INTELLIGENT DESIGN & SCIENCE

By Gene Barmore

In his article on "Science, Evolution and ‘Intelligent Design"’ (in the June Newsletter), Charles Rulon states the scientific naturalist position that the scientific method is "the only method we know of for reliably advancing empirically testable knowledge." With that I, a secular humanist, thoroughly agree; as would a great many religious people. But many of them-

--including many who are scientists-- would add that there are other ways of knowing, and other than natural (materialistic) things to be known. In her work promoting the teaching of science-

—and particularly evolution-- in the public schools, Dr. Eugenia Scott emphasizes that good science requires that any such beliefs be excluded from scientific thinking. That is why creationism—including Intelligent Design—is unacceptable in the schools.

The other side of the coin, Scott goes on, is that scientists —as scientists—should not make judgments that there is nothing but the material; to do so goes beyond the scope of science. I think that is what Niles Eldredge means when he writes, in "The Triumph of Evolution and the Failure of Creationism", that we cannot afford "these stupid culture wars with people getting upset that their version of God seems threatened" by the scientific facts of evolution. "Nor can we afford the arrogant intolerance of the scientists who claim that their science—evolution in particular—demonstrates unequivocally that there is no God."

Michael Behe is one of the pillars of the ID movement. His theory of "irreducible complexity" is cited by ID supporters. I cannot begin to understand the details of biochemical research, which Behe explains in his book, "Darwin’s Black Box". But I can understand these two sentences: "For the record, I have no reason to doubt that the universe is the billions of years old that physicists say it is. Further, I find the idea of common descent (that all organisms share a common ancestor) fairly convincing, and have no particular reason to doubt it."

I believe that it is important that the facts of evolution be taught well, and that they come to be widely accepted as factual. The evidence is so strong that even the religious right may eventually succumb. We should not be shy about bringing Behe’s statement to the attention of Bible-based creationists.

But at the molecular level, the proof of natural selection has been harder to come by, and it is still harder to explain. I am not a biologist, and to be honest about it. I believe that I, and probably many others, reject ID at this level on the basis of scientific materialism, a philosophic presupposition, rather than on an understanding of the science. (My source for what I have learned about the subject is Carl Zimmer’s "Evolution, the Triumph of an Idea". Perhaps Rulon could help us here with some explanations and references.) Behe’s presupposition, on the other hand is religious—where he finds the microbiology too complex to be explained by natural selection, he proposes ID. Neither position is scientific.

While it is well for "us" to be aware of the goals of the organized ID movement, and to educate ourselves about how to respond to them, let us not unduly burden the public dialogue by emphasizing views which are all too easily equated with atheism.. Consider: in a 1996 survey of 1000 scientists listed in "American Men of Science", only 60% expressed disbelief of a personal God "to whom one might pray in expectation of receiving an answer." Let’s keep our eye on the ball. We can stand for good science without engaging in theological debate.

I close with a quote from Scott: "If we are going to solve the creation and evolution issue, we have to be very clear about the nature of science—and help to dispel the erroneous idea that somehow there is vast disagreement between evolution (or science in general) and religion."

Let's say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else. And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to Elaine, and she says it aloud: "Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?" And then there is silence in the car.

To Elaine, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of. And Roger is thinking: Gosh! Six months. And Elaine is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship, either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward ... I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading Toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person? And Roger is thinking: . . . so that means it was . . . let's see February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means -- lemme check the odometer -- Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here. And Elaine is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed -- even before I sensed it -- that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected. And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right and this thing is shifting like a goddamn garbage truck. I paid those incompetent thieves $600. And Elaine is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. God, I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure. And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90- day warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna say, the scumballs. And Elaine is thinking: maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy. And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their....

"Roger," Elaine says aloud. "What?" says Roger, startled. "Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I should never have . .Oh God, I feel so..." (She breaks down, sobbing.) "What?" says Roger. "I'm such a fool," Elaine sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse."

"There's no horse?" says Roger. "You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Elaine says. "No!" says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer. "It's just that ... It's that I need some time," Elaine says. (There is a pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can tries to come up with a safe response. "Yes," he says. (Elaine touches his hand.) "Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?" she says. "What way?" says Roger. "That way about time," says Elaine. "Oh," says Roger. "Yes." (Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.) "Thank you, Roger," she says. "Thank you," says Roger. Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Roger gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures. It's better if he doesn't think about it. (This is also Roger's policy regarding world hunger.)

The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification.