From the Dust: Evolution? Yes! Creation? Yes, Please!

Is there a stark divide between creationists and evolutionists?  Not always.  But staking out a middle ground can be dangerous.

The Biologos Foundation insists that Christian belief and evolutionary science go hand in hand.

To help make their case for evolutionary creationism, Biologos recently released a film, From the DustSnippets are available for preview.

For old hands of the creation-evolution debates, there isn’t much new here.  But for those who see the debate as one of religion versus science, this film offers ideas that may seem surprising.

Filmmaker Ryan Pettey explains his goals:

we wanted to put something proactive on the table that could help motivate an elevated conversation about the “war” between science and faith. It was our goal to help Christians see (and accept) the complexity of the issues raised by modern science, as well as help them to courageously engage with the theological conversations happening within the sphere of Christian culture today.

As Biologos founder Darrel Falk explains in the film’s introductory segment,

If people think because of scientific evidence, ‘my Christian faith doesn’t stake up anymore’—that day needs to end. All of the richness in life that I know is because of my relationship with God, and so I don’t want people to miss out on that. I don’t want people abandoning the faith because they find out that evolution is really real. It is God’s truth. So here we have this segment, this all-important segment of God’s people, who are out of touch with God’s reality. I mean, it is God’s universe! This natural world is God’s creation—and so the people, who especially need to be in touch with God’s reality, are off in a corner.

Is there a war between Biblical Christianity and evolutionary theory?  Not according to the Biologos Foundation.  Will this message be successful?  Hard to say.  After all, the most dangerous place to be in any trench war is No Man’s Land.  Sure enough, Biologos has earned the enmity of both sides.

Ken Ham of the leading young-earth creationist ministry Answers In Genesis has warned that Biologos is part of the “epidemic” of pernicious doubt.

Jerry Coyne, perhaps the leading American exponent of science atheism, has lamented Biologos’ truckling to religious “fairy stories” and criticized their “duplicitous” strategy.

For many creationists, however, the message of Biologos seems welcome.  The ability to accept the truths of modern science without abandoning one’s faith comes as a blessing.  It might also offer a lesson to those who hope to spread evolutionary science among America’s deeply skeptical public.

 

Easy but Painful: Converting to Atheism

What would it mean for religious people to abandon their faith?

Yesterday we saw an example of this process from Jerry Coyne’s blog Why Evolution Is True.

As “Matthew” describes, leaving his conservative Christian faith was not very difficult.  But it was painful.  And it can teach us some important lessons about conservatism and education.

First, Matthew’s story confirms the fears of many young-earth creationist activists.  Folks at organizations such as Answers In Genesis and the Insitute for Creation Research have long argued that learning about evolution can (or will) lead to atheism.  According to Matthew, that was exactly his experience.  For Matthew, evolution was a “gateway” idea for rejecting Chrisitianity in toto.  For young-earth creationists, this must come as proof of long-held fears.  For evolution educators, this must demonstrate that young-earth creationists have a point when they lament the atheistic implications of evolutionary theory.

Also, Matthew’s story shows how difficult it will be to improve evolution education in the United States.  For many resistant students, as sensitive science-ed types such as Lee Meadows and David Long have pointed out, evolution is not just one idea among many.  Evolution is word that provokes profound cultural, psychological, theological, and even existential anxiety among some students.  As Matthew’s story demonstrates, only when a student from this background actively seeks an alternative way of understanding the world can such evolutionary theory take hold.

Finally, though, Matthew’s story shows how important evolution outreach efforts are.  Matthew started his odyssey away from conservative religion by browsing internet sites and podcasts.  The educational work of organizations such as the National Center for Science Education has been a leading source for such evolution content online.  Matthew’s story shows how important that work can be, even if it must seem frustrating at times.

 

Science, Schools, and Scientism

School science is different from research science.

Duh.

But this obvious truth seems out of the grasp of some commentators on the creation/evolution controversies.

Here’s what I mean:

School science is not simply science that goes on in schools.  School science is, like all school subjects, inextricably bound up in the necessarily complex process of formal education.  As such, it is inseparable from questions of morality, authority, sexuality, religion, and culture.

Anyone who has ever spent time teaching in a K-12 classroom knows this.  The formal curriculum is only one element of the constant intellectual ballet in which good teachers engage daily.  Teachers are responsible for considering everything about their students.  Are they tired?  Do they speak English?  Do their parents help with their homework?  Is this content too easy?  Too hard?  Easy for some, hard for others?  Is this a good time to introduce new material?  Is this a compelling way to introduce it?

