File This Bill under “Ambivalence”

The Texas Legislature is in session, and a bill has been proposed to protect faculty and students from discrimination for studying “theory of intelligent design or other alternate theories of the origination and development of organisms.”

As you can imagine, this is simply igniting the blogosphere, mostly with outrage at how backwards Texas is. Pick your own favorite invective and it is surely being hurled our way.

I am having a very difficult time deciding how I feel about the bill. Part of me supports the general idea of protecting academic freedom from political correct whims. We have respected research on many esoteric and minutial topics, yet there are some topics that are simply taboo. The purpose of tenure is to protect academic freedom to explore extremely controversial topics with a minimum of blowback. To the extent that universities fail to hold themselves to that standard, such laws may be useful. Regardless of how folks feel about “Expelled,” there is a certain level of antipathy towards areas with theistic implications, whether or not they explicitly have anything to do with evangelical Christianity.

To be honest, there is also some controversy among scientists of faith as to how to define ID. Is it a theory, as the bill calls it, or something more vague? A theory implies a series of testable/falsifiable hypotheses that suggest research to answer specific questions. If ID merely suggests a different interpretation of the data, but does not offer insight on how future experiments can be performed that would reveal either an increase or decrease in the ruggedness of that interpretation, it is of limited scientific value.

Of course, I suspect some ID proponents would rebut with the idea that if they had the freedom to pursue ID research in the open, then they would be in a better position to move from the latter to the former. Fair enough.

For me, the heart of the matter goes back to the whole agent/mechanism dichotomy. When looking at origins, we need to be careful to distinguish the mechanism by which things occurred, from the agency initiating and/or guiding that mechanism. Both sides muddy this line pretty badly and it makes for increased antagonism.

The mechanism question is best explained thus: Did the various species on earth arise from whole cloth, either instantaneously or in a type of punctuated equilibrium, or by a series of gradual processes from simple to more complex? There are a number of variations from these descriptions, but basically this covers the various proposed models.

The agency question is quite independent from the answer to the mechanism question: What initiated the first thing we can clearly identify as a living organism and was subsequent development directed or random. If directed, how and by what?

Then there is the clincher agency question:  Can we definitively distinguish the difference between various agencies? If the mechanism is Darwinian evolution, how would we tell if it were motivated by an intelligence with a purpose or simply was a series of random mutations that now that we are here, we call ‘lucky?’ The same question can be asked for whatever answer we come up with to the mechanism question.

If we cannot distinguish between agency models, then the discussion is moot, and must firmly remain in the areas of philosophy. If, however, there were a way to distinguish between the agency models, then it seems like it is of paramount importance to pursue that course and resolve it. Otherwise, we are limiting our own progress. But to the extent the question cannot even be discussed in the academy, there will be a nagging question in people’s minds, “what if?” The Christian church has received a great deal of criticism over how it handled various key scientific discoveries and how if they had embraced the investigations rather than squelching them, more progress might have been made faster. Are we as the scientific establishment making the same mistake that we accuse the Church of making?

If ID researchers can garner grant money, attract students, perform competent investigations and help resolve even the clincher question, why not allow it? Why should universities care as long as they are getting their overhead? It certainly adds to the diversity of the community.

I know many in the scientific community see the issue as moot. They are upset because they genuinely believe the issue is settled, the horse is so dead that it’s already a fossil in the British Museum. At the very least, part of tolerance is allowing others to scratch their itch.

Also, many believe ID is just an excuse for quietly inserting religion into science. While many ID proponents are scientists of faith, not all are. While a few may have a hidden agenda, most don’t. I personally know many people in the ID movement, and they have absolutely no desire to post the Apostle’s Creed in their classrooms and recite it at the beginning of class. However, no matter how convincingly that is argued, I know that many naturalists cannot be convinced that ID is nothing more than a secret Christian conspiracy. All I can say is that it isn’t. You can choose to believe it or not.

