W.W. Norton and Co. have published a lavish single-volume collection of the four great works of Charles Darwin. The famous socio-biologist E.O. Wilson has lent his erudition to the project by writing introductions to each of the works. He also wrote a general introduction to the volume, which Arts and Letters Daily has plucked and posted to hyperspace.
In the introduction, Wilson rightly excoriates the naivety of those who espouse a simplistic (and perhaps decidedly American) understanding of human origins. He also laments the tenacity with which the creationist agenda has dug in and held on to the minds of those setting the curriculums for highschool science classes. The legitimacy and pervasiveness that creationist ideology enjoys is certainly an affront to the discipline of science, for it violates the (probably correct) presumption of methodological naturalism that is essential to the proper, empirical conduct of scientific inquiry. With this in mind, it seems clear that those seeking a rigorous explanation of the natural processes of the universe would be mistaken if they turned to Moses for an answer. The great theologians of the early church knew that - neither Origen nor Augustine advocated a literalist reading of Genesis. Centuries later, John Calvin enjoined those interested in such pursuits to seek the counsel of the scientists of their day. Therefore, belief in a six-day creation is not only bad science, it's a misuse of Genesis cosmogony and thus bad theology as well. In fact, one might go so far as to say that to use Genesis as a scientific "textbook" that describes how things came to be does a great disservice to the complexity of the Genesis as literature. Genesis is a strange piece of writing, fraught with wonder and mystery; in it abounds greater things than mere taxonomy and history.
Then again, perhaps it's a rather useless endeavor to waste words on the creationists. It certainly doesn't take a great feat of intellect to disabuse their ideology of its legitimacy (though many still cling to it in the teeth of such evidence to the contrary). I'm sure Wilson would concur that having to refute creationists is an unfortunate diversion of mental energy away from more important questions about the way things are.
Luckily for this particular post, Wilson doesn't end his article immediately after decrying the creationist agenda. He continues, touting not only the triumph of science over creationism, but over religion in general. It's here that Wilson begins to make unsupported assertions, and his cultured presuppositions begin to show through.
For instance, Wilson spends a bit of time describing how Charles Darwin forsook "blind faith" for a rather benign agnosticism during his voyage on the Beagle, the ramifications of which were immense:
The great naturalist did not abandon Abrahamic and other religious dogmas because of his discovery of evolution by natural selection, as one might reasonably suppose. The reverse occurred. The shedding of blind faith gave him the intellectual fearlessness to explore human evolution wherever logic and evidence took him.
It would be nice for Wilson to unpack just what, exactly, he means by "blind faith." Given the above quotation, it would seem that blind faith is not coterminous with scientific inquiry; the former is a means of acquiring knowledge that is built on swiftly-eroding sands of irrationality, while the latter is built on the rock of empirical "evidence" and "logic." "Faith," as defined by Wilson, is an affront to the truth-seeking project of the scientific method, because it is not based on the same epistemological foundation. Thus, in order to rightly ascertain truth, one must discard "blind faith."
But why think a thing like that? Why should one accept such a definition of faith? Why suppose that faith always stands in the way of scientific inquiry? Certainly there are a great number of faithful Phd biologists the world over who experience no cognitive dissonance between their professed "faith" and their disciplinary practice. Are we to presume that such people are merely ignoring a glaring problem or conflict in their lives?
Also, why should the word "blind" be tacked onto "faith?" This is nothing more than a linguistic sleight of hand meant to portray faith as something absurd and easily refutable. It essentially caricatures all faith as being a retreat into a fideistic cave, where the "faith-full" sit, shrouded in a darkness that shields their eyes from the noonday brightness of scientific discovery. Certainly, this caricature is wholly inappropriate - no evidence I've ever encountered has provided a sufficient logical or evidential defeater for faith as a reasonable, legitimate epistemology. What is more, if faith is formed in an environment conducive to free inquiry and uncoerced learning, by a cognitive faculty that is oriented towards "truth," and in consideration of all the "facts," then such faith is anything but "blind." In fact, it's quite rational and sensible.
There's plenty more that can be said about the rationality of faith, but it's exam week and I've bigger issues to chew on. Regardless, it bothers me to see people play faith and science off against each other, as if the two cannot be reconciled. Such binaristic thinking is the product of oversimplification and mischaracterization, not rigorous thought.
Wilson goes on to trot out the rather obvious point that
There is something deep in religious belief that divides people and amplifies societal conflict.
