By Rich Deem

Copernicus was the Polish astronomer who put forward the first mathematically based system of planets going around the sun. He attended various European universities, and became a Canon in the Catholic church in 1497. His new system was actually first presented in the Vatican gardens in 1533 before Pope Clement VII who approved, and urged Copernicus to publish it around this time. Copernicus was never under any threat of religious persecution - and was urged to publish both by Catholic Bishop Guise, Cardinal Schonberg, and the Protestant Professor George Rheticus. Copernicus referred sometimes to God in his works, and did not see his system as in conflict with the Bible.

By Stephen Meyer, Ph.D.

In a recent volume of the Vienna Series in a Theoretical Biology (2003), Gerd B. Muller and Stuart Newman argue that what they call the “origination of organismal form” remains an unsolved problem. In making this claim, Muller and Newman (2003:3-10) distinguish two distinct issues, namely, (1) the causes of form generation in the individual organism during embryological development and (2) the causes responsible for the production of novel organismal forms in the first place during the history of life. To distinguish the latter case (phylogeny) from the former (ontogeny), Muller and Newman use the term “origination” to designate the causal processes by which biological form first arose during the evolution of life. They insist that “the molecular mechanisms that bring about biological form in modern day embryos should not be confused” with the causes responsible for the origin (or “origination”) of novel biological forms during the history of life (p.3). They further argue that we know more about the causes of ontogenesis, due to advances in molecular biology, molecular genetics and developmental biology, than we do about the causes of phylogenesis–the ultimate origination of new biological forms during the remote past.

In making this claim, Muller and Newman are careful to affirm that evolutionary biology has succeeded in explaining how preexisting forms diversify under the twin influences of natural selection and variation of genetic traits. Sophisticated mathematically-based models of population genetics have proven adequate for mapping and understanding quantitative variability and populational changes in organisms. Yet Muller and Newman insist that population genetics, and thus evolutionary biology, has not identified a specifically causal explanation for the origin of true morphological novelty during the history of life. Central to their concern is what they see as the inadequacy of the variation of genetic traits as a source of new form and structure. They note, following Darwin himself, that the sources of new form and structure must precede the action of natural selection (2003:3)–that selection must act on what already exists. Yet, in their view, the “genocentricity” and “incrementalism” of the neo-Darwinian mechanism has meant that an adequate source of new form and structure has yet to be identified by theoretical biologists. Instead, Muller and Newman see the need to identify epigenetic sources of morphological innovation during the evolution of life. In the meantime, however, they insist neo-Darwinism lacks any “theory of the generative” (p. 7).

As it happens, Muller and Newman are not alone in this judgment. In the last decade or so a host of scientific essays and books have questioned the efficacy of selection and mutation as a mechanism for generating morphological novelty, as even a brief literature survey will establish. Thomson (1992:107) expressed doubt that large-scale morphological changes could accumulate via minor phenotypic changes at the population genetic level. Miklos (1993:29) argued that neo-Darwinism fails to provide a mechanism that can produce large-scale innovations in form and complexity. Gilbert et al. (1996) attempted to develop a new theory of evolutionary mechanisms to supplement classical neo-Darwinism, which, they argued, could not adequately explain macroevolution. As they put it in a memorable summary of the situation: “starting in the 1970s, many biologists began questioning its (neo-Darwinism’s) adequacy in explaining evolution. Genetics might be adequate for explaining microevolution, but microevolutionary changes in gene frequency were not seen as able to turn a reptile into a mammal or to convert a fish into an amphibian. Microevolution looks at adaptations that concern the survival of the fittest, not the arrival of the fittest. As Goodwin (1995) points out, ‘the origin of species–Darwin’s problem–remains unsolved’“ (p. 361). Though Gilbert et al. (1996) attempted to solve the problem of the origin of form by proposing a greater role for developmental genetics within an otherwise neo-Darwinian framework,¹ numerous recent authors have continued to raise questions about the adequacy of that framework itself or about the problem of the origination of form generally (Webster & Goodwin 1996; Shubin & Marshall 2000; Erwin 2000; Conway Morris 2000, 2003b; Carroll 2000; Wagner 2001; Becker & Lonnig 2001; Stadler et al. 2001; Lonnig & Saedler 2002; Wagner & Stadler 2003; Valentine 2004:189-194).