(Some readers are probably asking where I come down on this as I am obviously sympathetic, but not quite embracing, and so wonder if I am adopting an artificially neutral position to ‘appear legitimate.’ I address that issue here.)

Going back to the proposed bill, the small-government, freedom-minded part of me isn’t terribly thrilled with it. Here is yet another law cluttering the books. Even if the universities do not discriminate and take the attitude I propose four paragraphs ago, would the ID researchers be able to obtain grant money or be reviewed fairly in the literature? Can this bill help with that? Should it try? How will the Law of Unintended Consequences have an impact on things? Many well-intentioned laws end up, through the vagaries of practice and interpretation, doing the exact opposite of their intended effect. If someone wanted to study the scientific implications of, say, the Hindu creation story, would that be covered by the protections of the bill? It is an equal protection bill? The wording appears so, but the challenges of a pluralistic society require us to examine such things, preferably ahead of time.

Did Representative Zedler consult with faculty and universities to explore impact before proposing the bill? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to “bite the hand that’s petting me.” I’m exploring the issue as a scientist—looking at it from various angles to see if it is needed, wanted and/or accomplishes the intended purposes. If the answer is no to any of those, it needs to be reexamined for improvements or possibly discarded as a nice try.

I have no doubt that my ambivalence on this issue will irritate folks on both sides. I think there is need for increased charity towards one another, and let the data lead where it will, but I’m not convinced this bill is the best way to make progress towards that.

SDG

2. What is Science?: 6 Questions

Think back to your English classes. Yes, way back when. Remember the 6 Question Words? They were drilled into us as the foundational questions we humans ask. Who? What? Where? When? How? Why? Let’s revisit them here.

Which are questions asked by science?

Who?    No, that is a History question.

(“Who is buried in Grant’s Tomb?”)

What?   Sure, that is a great Science question.

(“What is the average airspeed of an unladen swallow?”)

Where? No, that is the realm of Geography.

(“Where is the North Pole?”)

When?  Again, that’s History.

(“When was the War of 1812?”)

How?    Yes, another key Science question.

(“How does warp drive work?”)

Why?    Here is where this topic gets interesting.

Let’s ask a common why science question: “Why is the sky blue?” Sounds like a science question. If we try to rephrase it, we find that this could be one of two questions: “What is the mechanism causing the sky to appear blue?” or “What is the purpose for the sky being blue?” If we are asking the first, then it is actually a science question. It is really a cleverly disguised ‘what’ or ‘how’ question. If we are asking the second, it is truly a why question. A pure why question is about purpose, reasons, etc. It is a philosophical/ theological question, not a science question.

So we humans ask six basic questions: Who are we? Where do we come from? What is our universe made of? How does it all work? When did it all begin? Why are we here in the first place? Science answers two of them—one third. Granted, it is a very powerful third, but still only a third. Furthermore, this implies that science and religion are not fundamentally in conflict but should complement each other as they answer different questions. This concept is known philosophically as NOMA, or Non-Overlapping MAgisteria. It basically means that the areas of authority of science and religion (and the other fields) don’t overlap. (For a bit more on this topic, see the post, Vibrant Dance:  War Report!)

With this in mind, let’s look at a noncontroversial scientific subject like human cloning. A researcher, looking at the world from a purely scientific perspective, asking the ‘what’ and ‘how,’ looks at cell division (mitosis) and asks, “How did that happen?” As part of checking it out, other questions arise: “What factors affect it?” “Can I do the same thing?” “If cells can clone themselves, what about bigger organisms?” “Higher” organisms reproduce either sexually or asexually, and there is usually genetic variation in the offspring, whereas with a cell it is usually impossible to tell the parent from the child. In sexual reproduction, where there are gender differences within a species, the parent from each gender contributes half of the genetic information. This is done through the process of producing special reproductive cells (gametes) with only half of that parent’s genes (meiosis). These gametes are known as eggs (female) and sperm (male).