I'm sure that Wilson, being the sensible evolutionist that he is, would concur that religious beliefs and practices are essentially the external manifestation of deep-seated (and naturally selected) human tendencies towards tribalism, competition between groups, and other such tendencies. These traits may have been beneficial toward our surival at one point in history, but as Sam Harris would argue, they become unseemly in an age where our tribal differences can be sorted out with nuclear bombs. That religious beliefs and their accompanying negative behavior persist to this day is a bad thing, says Wilson, and perhaps it is time for us to take
seriously the alternative view, that humanism based on science is the effective antidote, the light and the way at last placed before us.
Wilson doesn't explain what this scientific humanism looks like, but I probably shouldn't expect him to do so in such a short piece. Still, one can rightly wonder at why Wilson may place such confidence in scientific humanism, or more specifically in scientific humanism as opposed to religion.
If religion is merely the outward manifestation of human behavioral traits - traits that have been stewing in the evolutionary crockpot for eons - then why should we suppose that the removal of religion from our lives will be a boon to our existence? With religion gone, won't these ingrained traits merely surface in another fashion? Why should we suppose that the ethic of scientific humanism will be any more effective in restraining these negative traits than the ethic of a particular religious system? Wilson seems to believe that what we know about evolution places us on the shining path of scientific humanism. I'm inclined to think that what we know about evolution does no such thing; it only illuminates the obdurate fatalism that so influences our lives.
Though Wilson trumpets the supremacy of the scientfic method, his affirmation of scientific humanism isn't grounded in that epistemic base. In fact, the ideology that germinates his confidence sounds a lot like an Enlightenment idea of progress -- the belief that reason and rationality provide us with the means to realize a brighter and better tomorrow. Given that such an idea emerged out of the ignorance and superstition of medieval Europe, one cannot fault the Enlightenment thinkers for being so optimistic. But here in 2005, when one considers the horrors of the past century, affirming such an idea seems careless and contrary to the evidence (hey! that sounds like "blind faith"). If Wilson yearns for the day when humans are no longer encumbered by such blindness, perhaps he could speed up the process by removing the glaring version of it in his own heart.
In the introduction, Wilson rightly excoriates the naivety of those who espouse a simplistic (and perhaps decidedly American) understanding of human origins. He also laments the tenacity with which the creationist agenda has dug in and held on to the minds of those setting the curriculums for highschool science classes. The legitimacy and pervasiveness that creationist ideology enjoys is certainly an affront to the discipline of science, for it violates the (probably correct) presumption of methodological naturalism that is essential to the proper, empirical conduct of scientific inquiry. With this in mind, it seems clear that those seeking a rigorous explanation of the natural processes of the universe would be mistaken if they turned to Moses for an answer. The great theologians of the early church knew that - neither Origen nor Augustine advocated a literalist reading of Genesis. Centuries later, John Calvin enjoined those interested in such pursuits to seek the counsel of the scientists of their day. Therefore, belief in a six-day creation is not only bad science, it's a misuse of Genesis cosmogony and thus bad theology as well. In fact, one might go so far as to say that to use Genesis as a scientific "textbook" that describes how things came to be does a great disservice to the complexity of the Genesis as literature. Genesis is a strange piece of writing, fraught with wonder and mystery; in it abounds greater things than mere taxonomy and history.
Then again, perhaps it's a rather useless endeavor to waste words on the creationists. It certainly doesn't take a great feat of intellect to disabuse their ideology of its legitimacy (though many still cling to it in the teeth of such evidence to the contrary). I'm sure Wilson would concur that having to refute creationists is an unfortunate diversion of mental energy away from more important questions about the way things are.
Luckily for this particular post, Wilson doesn't end his article immediately after decrying the creationist agenda. He continues, touting not only the triumph of science over creationism, but over religion in general. It's here that Wilson begins to make unsupported assertions, and his cultured presuppositions begin to show through.
For instance, Wilson spends a bit of time describing how Charles Darwin forsook "blind faith" for a rather benign agnosticism during his voyage on the Beagle, the ramifications of which were immense:
The great naturalist did not abandon Abrahamic and other religious dogmas because of his discovery of evolution by natural selection, as one might reasonably suppose. The reverse occurred. The shedding of blind faith gave him the intellectual fearlessness to explore human evolution wherever logic and evidence took him.
It would be nice for Wilson to unpack just what, exactly, he means by "blind faith." Given the above quotation, it would seem that blind faith is not coterminous with scientific inquiry; the former is a means of acquiring knowledge that is built on swiftly-eroding sands of irrationality, while the latter is built on the rock of empirical "evidence" and "logic." "Faith," as defined by Wilson, is an affront to the truth-seeking project of the scientific method, because it is not based on the same epistemological foundation. Thus, in order to rightly ascertain truth, one must discard "blind faith."