What lies behind this skepticism? Is it warranted? Is a new and specifically causal theory needed to explain the origination of biological form?

Click here for the full article and active footnotes.

By Jeff Zweerink, Ph.D.

A number of scientific themes run through the recently released movie Angels & Demons. The popular, but misguided, notion of a perpetual conflict between science and religion (the Roman Catholic church in this instance) provides much of the narrative. Part of this conflict centers on a plot to blow up the Vatican with an antimatter bomb. Just a quarter of a gram (less than the mass of a paper clip) of antimatter making contact with ordinary matter would unleash an explosion similar to those produced by the atomic bombs used to end World War II.

The destructive potential of an antimatter bomb arises from its interaction with normal matter. Whenever a particle contacts its antiparticle, the two annihilate and convert their mass into pure energy. Einstein’s famous equation, E = mc², tells us that the energy released is the mass of the particles times the speed of light squared. Thus, a small bit of mass converts into an enormous amount of energy. Fortunately, everywhere scientists look in the cosmos, they see only matter. Even powerful and sophisticated telescopes detect only trace amounts of antimatter. While this lack of antimatter in the universe bodes well for life (typically the energy released comes in the form of x–rays and gamma rays), it poses a problem for understanding the cosmos.

Here’s why. Scientists regularly make extremely small quantities of antimatter by colliding high–energy particles at accelerators like the Large Hadron Collider (LHC). Studies based on those collisions demonstrate that almost all known physical processes produce equal amounts of matter and antimatter. These same processes govern the universe back to the earliest moments after the big bang. So, how did those processes lead to a universe containing only matter? Where did all the antimatter go?

Particle physicists recognize some processes that generate slightly more matter than antimatter. In technical terms, those processes violate a symmetry known as “CP–symmetry”. In a nutshell, a process obeys CP–symmetry if its results are identical after changing all particle positions to a mirror image and changing all particles to their antiparticles. CP–symmetry–violating processes can produce an excess of matter because they treat particles and antiparticles differently.

Cosmologists can explain the lack of antimatter in the universe if enough CP–symmetry violation occurred shortly after the big bang, resulting in more matter than antimatter. After the excess was produced and the universe cooled more, all the antimatter would have been annihilated with the normal matter, leaving a residue of matter and energy. Calculations show that it would take roughly one extra matter particle for every billion matter/antimatter pairs to generate the matter density of our universe.

One aspect of this explanation that troubles physicists is that the nature of the CP–symmetry violation seems unusual. In other words, its value differs from the theoretically expected value. If the symmetry–breaking were more in line with the expected value, the universe would contain too little matter for life to arise. This indicates fine–tuning in the amount of CP–symmetry violation.

However, fine–tuning implies an Agent external to the universe (that is, a supernatural Agent) was involved in its origin and development. Recent research, which I will discuss next week, reveals that the CP–symmetry violation fine–tuning may be “solved” given the masses of the most fundamental particles known to physicists: quarks. But this solution simply moves the fine–tuning to a different part of the model, namely the quark masses.

By David H. Rogstad, Ph.D.

The intricate design present in biological systems never ceases to amaze. A few months ago I wrote about molecular motors present in biological cells and how they are giving insight to researchers in nanotechnology, either providing them with improved motor designs or actual devices to use in driving man-made miniature machines. In addition, Fuz Rana’s recently released book, The Cell’s Design, is filled with examples of similar biochemical design taken from all areas of cell function.

Scientists have known for some time about the design of the flagellum, the tiny corkscrew-like propeller and motor that some bacteria use for locomotion. With a stator, rotor, shaft, bushings, and a universal joint, this microscopic motor looks a lot like those that engineers design for running our home appliances, such as refrigerators and vacuum cleaners.

Recently, researchers discovered that the flagellum motor in the bacterium Bacillus subtilis also has a clutch that allows the rotor to disengage. Reporting in the latest issue of Science (see a press release here), a research team from Indiana University Bloomington and Harvard University led by biologist Daniel Kearns learned of this capability by accident. Kearns and colleagues were actually interested in how B. subtilis ceased its wandering activity when it took up residence in stationary assemblages called biofilms. The stability of a biofilm can be jeopardized if the flagella continued to spin. Understanding biofilm formation may prove useful in combating infections.

When the scientists realized that a particular protein, EpsE, was involved in repressing the flagellar motion, they proposed two possible explanations. One was that the EpsE acted as a brake, locking up the moving and nonmoving parts; the other was that EpsE worked like a clutch, disengaging the parts from each other. They were able to devise an experiment where the tail end of the flagellum was attached to a glass slide. They observed what happened in the presence and absence of EpsE. Since the cells stopped but could still rotate passively in the presence of EpsE, they concluded that it functioned as a clutch.

“We think it’s pretty cool that evolving bacteria and human engineers arrived at a similar solution to the same problem,” said Kearns. “How do you temporarily stop a motor once it gets going?”

Their press release concluded: “The discovery may give nanotechnologists ideas about how to regulate tiny engines of their own creation. The flagellum is one of nature’s smallest and most powerful motors—ones like those produced by B. subtilis can rotate more than 200 times per second, driven by 1,400 piconewton-nanometers of torque. That’s quite a bit of (miniature) horsepower for a machine whose width stretches only a few dozen nanometers.”

While these scientists attribute this remarkable capability to an evolutionary process, in light of the superior design in evidence, it seems far more likely that it reveals the hand of a Master Designer.

By Dan Peterson   

Imagine a nanotechnology machine far beyond the state of the art: a microminiaturized rotary motor and propeller system that drives a tiny vessel through liquid. The engine and drive mechanism are composed of 40 parts, including a rotor, stator, driveshaft, bushings, universal joint, and flexible propeller. The engine is powered by a flow of ions, can rotate at up to 100,000 rpm (ten times faster than a NASCAR racing engine), and can reverse direction in a quarter of a rotation. The system comes with an automatic feedback control mechanism. The engine itself is about 1/100,000th of an inch wide — far smaller than can be seen by the human eye.

Most of us would be pleasantly surprised to learn that some genius had designed such an engineering triumph. What might come as a greater surprise is that there is a dominant faction in the scientific community that is prepared to defend, at all costs, the assertion that this marvelous device could not possibly have been designed, must have been produced blindly by unintelligent material forces, and only gives the appearance — we said appearance! — of being designed.

As you may have guessed, these astonishingly complex, tiny, and efficient engines exist. Millions of them exist inside you, in fact. They are true rotary motors that drive the bacterial flagellum, a whip-like propulsion device for certain bacteria, including the famous E. coli that lives in your digestive system.

Oddly enough, this intricate high-speed motor is at the center of a controversy that has been kindling in scientific circles for a decade, and is now igniting hot debate outside those circles. That’s because, even more oddly, the implications of whether this little engine was designed are incalculably profound. They involve questions such as: What constitutes science? Did living things “just happen” by natural causes or were they designed by an intelligence? And what follows from those two competing alternatives — in morality, education, culture, and science itself?

By Wayne Jackson 

With a cultic-like aura surrounding them, these men and women are seen as the paragons of virtue in the intellectual community. They are a priesthood, arrayed in white apparel, tinkering with test tubes and peering through microscopes in a sophisticated “holy of holies.”

I am speaking, of course, of the twentieth century scientist. He is not to be questioned as he pontificates upon matters that have baffled the intellects of the ages. His dogmatic theories are sacrosanct, and never are his motives suspect. Though this is quite a common notion in today’s world, it is woefully inaccurate. While it is true that there are many honest people working in the various fields of science, it also is only fair to point out that there have been, and likely will continue to be, some real charlatans in the scientific community. Consider, for example the following.

“Exalted views of the objectivity of science and scientists were shattered recently when the New Scientist reported in its November, 1976 issue on the results of a survey it conducted on the subject of “Cheating in Science.” Out of 204 scientists replying to the journal’s questionnaire, 197 reported they were aware of cheating by their colleagues. They judged that 58% of the cheating was intentional, and they reported that only 10% of these intentional cheaters were dismissed; most of them, in fact, were promoted” (Koshy, 1977, p. 86).

Two of the more notorious instances of scientific fraud provide an interesting and valuable case study in this regard.

The Embryonic Recapitulation Hoax

Ernst Heinrich Haeckel (1834-1919) was a German biologist and philosopher who asserted that the entire Universe (including the human mind) was the result of solely material processes — a mere machine in motion. He was a devoted follower of Charles Darwin — so much so, in fact, that he was dubbed “the apostle of Darwinism in Germany.”

