Religion

I find myself nodding in agreement with the wisdom of the Kansas Board of Education. Not very much agreement, to be sure; the recent move to introduce official skepticism about evolution into its new public school science standards is just bad. Bad, bad Kansas.

But, amidst the bemoaning of this setback for Enlightenment values, we all had a little fun with the school board’s attempt to change the definition of science, as Risa has already pointed out. (See also John Rennie at the new Scientific American blog.) Seems that they have decided to open the door to explanations other than the purely natural — obviously, so that they can include religious (“supernatural”) explanations within a science curriculum.

But only after reading Dennis Overbye’s story in yesterday’s New York Times did I really understand what they had done. Here’s the new definition of “science”:

The changes in the official state definition are subtle and lawyerly, and involve mainly the removal of two words: “natural explanations.” But they are a red flag to scientists, who say the changes obliterate the distinction between the natural and the supernatural that goes back to Galileo and the foundations of science.

The old definition reads in part, “Science is the human activity of seeking natural explanations for what we observe in the world around us.” The new one calls science “a systematic method of continuing investigation that uses observation, hypothesis testing, measurement, experimentation, logical argument and theory building to lead to more adequate explanations of natural phenomena.”

At the risk of alienating all my friends — the school board is right. Science isn’t about finding “natural” explanations vs. “supernatural” ones; it’s about finding correct explanations, without any presupposition about what form they may take. The distinguishing feature of science isn’t in the explanations themselves, it’s in the process by which we find them. Namely, we toss out hypotheses, compare them to data, and look for the hypotheses which account for the largest number of phenomena in the simplest possible way. Simplicity here is in the sense of “algorithmic compressibility” — the number of bits, if you like, required to specify the mechanism that purports to do all this explaining.

What the Kansas school board has tried to do is to open the door for unbiased consideration of natural and supernatural explanations by a common standard — that of scientific investigation. This is just what I’ve been arguing for all along. Scientists have to get off this kick that science and religion are completely distinct magisteria that have nothing to do with each other. Quite the contrary; religion (at least in its common Western forms) goes around making claims about how the world works, and it’s perfectly appropriate to judge such claims by the same standards that we judge any other suggested hypotheses about nature.

The thing is, if we judge popular religious vs. naturalist explanations for how the universe works by a common scientific standard, naturalism wins. Without breaking a sweat, frankly; by the beginning of the second half, we have to send in the scrubs from the bench, at the risk of being accused of running up the score. Intelligent Design, to take one obvious example, is laughably bad as a scientific hypothesis. It explains practically nothing (since it refuses to say anything about the nature of the designer, so we have no clue what such a designer would ever choose to design), while introducing a fantastic amount of new complexity in the form of an entirely distinct metaphysical category (the designer). I have no problem saying that ID is a “scientific hypothesis”; it’s just such a bad one that no sensible scientist would give it a moment’s thought if it weren’t for the massive public-relations campaign behind it.

Science doesn’t home in on naturalistic explanations by assumption; it chooses them because those are the best ones. That doesn’t mean that we have to “teach the controversy” in high schools; the number of grossly inadequate scientific theories is far larger than we could ever address in such a context. But it’s about time that we admitted that science is perfectly capable of judging supernatural claims — and finding them sadly wanting.

A couple of thousand years ago, we didn’t know much about how the universe works. It’s no surprise that our ancestors came up with a mishmash of beliefs about nature, humans, and our place in the cosmos.

What is a consistent source of surprise is that so many people still cling to these dusty beliefs, no matter what variety of silliness it leads them to. One of the foundational beliefs of mainstream Western religions is that humans are somehow special in God’s eyes. Could anything shake us from such a conviction? Majikthise and Cynical-C point to one such thought experiment: a story from Catholic News Service about whether space aliens have souls. What would happen to our belief in our own singular status within creation if we found that there were other sentient beings out there, capable of thoughts and feelings and launching wars of choice?

Jesuit Brother Guy Consolmagno has thought about it, and reached an interesting conclusion: it wouldn’t change anything.

He said his aim with the booklet was to reassure Catholics “that you shouldn’t be afraid of these questions” and that “no matter what we learn, it doesn’t invalidate what we already know” and believe. In other words, scientific study and discovery and religion enrich one another, not cancel out each other.

If new forms of life were to be discovered or highly advanced beings from outer space were to touch down on planet Earth, it would not mean “everything we believe in is wrong,” rather, “we’re going to find out that everything is truer in ways we couldn’t even yet have imagined,” he said.

Not to be nit-picky, but the motto “no matter what we learn, it doesn’t invalidate what we already know” is not evidence that science and religion enrich each other, it is evidence of precisely the opposite. The distinguishing feature of science is precisely that it stands ready to invalidate its previous theories on the basis of new evidence. We approach the universe with an open mind, struggling to understand what it has to tell us; we don’t figure things out ahead of time and use the universe to fabricate a flattering story about ourselves.

But the next sentence was my favorite:

The Book of Genesis describes two stories of creation, and science, too, has more than one version of how the cosmos may have come into being.

That’s a tad misleading right there. Genesis does indeed have two stories of creation, one right after the other (the first starts at Genesis 1:1, the second at Genesis 2:4). The two versions are completely contradictory — in the first, God creates plants, and then animals, and then man and woman simultaneously; in the second, God creates man out of dust, then plants a garden, and woman is only an afterthought. And everyone knows why there are two mutually exclusive stories right after each other: they came from two different texts, written by different people at different times, edited together later into a single document. Fascinating as history, but not a stable foundation on which to build a view of the universe.

Scientists, it’s true, have lots of versions of how the cosmos may have come into being; heck, I have one myself. That’s how we work; we throw ideas out there, compare them to other pieces of information, and toss out the ones that don’t work. If new information comes along, we’re hoping that it conforms to our personally favorite ideas, but if not, that’s exciting and we look forward to learning something.

And when those space aliens get here, I’m definitely going to ask them what they think about the anthropic principle.

Even in a heightened state of cynicism, this isn’t something I would have guessed. In comments to the Santorum post, Becky Stanek points out that most medical doctors believe that evolution should be taught in schools. That brought me up short — “most”? Shouldn’t it be “essentially all”?

Actually, no. The poll results are, from my perspective, horrifying. Some lowlights:

• 37% of physicians do not agree that the theory of evolution is more correct than intelligent design.
• More than half of Protestant physicians (54%) agree more with intelligent design than with evolution.
• 35% of those Protestants believe that God created humans in their present form.
• Half of all doctors believe that schools should be allowed to teach intelligent design.
• When asked whether intelligent design has legitimacy as science, an overwhelming majority of Jewish doctors (83%) and half of Catholic doctors (51%) believe that intelligent design is simply “a religiously inspired pseudo- science rather than a legitimate scientific speculation,” while more than half of Protestant doctors (63%) believe that intelligent design is a “legitimate scientific speculation.”

Don’t doctors have to, you know, go to college? I could imagine noise at the 10% level, but this kind of widespread superstition among purportedly educated people is appalling. What is going on?