But why think a thing like that? Why should one accept such a definition of faith? Why suppose that faith always stands in the way of scientific inquiry? Certainly there are a great number of faithful Phd biologists the world over who experience no cognitive dissonance between their professed "faith" and their disciplinary practice. Are we to presume that such people are merely ignoring a glaring problem or conflict in their lives?
Also, why should the word "blind" be tacked onto "faith?" This is nothing more than a linguistic sleight of hand meant to portray faith as something absurd and easily refutable. It essentially caricatures all faith as being a retreat into a fideistic cave, where the "faith-full" sit, shrouded in a darkness that shields their eyes from the noonday brightness of scientific discovery. Certainly, this caricature is wholly inappropriate - no evidence I've ever encountered has provided a sufficient logical or evidential defeater for faith as a reasonable, legitimate epistemology. What is more, if faith is formed in an environment conducive to free inquiry and uncoerced learning, by a cognitive faculty that is oriented towards "truth," and in consideration of all the "facts," then such faith is anything but "blind." In fact, it's quite rational and sensible.
There's plenty more that can be said about the rationality of faith, but it's exam week and I've bigger issues to chew on. Regardless, it bothers me to see people play faith and science off against each other, as if the two cannot be reconciled. Such binaristic thinking is the product of oversimplification and mischaracterization, not rigorous thought.
Wilson goes on to trot out the rather obvious point that
There is something deep in religious belief that divides people and amplifies societal conflict.
I'm sure that Wilson, being the sensible evolutionist that he is, would concur that religious beliefs and practices are essentially the external manifestation of deep-seated (and naturally selected) human tendencies towards tribalism, competition between groups, and other such tendencies. These traits may have been beneficial toward our surival at one point in history, but as Sam Harris would argue, they become unseemly in an age where our tribal differences can be sorted out with nuclear bombs. That religious beliefs and their accompanying negative behavior persist to this day is a bad thing, says Wilson, and perhaps it is time for us to take
seriously the alternative view, that humanism based on science is the effective antidote, the light and the way at last placed before us.
Wilson doesn't explain what this scientific humanism looks like, but I probably shouldn't expect him to do so in such a short piece. Still, one can rightly wonder at why Wilson may place such confidence in scientific humanism, or more specifically in scientific humanism as opposed to religion.
If religion is merely the outward manifestation of human behavioral traits - traits that have been stewing in the evolutionary crockpot for eons - then why should we suppose that the removal of religion from our lives will be a boon to our existence? With religion gone, won't these ingrained traits merely surface in another fashion? Why should we suppose that the ethic of scientific humanism will be any more effective in restraining these negative traits than the ethic of a particular religious system? Wilson seems to believe that what we know about evolution places us on the shining path of scientific humanism. I'm inclined to think that what we know about evolution does no such thing; it only illuminates the obdurate fatalism that so influences our lives.
Though Wilson trumpets the supremacy of the scientfic method, his affirmation of scientific humanism isn't grounded in that epistemic base. In fact, the ideology that germinates his confidence sounds a lot like an Enlightenment idea of progress -- the belief that reason and rationality provide us with the means to realize a brighter and better tomorrow. Given that such an idea emerged out of the ignorance and superstition of medieval Europe, one cannot fault the Enlightenment thinkers for being so optimistic. But here in 2005, when one considers the horrors of the past century, affirming such an idea seems careless and contrary to the evidence (hey! that sounds like "blind faith"). If Wilson yearns for the day when humans are no longer encumbered by such blindness, perhaps he could speed up the process by removing the glaring version of it in his own heart.
I can never understand the type of argument of "You're arguing against science using religious grounds, which is bad logic, but now I'm going to argue against religion using my scientific grounds" or vice versa. Scientists (while they can be and often are religious) are not the best theologians, and theologians (while they can be and often are fans of science) are not the best scientists. Or I should rather say that a person can be both a theologian and a scientist, but they have to use different types of argument and evidence when wearing each hat.
Evolution (and scientific thought in general) and Christianity have coexisted in my head for quite some time, now, and my brain has yet to fall out of my ears.
Can you tell I just graded lots of papers with lots of logical fallacies in them? When I'm Queen of the World, I'm going to require that we put the "rhetoric" back into rhetoric and composition classes, and also require that everyone take classes in both logic and ethics. Our arguments will then be more useful and more fun.
Posted by
Meredith |
3:41 AM
science is the captured territory of philosophy, to quote Durant (pardon me) - and metaphysical questions aren't quite within it's juristiction. did i spell that right? Dang Brian, I keep having to print out your posts and take them to the cafe. Not that that's a bad thing. cheers.
Posted by
bnjmn |
1:16 AM