Haeckel received most of his fame as a consequence of his popularization of the so-called “theory of embryonic recapitulation.” This is the now-defunct notion that successive stages of individual embryonic development repeat the evolutionary stages of one’s animal ancestry. The argument is entirely specious, as even evolutionists have admitted. Famed Harvard evolutionist George Gaylord Simpson wrote, for example: “It is now firmly established that ontogeny [development of the individual — WJ] does not repeat phylogeny [development of the race — WJ]” (1957, p. 352).

In any case, Haeckel had a passion for promoting the recapitulation theory, which he termed “the fundamental biogenetic law.” And, as one writer has noted:

“To support his theory, however, Haeckel, whose knowledge of embryology was self-taught, faked some of his evidence. He not only altered his illustrations of embryos but also printed the same plate of an embryo three times, and labeled one a human, the second a dog and the third a rabbit ‘to show their similarity’” (Bowden, 1977, p. 128).

Haeckel was exposed by professor L. Rutimeyer of Basle University. He was charged with fraud by five professors, and ultimately convicted in a university court. During the trial, Haeckel admitted that he had altered his drawings, but sought to defend himself by saying:

“I should feel utterly condemned and annihilated by the admission, were it not that hundreds of the best observers and biologists lie under the same charge. The great majority of all morphological, anatomical, histological, and embryological diagrams are not true to nature, but are more or less doctored, schematized and reconstructed” (as quoted in Bowden, 1977, p. 128).

Not only did Haeckel misrepresent evidence in his own drawings, but even “went so far as to alter pictures of embryos drawn by others. A professor Arnold Bass charged that Haeckel had made changes in pictures of embryos that he (Bass) had drawn. Haeckel’s reply to these charges was that if he is to be accused of falsifying drawings, many other prominent scientists should be accused of the same thing . . .” (Davidheiser, 1969, p. 76).

Evolutionist H.H. Newman of the University of Chicago said that Haeckel’s works “did more harm than good to Darwinism” (1932, p. 30). Yet in spite of the fact that Haeckel’s drawings proved to be an embarrassment to the evolutionary establishment, they still are employed in some modern writings as a “proof” of the accuracy of the theory of evolution (e.g., see Asimov, 1981, p. 83).

The Piltdown Hoax

In December of 1912, Charles Dawson, an amateur archaeologist, and Sir Arthur Smith Woodward of the British Museum of Natural History, announced that they had discovered a man-like skull in a pit near Piltdown, England. Along with the skull was a jawbone that appeared to be very ape-like except for the teeth — which were more flattened, as would be expected in humans. Working with Dawson and Woodward was Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, a Jesuit priest in his late 20s who labored incessantly to harmonize evolution and the biblical record of creation.

Although a few scientists questioned the association of the skull with the jaw, most evolutionists were convinced that Eanthropus dawsoni (or, as he was more commonly known, “Piltdown Man”) was an authentic link in human evolution. It has been estimated that some 500 publications appeared on this subject. It is a curious thing, however, that the bones were kept under tight security — even from evolutionists. Sir Arthur Keith, an eminent British authority in this field, was allowed to view the fossils for only twenty minutes, and was forced henceforth to work with plaster casts of the originals (see Weiner, 1955, p. 121). The famous anthropologist, L.S.B. Leakey also complained that he was denied access to the fossils (Leakey, 1960, p. vi.).

By 1950, a dating method [that employed fluorine] had become available for assigning a relative age to fossil bones. In 1953, after a series of tests, it was determined that the Piltdown skull and jaw were of completely different ages. The skull was a few thousand years old (not one million as formerly alleged), and the jaw bone was that of a modern ape! As a consequence of this startling revelation, a careful study of the bones was begun. Eventually, it was discovered that the teeth had been ground down artificially to appear human — and that it had been a sloppy job at that. Abrasion marks were still evident, the surfaces were flattened at different angles, etc. Moreover, as a result of chemical tests, it was determined that the jaw bone had been stained chemically with potassium bichromate and iron salts for the purpose of making it appear ancient. Actually the “fossil” turned out to be nothing more than a human skull with an ape’s jaw attached. Someone had really been “monkeying” (forgive the pun) with the evidence.

But who was the perpetrator of this elaborate fraud? S.J. Weiner of Oxford University, who was instrumental in the exposure of the hoax, suggested (without making any formal accusation) that the weight of the evidence pointed in the direction of Dawson — although he did allow that perhaps Dawson himself was a victim of this devious scheme. The renowned United Nations scientist, A.E. Wilder-Smith, though again making no formal charge, commented:

“It does strike one as remarkable that Professor Smith-Woodward allowed very few other scientists to study the original skull or even to handle it. Plaster casts were always made and the studies carried out with their aid. Plaster casts, however, do not give the very fine details needed for study, nor can one determine with their help whether a find is a fossil or not. Even more important, no one can analyze a skull chemically with only a plaster cast to work with!” (1968, p. 133).

More recently, in a scholarly investigation of the available data, Malcolm Bowden concluded that Teilhard de Chardin was likely the culprit (1977). Teilhard certainly had the motive because, as far as he was concerned, all views should bow to evolution which he viewed as “the light illuminating all facts” (1963, p. 44). Moreover, he had the the opportunity, since several of the fake finds were “discovered” by him. Also, he had the technical expertise to pull off such an elaborate ruse. He had taught chemistry (a knowledge of which would be essential in staining the fossils) at Cairo University.

Perhaps as embarrassing as the fraudulent nature of the Piltdown affair, however, was the fact that a number of the world’s leading evolutionary experts were fooled by the hoax for over 40 years. Dogmatic, sweeping statements that had been made with an air of absolute confidence ultimately required public retraction. Such was the concern in England that a motion was made (and tabled) in the House of Commons “that the House has no confidence in the Trustees of the British Museum . . . because of the tardiness of their discovery that the skull of the Piltdown man is a partial fake” (see Bowden, 1977, p. 8). Duane T. Gish no doubt expressed the sentiments of many when he wrote: “The success of this monumental hoax served to demonstrate that scientists, just like everyone else, are very prone to find what they are looking for whether it is there or not” (1973, p. 92).

There is an important lesson that many Christians need to learn from situations such as these. There is no need to be intimidated by the so-called “discoveries” of an unbelieving world. Not all these discoveries are fraudulent, of course, but they nevertheless are subject to the interpretation placed on them by the discoverer. This, at the very least, should suggest caution in accepting the claims that evolutionists make from time to time.

Sources

Asimov, Isaac (1981), “The Genesis War,” Science Digest, 89⁹:82-87, October. [NOTE: This is a written debate with creationist Duane T. Gish.]

Bowden, Malcolm (1977), Ape-Men: Fact or Fallacy? (Bromley, England: Sovereign Publications).

Davidheiser, Bolton (1969), Evolution And Christian Faith (Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed).

de Chardin, Teilhard (1963), Saturday Evening Post, October 12.

Gish, Duane T. (1973), Evolution: The Fossils Say No! (San Diego, CA: Creation-Life Publishers).

Koshy, George (1977), A Challenge to Biology (Minneapolis, MN: Bible-Science Association).

Leakey, L.S.B. (1960), Adam’s Ancestors (New York: Harper & Brothers).

Newman, H.H. (1932 – 3rd edition), Evolution, Genetics, and Eugenics (Chicago: University of Chicago Press).

Simpson, George Gaylord (1957), Life: An Introduction to Biology (New York: Harcourt, Brace & Co.).

Weiner, S.J. (1955), The Piltdown Forgery (Oxford, England: Oxford University Press).

Wilder-Smith, A.E. (1968), Man’s Origin: Man’s Destiny (Wheaton, IL: Harold Shaw).

By Kenneth Samples, M.Th.
Part Three of Three

Religious ideas have no place in science!

While ardent secularists often express this sentiment today, the historical roots of modern science are deeply tied to religion in general and to Christianity in particular.

Christianity uniquely and decisively shaped the intellectual climate that gave rise to modern science (roughly three and a half centuries ago). It is even correct to say that modern science was born in the cradle of Christian civilization. Not only were virtually all of the founding fathers of science devout Christians (including Copernicus, Kepler, Galileo, Newton, Boyle, Steno, Pascal, Faraday, and Mendel), but the Christian worldview provided a basis for modern science to emerge and flourish. In effect, the Christian worldview supported the underlying principles that made scientific inquiry both possible and desirable.

The Christian cultural perspective provided the philosophical framework that was needed to launch science—a necessary conceptual structure that was conspicuously absent from other influential cultures of the past.