The scientist understands all of this and knows that eggs have the special property that when they have a full set of chromosomes, they start cloning themselves as the first step to forming the full organism. So, if a higher organism is to be cloned, then it must be done by removing the half load of genes from an egg and reloading it with the mother’s full genetic set, and then letting the egg do its thing. So we get cloned fruit flies, mice, and so on, and finally a sheep. (Good Baaa, Dolly!) As we progress up the organism complexity chart, we look to the top and see good ol’ Homo sapiens, and we wonder if the process works on organisms in that rarified stratum. So far, the scientist is merely investigating the ‘what’ and ‘how’ of various kinds of biological reproduction. As it is truly impressive work, it gets noticed by the larger community. The ‘why’ folks, the theologians and philosophers, start looking at the research from their perspective, see where the scientist is headed, and comment, “We obviously are doing this cloning thing, but should we?”

The scientist is asked to comment on the concerns of the why group, and responds, “Those are good questions. I haven’t really thought about it, as I’ve been concerned with looking at the mechanisms and trying to understand and manipulate them.” The rest come back with, “You haven’t thought about it? You have a moral obligation to examine the ethics of what you do!” The scientist responds, “I suppose you have a point. However, my training is in the ‘what’ and ‘how,’ not the ‘why.’ If you want me to comment on the why issues, we all have to recognize that I am stepping out of the science and into philosophy. If you want me to stick to science, I can tell you all about how organisms reproduce, what obstacles there are to multicellular cloning, what its current limits are, what the biological risks are, as well as the possibilities. My business is understanding nature and how we can manipulate it. Your job is to set the rules on who can use which of these tools, when and how.”

It would be nice if things were that cut-and-dried—if our roles were that independent of each other. Fortunately or unfortunately, they aren’t. A human being by nature is an interdisciplinary organism, not a single-function robot. Every human being asks all six questions. Each one of us is a historian, a scientist, a geographer, and a philosopher. So it is reasonable to ask scientists about the ethics of their research. But we have to remember that we are not asking scientific questions.

Since professional scientists have focused their talents and energies on asking the ‘what’ and ‘how,’ we need to realize that when we ask them the ‘why’ questions, their answers tend to be colored by their desire to fulfill their training and explorations.

We as scientists need to realize that our research has implications in the ‘real world’ and that the results will be available to fallible and even malicious human beings, and so we must adjust our perspectives as scientists accordingly. We also must be mindful that even if we understand all of the mechanistic mysteries of the universe, it will neither answer all of our questions nor solve all of our problems.

Thus, NOMA is not a truly workable philosophical model today as much of our research runs into walls between the six questions, and not just in biology. Cosmology and physics also run into areas of overlap repeatedly. As this series progresses, we will examine a framework for how a relatively peaceable interplay between the magisteria can be achieved.

SDG

Pan-Creationism

As I wrote my previous post, I realized it might be a good idea to reveal my view of origins. Trying to follow good journalistic practices, I have attempted to describe various views as a neutral third-party, but this can be confusing to readers who are trying to infer what I think about such a contentious issue.

I recently decided that I am, ultimately, a ‘Pan-Creationist.’ To wit, it all panned out and here we are. Before you go accusing me of copping-out, let me explain.

I believe firmly in the first five words of Genesis:  “In the beginning, God created.” After that, I WAS NOT THERE, so I don’t know.

I believe God is perfectly capable of creating the universe in six seconds, so six days isn’t a problem when it comes to His ability. Neither do I limit Him to six literal 24 hour days. It is a very interesting question, but to me it is not a doctrine on which I intend to stand or fall.

Dammit, Jim, I’m a chemist, not a Hebrew scholar, geologist, or biologist. I’ve never even taken a biochemistry course. Therefore, I do not have the technical expertise to comment with authority on the topic of origins, so I refuse to. That is not a cop-out, it is professional integrity.