These questions are only tangentially related to the curriculum as dictated by district, state, Jesus, or any other entity.

Nevertheless, this obvious fact is consistently ignored by participants in the creation/evolution debates.

To cite just one example, the witty and engaging science pundit Jerry Coyne often condemns the “accommodationist” tactics of science educators at the National Center for Science Education.  In one recent essay, for instance, Coyne denounced the “purely political” and “purely tactical” argumentation of NCSE leaders Eugenie Scott and Kevin Padian.

Coyne’s implication is that science should not be muddied with such non-scientific thinking.

Fair enough.  But this demonstrates the difficulties of the debates.  SCHOOL SCIENCE must necessarily be discussed in political terms.  And pedagogical terms, and developmental terms, and publishing terms, and scheduling terms, and moral terms, and historical terms, and ethical terms.

Asserting that such things are not scientific, and therefore not part of a proper science classroom, is only itself a political argument.

For those of us interested in education issues, it can be frustrating to see the ways this simple truth can be ignored.  Recent writing from all sides, for example, does not address the ways “science” is not the same as “school science.”

One essay by Steven Pinker in the New Republic, for example, defends the role of science against charges of overweening “scientism.”

Another article in First Things defends religious conservatism against charges of anti-scientism.

For those of us interested in understanding the cultural meanings of science, these are all worth reading.  But they do not help much when it comes to understanding the debates swirling around school science.

School science needs a different language.  School science—as a school subject—cannot be separated from ideas about morality and youth.  It cannot be separated from notions of proper ethics, proper family structures, or proper activities for young people.

For example, we spend time fussing and feuding over whether or not it is good to teach evolution.  Such debates are worthwhile, but they can lead to dead-ends, cultural trenches whose walls no one can see over any more.  If we want to make real progress teaching good science in real classrooms, we need to talk about a wider range of topics.  We need to discuss where it should fit in a curriculum.  How it will be introduced.  What ideas will be emphasized, at what ages.

As the old cliché goes, teachers don’t teach academic subjects, they teach children.  And the complexity of teaching decisions will necessarily be as complicated as the nature of each individual child, crowded together into classrooms with dozens of other infinitely complicated children.

We need a more distinct language with which to address these issues.  This is not simply a question of “Science,” “Religion,” or “Scientism.”  This is a question of teaching young people.  It must allow room for the full complexity of the process.

This is not a plug for creationism.  This is not a plug for teaching watered-down science.

This is a plug for a more effective language to discuss school science.  A plug to recognize the distinct nature of school science and to stop wasting time saying school science should be something it is not.  It is nonsensical—except as a political ploy—to bemoan the fact that creationism is a religious idea and therefore improper in a science classroom.  If students have religious ideas about science, those ideas will automatically be part of a science classroom, whatever research scientists or science-education experts may say.

Classrooms do not parcel out bodies of information the ways research laboratories at the Universities of Chicago or Cambridge do.  In schools, knowledge is always tangled.

Maybe we need Professor Pinker to add another target to his subtitle.  In his recent essay, Pinker directed his “impassioned plea” to “neglected novelists, embattled professors, and tenure-less historians.”

I would like to see an impassioned plea about the complicated nature of school science addressed to school-board members, classroom teachers, PTA members, research scientists, and activist religious folks.

Telling such people that “science” does not include religion has been a losing strategy for over a century.

Why?  Because “school science” does indeed include a host of other ideas.

Spilling more ink cramming school science into the procrustean bed of research science will not help.

 

 

Evolution: Beyond Science and Religion

Outsiders are telling public school families that we must follow the rich man’s elitist religion of evolution, that we no longer have what the Kentucky Constitution says is the right to worship Almighty God.  Instead, this fascist method teaches that our children are the property of the state.

–Matt Singleton, Frankfort, Kentucky, July 2013

Why do so many Americans oppose the teaching of evolution in schools?

The knee-jerk answer is that people fight against mainstream science for religious reasons.

A news story out of Kentucky reminds us that we need to say, “Yes, but…”

Opposition to evolution education in the United States incorporates ideas about religion and science, but we can’t stop there.  If we hope to understand creationism, we need to unpick the tangled skein of ideas that can make up anti-evolution ideology.

This is something that science pundits such as PZ Myers and Jerry Coyne seem unwilling to acknowledge.  America does not face a clear-cut battle between “Science” and “Religion,” between “Knowledge” and “Ignorance,” but a much more stubborn conflict between convoluted collections of ideas, ideas that have grown together over time.  Some science advocates limit themselves to berating creationists for ignorance of evolution, to ridiculing creationists for reactionary adherence to religion.  Such attacks may satisfy our sympathizers, but by willfully mischaracterizing anti-evolutionism, these pro-“science” bloggers only compound the difficulties of healing culture-war divisions.

And those divisions are indeed more complex than activists on either side tend to admit.

Case in point: a notice recently in the Huffington Post drew our attention to this story from Kentucky’s Courier-Journal.  Reporter Mike Wynn described a public meeting over Kentucky’s adoption of the Next Generation Science Standards.  As Wynn reports, opponents of evolution offered comments to the state board of education.  Those comments offer a window into the complicated thinking of anti-evolution activists.

Matt Singleton, for instance, read a statement to the board describing his opposition to the new evolution-friendly science standards.

“Outsiders,” Singleton read,

Are telling public school families that we must follow the rich man’s elitist religion of evolution, that we no longer have what the Kentucky Constitution says is the right to worship Almighty God.  Instead, this fascist method teaches that our children are the property of the state.

As I argued in my 1920s book, anti-evolution activists have always made this sort of intellectual scattershot attack on evolution.  This kind of anti-evolutionism can’t be reduced to merely a theological or scientific argument.  If we hope to understand it, we need to understand the broad intellectual and cultural implications of the argument.  If we want to make sense of it, we must see it for what it is: an “anti-evolution” argument that moves far beyond the boundaries of religion or science.

Some evolution proponents might dismiss The Reverend Singleton’s rant as merely ignorant.  I admit, my first response when someone howls about “outsiders” and “fascist[s]” is to assume we have reached the territory of sea-monsters and sandwich-sign prophets.

But that sort of glib dismissal misses the point.  It does not help us understand why this bundle of anti-evolution ideas remains so politically potent.  Whatever we may think of the connections Singleton makes between region, religion, and rights, those connections make sense to significant numbers of Americans.  It is worth our time to try to understand them.

As a start, let’s try to list all the different reasons for opposing mainstream science education that Singleton packs into this paragraph.

1.) Evolution comes from somewhere else.  (“Outsiders”)

1a.) As an import, evolution is illegitimate.

2.) Evolution is for the rich. (“rich man’s . . . elitist”)

2a.) This elitism calls for popular opposition.

3.) Evolution is a religion. (“religion of evolution”)

3a.) As a religion, it can’t be taught in public schools.

4.) Evolution destroys traditional Baptist religion. (“we no longer have . . . the right to worship Almighty God.”)

4a.) As an attack on religion, it can’t be taught in public schools.

5.) Traditional religion is a Constitutional right. (“the Kentucky Constitution says is the right to worship”)

6.) Evolution is dictatorial. (“fascist method”)

7.) Evolution imposes illegitimate government control over children. (“teaches that our children are property of the state.”)

The Reverend Singleton does not want Kentucky schoolchildren to learn evolution.  But we woefully misunderstand his anti-evolutionism if we simply label him an opponent of “science” and move on.  We also miss the boat if we say too simply that Singleton’s opposition is due to “religious” reasons.  Singleton’s fight against evolution combines a complex bundle of ideas.  That bundle implies certain attitudes toward science and religion.  But it is misleading to say that Singleton is motivated only by “anti-science” attitudes.  Nowhere in his statement—at least in the part published by the Courier-Journal—does Singleton attack science.  And nowhere does Singleton argue that true Biblical faith demands belief in six literal days of creation.

In the American context, we might assume that Singleton believes such things.  But his political argument here includes a much broader bundle of ideas and slogans.

Anyone who hopes to improve evolution education in the United States must start by understanding the complexity of that bundle.  It is not enough to dismiss such arguments as “ignorant” or “irrelevant.”  They make sense to people such as The Reverend Singleton.  They also make sense to the politically powerful voting populace who continue to support the teaching of creationism in America’s science classrooms.

 

 

 

Postmodern Creationism: A Better Story

Add a new category to the creationist bloc in America: postmodernists who don’t “believe” anything.

Journalist Virginia Heffernan has caused a mini-uproar this week by explaining why she’s a creationist.