Renown physicist and popular science writer Paul Davies traces some of Christianity’s impact upon modern science in his Templeton Prize address “Physics and the Mind of God:”

“In the ensuing three hundred years the theological dimension of science has faded. People take it for granted that the physical world is both ordered and intelligible… . However, even the most atheistic scientist accepts as an act of faith that the universe is not absurd, that there is a rational basis to physical existence manifested as lawlike order in nature that is at least in part comprehensible to us. So science can proceed only if the scientist adopts an essentially theological worldview.”

Since modern science arose from within the matrix of Christian theism (in 17th century Europe), couldn’t theologians legitimately comment on the theological foundations of science without being formally trained in the natural sciences? Of course they can!

When secularists assert that religious ideas have no place in science, they seem blatantly unaware of the historical role that Christian theology played in shaping, encouraging, and sustaining the general character and presuppositions of modern science.

While some declare that only scientists are qualified to speak about science, this claim is deeply shortsighted. The modern scientific enterprise depends upon philosophical, logical, mathematical, and theological assumptions, therefore certain well-informed nonscientists may have important things to say about science without themselves being trained scientists.

Unfortunately, too many scientists and nonscientists fail to appreciate the message that historians and philosophers of science have to convey about how the powerful scientific enterprise arose. Not to mention the necessary philosophical and theological assumptions needed to sustain it.

For an introduction to the philosophy of science from a Christian perspective, see Del Ratzsch, Science & Its Limits: The Natural Sciences in Christian Perspective.

To trace the historical connection between science and religion, see Alister E. McGrath, Science & Religion: An Introduction.

For an essay on science’s relationship to historic Christianity, see chapter 14 of my book Without a Doubt: Answering the 20 Toughest Faith Questions.

Earth’s biosphere is poised between a runaway freeze-up and a runaway evaporation. If the mean temperature of the earth’s surface cools by even a few degrees, more snow and ice than normal will form. Snow and ice reflect solar energy much more efficiently than other surface materials. The reflection of more solar energy translates into lower surface temperatures, which in turn cause more snow and ice to form and subsequently still lower temperatures.

If the mean temperature of the earth’s surface warms just a few degrees, more water vapor and carbon dioxide collect in the atmosphere. This extra water vapor and carbon dioxide create a better greenhouse effect in the atmosphere. This in turn causes the surface temperature to rise again, which releases even more water vapor and carbon dioxide into the atmosphere resulting in still higher surface temperatures.

Hugh Ross, Ph.D., The Creator and the Cosmos (2001)

By Kenneth Samples, M.Th.
Part Two of Three

I once heard a scientist say the following:

Only scientists are qualified to speak about matters of science.

Understood in a general sense, this point seems reasonable. For example, for a person to comment intelligently about a field of study one would expect that person to be adequately acquainted with that particular discipline. Since the various fields of science are highly specialized, rigorous training is often required to obtain a mastery of a given scientific discipline. This is, of course, why RTB employs highly trained scientists to work on the scholar team of a science apologetics organization.

However, as I pointed out in part one of this series, to assert that only scientists can speak intelligently about science ignores the reality that the scientific enterprise itself involves many assumptions that are not technically part of the natural sciences.

Some of these philosophical presuppositions foundational to the study of science include: (1) the existence of an objectively real cosmos; (2) the comprehensibility of that cosmos; (3) the general reliability of sense perception and human rationality; (4) the uniformity of the laws of nature; and (5) the validity of mathematics and logic.

Given these philosophical assumptions, philosophers of science potentially have much to say of vital importance concerning the nature of the scientific enterprise. In addition, mathematicians and logicians can authoritatively comment on scientific matters. In fact, the scientific enterprise is directly dependent upon the soundness of mathematics and logic.

When I listen to my scientifically trained friends at RTB talk about their fields, I note how the claims of science often come down to the issue of who has the best argument. Whose model best explains the data? Whose model has the superior explanatory power? These are specifically issues of logic and argumentation.

Even Charles Darwin’s theory of evolution was essentially an inference to the best explanation type of logical argument. Deciding whether some form of creationism or naturalistic evolution is best supported by the scientific data involves something like an abductive form of logical reasoning.

Could not logicians appropriately comment about the arguments made by scientists without themselves being formally trained in a given scientific discipline? Of course they can!

Could not lawyers, familiar with the use of arguments and evidence, also carefully evaluate scientists’ conclusions and conceivably add something significant? Yes.

