . views . . . are his alone and are in no way endorsed by the department.”  Why is this sort of statement necessary?  Because evolution’s dominance of mainstream science is maintained through social, not scientific, rigidity and control.

However, there is a heavy price to be paid for such control.  Such attitudes not only enforce
the evolutionary orthodoxy, they also demonstrate its fundamental intellectual weakness.  When scientists feel they must resort to such heavy-handed ideological enforcement, it is evidence that their emperor really has no clothes.

 

ANTI EVOLUTION IIa: FURTHER READING

Michael J. Behe, Darwin’s Black Box: The Biochemical Challenge to Evolution, 2nd edition (New York: Free Press, 2006); Dean Kenyon and Percival Davis, Of Pandas and People: The Central Question of Biological Origins, 2nd edition (Haughton, 1993); Fred Hoyle and Chandra Wickramasinghe, Evolution from Space: A Theory of Cosmic Creationism (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1984).