In a recent essay on Yahoo! News, Heffernan argued that the stories of creationism are simply more “compelling” than those of mainstream science.  In her telling, she wanted to embrace science, since she loves technology.  But science just doesn’t have the right stories.  In her words,

I was amused and moved, but considerably less amused and moved by the character-free Big Bang story (“something exploded”) than by the twisted and picturesque misadventures of Eve and Adam and Cain and Abel and Abraham.

Predictably, science pundits reacted with dismay.  University of Chicago biologist Jerry Coyne lambasted Heffernan’s “remarkable celebration of ignorance.”   University of Minnesota biologist PZ Myers noted Heffernan’s anti-science history: “every time she meets a scientist she opens her mouth and says something stupid . . . .”

Also predictably, evangelical Christians defended Heffernan.  In the Christian Post, journalist Leonardo Blair noted that Heffernan had become a “lightning rod for ridicule,” but that she has also won support from religious people for “standing by her beliefs.”

It seems to me, however, that both the fervent anti-creationist commentators and the evangelical pro-creationists ignore the central thrust of Heffernan’s essay.  Heffernan is not making a case for the truth of creationism.  Indeed, as she explains, “I guess I don’t ‘believe’ that the world was created in a few days, but what do I know? Seems as plausible (to me) as theoretical astrophysics, and it’s certainly a livelier tale.”  This is not a full-throated defense of Biblical creationism.  Instead, Heffernan is making a case for the plausibility of creationism.

And, as far as that goes, she’s right.  Creationism is more than just a religious belief.  It is a convincing and intuitive way of understanding humanity’s predicament.  This is why leading science educators have recognized that simply pouring more science on Americans will never convince them of the truths of evolution.

Heffernan’s attitude does not result from childhood brainwashing in the Bible.  Heffernan does not howl at mainstream institutions from the wilds of San Diego or Northern Kentucky.  She complains, instead, that it is hard to admit to creationism in New York restaurants, to acquaintances from her jobs, perhaps, at the New Yorker or New York Times.  With her handy PhD from Harvard, Heffernan’s attitude does not come from a lack of mainstream education.

Heffernan’s avowed creationism, instead, comes from an over-abundance of mainstream education.  Her attack on mainstream science comes not from Genesis, as she suggests elsewhere, but from Derrida.

Other creation/evolution commentators have made similar points, without going as far as embracing creationism.  Jason Rosenhouse, for instance, in his book Among the Creationists, admits that creationist explanations of life and humanity are much more appealing than the messy truths of mainstream science.

Unlike Rosenhouse, Heffernan takes the postmodern leap.  IF we have no Archimedean perspective from which we can judge competing truth claims, THEN we are forced to choose between competing narratives.  BECAUSE creationism has the better narrative, Heffernan concludes, she must call herself a creationist.

Plus, it generates better headlines to say “I’m a creationist” than to say “Creationism tells better stories of humanity’s origins, but I don’t really believe those stories, but you gotta admit, they are better stories, plus scientists can sometimes be jerks.”

 

Fundamentalist Science, Spock, and Oprah

What do Science, Spock, and Oprah have to do with each other?

They help explain the thinking of anti-religion activists such as biologist Jerry Coyne.  The way some atheists figure, since religion is not logical, it should have no impact on our deliberations.  Oprah doesn’t agree. But who wields more clout in our culture, Oprah or Jerry Coyne?  Or, to put it another way, who is the star of Star Trek, Spock or Capt. Kirk?

Fundamentalist Science is highly illogical.

Fundamentalist Science is highly illogical.

I love to read Professor Coyne’s blog, Why Evolution Is True.  He always makes intelligent arguments for the propriety of a scientific understanding of reality, and the dangers of “accommodationism” with religion.  Plus he has lots of pictures of cats and bugs.

Recently, two posts bumped up against each other that demonstrated the difficulties with Coyne’s approach to these issues, IMHO.  In one post, Coyne reviewed survey data that revealed the relative overabundance of atheism among America’s top scientists.  In the next, Coyne bemoaned the appearance of Oprah Winfrey as Harvard’s commencement speaker this year.  As Coyne pointed out, Winfrey has done a great deal to promote anti-scientific rubbish over her career.

Now, I’m no Oprah fan.  Nor am I particularly religious.  But I can’t help but notice that Coyne’s fundamentalist attitude about this subject fuels the bitterness of our continuing culture wars over the role of religion and science in the public square.  This kind of bitterness is both unnecessary and counterproductive.