I do not hold the Bible to the standards of the Journal of the American Chemical Society or similar. Given that scientific journals came thousands of years after Scripture, I don’t see modern scientific standards as being backwards compatible with ancient Hebrew literature.

As a layman who has studied the Bible for over 25 years, and as a PhD scientist who understands the scientific method and sees it as a valid and powerful method for studying the natural world, I lean at this point in the direction of progressive creation. That is, that the six days of Genesis 1 are periods of time, and creation occurred over billions of years. However, I am still open to new data and new interpretations of both the Book of Scripture and the Book of Nature. I find intriguing arguments in most of the various camps from the young earthers to the theistic evolutionists, but have not found a compelling set of arguments to place me firmly at a defined position. My experience tells me that the truth of hazy things often lies somewhere between the extreme views, so I tend to gravitate there while waiting for new info.

Part of the issue goes back to my theme of agent-mechanism dichotomy. Science, as a tool of studying the natural universe is able to offer extremely limited insight on things supernatural. Therefore, I have to rely on more than science to determine if the agent of creation is God, naturalistic forces, or some other unknown force. My assessment of all the data I have, including personal experience, is that God does exist. Historical sciences like paleogeology, astronomy and evolutionary biology have the substantial limitations of not being repeatable, with no living eyewitnesses or written documents (reliable or otherwise). Thus, interpretation of the data relies on key assumptions that apparently competent professionals disagree on, largely based on whether they assume the supernatural can even exist or not. This makes definitive mechanistic determinations difficult, but not impossible.

In summary, did God do it? Yes. How? I look forward to seeing the better than blu-ray version when I reach Glory. Til then, it’s an open question.

SDG

Define Your Terms!

I got into an argument with a friend the other day over evolution. He argued that basically evolution had done nothing good for the world, and I maintained that, in spite of some questions about the ultimate accuracy of the model, it had successfully guided research into some useful discoveries. He responded that they were made using what Bacon, Newton and others had developed long before Darwin came along.

We went round and round until I realized that we were talking past each other. He was arguing against evolutionary philosophy, and I was talking strictly about the scientific theory of evolution as a mechanism. I realized that this was the agent-mechanism debacle that I keep railing about, all over again. In his mind, ‘evolution’ refers to the entire kit and kaboodle of atheistic evolutionary theory and philosophy of origins. In my mind, I see distinct separations between Darwin’s scientific theory (and subsequent derivations) and the naturalistic philosophy with which it is often paired and which tend to feed off of each other.

Therein is the confusion—to many people, Christian or otherwise, there is no separation between the scientific mechanistic theory of evolution and the naturalism prevalent among atheistic/agnostic folks. Thus, to talk about one, you are talking about the other.

Unless one recognizes that they are separate (though closely related), it can be difficult to evaluate the theory on its scientific merits or lack thereof (depending on your viewpoint). The theory says the diversity of life arose through genetic changes over time. The philosophy says therefore that God did not have any hand in getting us here and, in fact, doesn’t exist.

Thus, it is imperative to carefully define your terms in most any discussion and make sure all parties agree to them. Unfortunately, even once I realized the confusion and explained it to him, we were forced to agree to disagree, as he seemed unable or unwilling to concede my assertion that they were separable.

For those folks who are ‘theistic evolutionists,’ this is the uphill battle they face. There are all too many people on both sides like my friend who don’t see them as separable. Therefore, many Christians see them as heretics, and many naturalists see them as cheap compromisers trying to find a way to allow for their faith in the face of ‘overwhelming scientific evidence to the contrary.’

In nearly every field, there is at least one issue that causes bitter division. What is it in yours? Can some of the heat in the division be reduced by taking a step back, and starting from first principles, set up the definition of terms such that jumbled ideas can be separated? (Maybe this isn’t possible long term as the jumbled ideas may truly be interrelated, but is it possible to temporarily set up a separation for purposes of argument and theory refinement?)

SDG