Science-advocates such as Coyne promote a particular vision of science as rigidly opposed to religion.  Coyne often protests against truckling to religious thought among scientists and science educators, such as the folks at the National Academy of Sciences or the National Center for Science Education. As I’ve noted before, Coyne’s extreme view of the necessary divide between science and religion puts him at times on the side of extreme creationists.

But Coyne’s religion- and Oprah-bashing put him on the side of some other curious figures as well.  Most famously in pop culture, Gene Roddenberry created Spock as the Asperger’s First Officer to balance Kirk’s testosterosity.  Spock always argued for the rule of logic and was always trounced by Kirk’s shoot-from-the-hip style of emotional leadership.

Smarter writers, too, have explored this Spock/Kirk, Coyne/Oprah divide. Most famously, Dostoyevsky’s Ivan Karamazov concluded reasonably and logically that God could not exist.  However, Ivan could not handle Smerdyakov’s gruesome conclusion to that logic.  Nor could Ivan counter Alyosha’s loving-kiss argument.  Like Spock, Ivan’s blind reason could not cope with the complexities of human experience.

Truth may not be democratic.  But our society is.  It is a good thing to have smart people complain about the influence of thoughtless media-mongers like Oprah.  But those smart people must also recognize that Oprah—unlike the elite atheist scientists—has her finger on the pulse of the culture.  She knows what people find important. She knows what people find interesting.  Oprah’s imprimatur does not make an idea true.  But it does mean that the idea matters somehow.

Dismissing such things out of hand demonstrates an unnecessary Spock Syndrome.  Simply because ideas are illogical does not mean they are not true, in an important sense.

 

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.

 

 

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.

 

Jerry Coyne Joins the Creationists

H/T: Sensuous Curmudgeon

Has Jerry Coyne really allied with creationists?

If you follow the creation/evolution wars, you’re likely familiar with the work of Coyne, a biologist and a leading voice in the long-running creation/evolution controversy.  Coyne famously argues that religion and science are incompatible.  In his book Why Evolution Is True, Coyne elegantly and concisely made the case for evolution and demolished the claims of creationists.

So how could this arch-atheist anti-creationist have joined with creationists?

In a recent interview with Haaretz, Coyne suggested that evolution went hand-in-hand with atheism, a strong central government and an expansive tax-funded social safety net.  In doing so, Coyne has added his voice to a long creationist intellectual tradition.

Science and religion, Coyne stated in this interview, “are polar opposites, both methodologically and philosophically. . . . Such contradictions [between differing religious truths], of course, render the term ‘religious truth’ ridiculous.”

In order to approach truth, Coyne believes, we must move away from religion and toward science.  To help the process along, Coyne told Haaretz, society must embrace a bigger government and a more egalitarian economy.

“The Scandinavian countries . . .” Coyne argued,

Have the most highly developed social-welfare systems in the world, and they are also the least religious countries ‏(for example, only 23 percent of Norwegians and 34 percent of Swedes describe themselves as religious‏). They are also the most receptive to evolution.

When citizens feel as if they have a government-provided safety net, Coyne told interviewer Smadar Reisfeld, they are less likely to cling to the false comfort of religion.

If scientists hoped to convince Americans of evolution’s obvious truth value, they must overthrow the false idol of religion.  Instead, Coyne said, “the government should intervene to a certain degree in order to give people a sense of security. . . . A more just, caring, egalitarian society must be created.”

So how does this sensible and pragmatic progressivism put Coyne in the creationist camp?

For generations, creationists have argued that evolution will and must lead to both atheism and socialism.  My hunch is that Coyne would not accept the “socialist” label, but Coyne’s vision of a government-led, Scandinavian-style social contract is precisely the sort of structure many creationists would call “socialist.”

At the dawn of the long creation/evolution struggle, for instance, William Jennings Bryan warned that evolution could only lead to atheism.  “Atheists, Agnostics, and Higher Critics begin with Evolution,” Bryan insisted in 1921, “They build on that.”  [Bryan, The Bible and Its Enemies: An Address Delivered at the Moody Bible Institute of Chicago (Chicago: Bible Institute Colportage Association, 1921), 19.]

As historian Edward Larson has pointed out, lawyers in 1926 Tennessee defended the anti-evolution Butler Law as a way to protect young students from creeping communism, not just a way to save them from the ideas of evolution itself.    [Larson, Summer for the Gods (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2001), 215.]

Throughout the twentieth century, anti-evolutionists have insisted that evolution must lead to—or come from—both atheism and socialism.

By the end of the twentieth century, for example, leading creation-science pundit Henry Morris equated evolution with every ideological terror of the century.  “Marxism, socialism, and communism, no less than Nazism, are squarely based on evolutionism.” [Morris, The Long War Against God (Master Books, 2000), 83).]

Perhaps Professor Coyne might not relish the company.  But by insisting that thinking people must choose between science and religion, Coyne encourages creationist dogma.  By tying evolution to large government and restricted capitalism, Coyne agrees with generations of the most fervent creationists.

 

“Awash with the intolerance of enthusiasm:” Michael Ruse Takes on the New Atheists

I don’t think I’d like to be Richard Dawkins in a dunk tank.  The provocative and prolific New Atheist, though, seems to relish his role as cultural provocateur.  Dawkins is well known for his biting and vicious jabs against faith.  One of his most famous books derides “The God Delusion.”  In 1996, Dawkins told one audience, “faith is one of the world’s great evils, comparable to the smallpox virus but harder to eradicate.”  Elsewhere, Dawkins opined, “I think there’s really something very evil about faith.”

A recent article by philosopher of science and anti-creationist Michael Ruse takes Dawkins to task for being so fanatically religious in his atheism.  Ruse argues that the virulent anti-religion of Dawkins and his followers awkwardly conceals “the enthusiasm of the true believer, and this encourages a set of unnerving attributes: intolerance, hero-worship, moral certainty and the self-righteous condemnation of unbelievers.”

Ruse himself claims to be more atheist than Dawkins, more Darwinian.  Ruse has fought tirelessly against creationism in schools and culture.  Yet he insists that Dawkins’ brand of in-your-face atheism misses the point.  Instead of condemning religion as fit only for the ignorant or insane, as Dawkins likes to do, Ruse insists, “I think my religious friends are mistaken, but I don’t think they are stupid or crazy or ill or evil simply because they are religious.”

Though Ruse claims this is not a personal issue, his feelings have clearly been hurt.  Dawkins and allies such as Jerry Coyne have made it personal.  As Ruse complains,

“I, and others of my ilk, am reviled in terms far harsher than those kept for the real opponents like the Creationists. We are labelled ‘accommodationists’ for our willingness to give religion a space not occupied by science.”    

Ruse makes a powerful argument that the “enthusiasm” of the New Atheists resembles nothing so much as religious sectarianism.  But he strangely conflates the New Atheism of Dawkins and his allies with a far broader Humanist movement.  There are certainly connections, but it does not make sense to use the two terms interchangeably.

And, as Ruse must certainly be aware, his diatribe will likely be most celebrated by the very creationists he and Dawkins both condemn.  The notion that humanism itself is a religion has long been a central strategic point of conservative religious activists.  For example, in the early 1980s, evangelical Protestant theologian Francis Schaeffer condemned “humanism” as a set of ideas that placed humanity at the center of all things, and made humans the “measure of all things.” Fundamentalist school activists Mel and Norma Gabler similarly denounced humanism as “a religion with an anti-biblical, anti-God bent.”  And as blockbuster fundamentalist author Tim LaHaye insisted in his 1983 book The Battle for the Public Schools:

“Don’t be deceived into thinking that humanism is merely a philosophy.  That is a masquerade humanists have utilized for over three centuries to deceive millions in the Western world.  And don’t be duped into thinking that because religious people believe in God, those who do not believe in God are not religious.”(pg. 75).

My hunch is that Ruse would not relish the intellectual company.  All the more since such arguments about the essential religiosity of humanism have long been at the core of conservative strategies to transform public schooling.  Most famously in the 1980s case Mozert v. Hawkins County, religious conservatives had initial strategic success portraying humanism as a religion.

If humanism counts as religion, the argument went, then public schools have no Constitutional business promoting it.  Textbooks with an evolutionary perspective, books that promote a notion of material origins of humanity, schoolbooks that teach the primary importance of human reason, such things smack of government instruction in the religion of humanism.

Strange bedfellows.

As Professor Ruse notes in his essay, his anti-creationist credentials are impeccable.  Yet just as sectarian disputes among religious folks have provided some of the most profound and influential arguments against religion in general, so the clash between these atheistic Darwinists will likely provide the very best reasons to include more creationist-friendly ideas in public schools.