Good science involves very specialized learning. But it also involves careful thinking. When it comes to thinking, some nonscientists can indeed speak intelligently to important aspects of science.

In the next installment of this series I will raise the issue as to whether theology has anything of importance to contribute to matters of science.

Additional Resources:

1. For a detailed discussion of inference to the best explanation and abduction, see pages 39-54 of my new book A World of Difference: Putting Christian Truth-Claims to the Worldview Test.
2. For a legal expert’s analysis of Darwinian evolution, see Philip E. Johnson, Darwin on Trial.
3. For an introduction to the philosophy of science from a Christian perspective, see Del Ratzsch, Science & Its Limits: The Natural Sciences in Christian Perspective.
4. For an essay on science’s relationship to historic Christianity, see chapter 14 of my book Without a Doubt: Answering the 20 Toughest Faith Questions.

By Henry F. Schaefer, III, Ph.D.

I first began teaching freshman chemistry at Berkeley in the spring of 1983. Typically we lectured in halls that held about 550. On the first day of class you could fit in 680, which we had that particular morning. It was a full auditorium. Those of you who have had freshman chemistry at a large university will know that many have mixed feelings about that course.

I had never addressed a group of 680 people before and was a bit concerned about it. But I had a fantastic demonstration prepared for them. At Berkeley in the physical science lecture hall, the stage is in three parts. It rotated around, so you could go to your part of the stage and work for several hours before your lecture, getting everything ready. My assistant, Lonny Martin who did all the chemistry demonstrations at Berkley, was in the process of setting up 10 moles of a large number of quantities — 10 moles of benzene, iron, mercury, ethyl alcohol, water, etc. At just the right time, at the grand crescendo of this lecture, I was going to press the button and Lonny would come turning around and show them the ten moles of various items. The student would have great insight as they realized that all these had in common was about the same number of molecules of each one.

It was going to be wonderful. We got to that point in the lecture and I said, “Lonny, come around and show us the moles.” I pressed the button to rotate the stage but nothing happened. I didn’t realize that he was overriding my button press because he wasn’t ready with the moles. This was very embarrassing. I went out in front of the 680 students and was really at a complete loss of what to say, so I made some unprepared remarks. I said, “While we’re waiting for the moles, let me tell you what happened to me in church yesterday morning.”

I was desperate. There was great silence among those 680 students. They had come with all manner of anticipations about freshman chemistry, but stories about church were not among them!

I continued, “Let me tell you what my Sunday School teacher said yesterday.” That raised their interest even more. “I was hoping the group at church would give me some support, moral, spiritual, or whatever for dealing with this large class, but I received none. In fact, the Sunday School teacher asked the class, in honor of me:

What was the difference between a dead dog lying in the middle of the street and a dead chemistry professor lying in the middle of the street

The class was excited about this and I hadn’t even gotten to the punch line. They roared with laughter. The very concept of a dead chemistry professor lying in the middle of the street was hilarious to them. I’m sure some of them began to think, “If this guy were to become a dead chemistry professor very close to the final exam, we probably wouldn’t have to take the final exam. They’d probably give us all passing grades and this would be wonderful.”

I told them my Sunday school teacher had said that the difference between the dead dog lying in the middle of the road and the dead chemistry professor lying in the middle of the road is that there are skid marks in front of the dead dog.

The class thought this was wonderful! Just as they settled down, I pressed the button and around came Lonny with the moles. It was a wonderful beginning to my career as a freshman chemistry lecturer.

About 50 students came down at the end of class. About half had the usual questions like “Which dot do I punch out of this registration card?” There is always some of that. But about half of these students all had something like the same question. Basically they wanted to know “What were you doing in church yesterday?” One in particular said, “The person I most have admired in my life was my high school chemistry teacher last year. He told me with great certainty that it was impossible to be a practicing chemist and have any religious view whatever. What do you think about that?”

We didn’t have a long discussion at that time, but the students asked me if I would speak further on this topic. That became the origin of this lecture.

I gave this talk in Berkeley and in the San Francisco area many times. When I moved to the University of Georgia several years ago, the interest increased. And some faculty members complained to the administration. It was an interesting chapter in my life. The Atlanta Journal and Constitution, the largest newspaper in the southeastern United States, came out with an editorial supporting my right to give this talk, saying, “Fanatics are demanding rigorous control over the dissemination of ideas.”

A Perspective on the Relation of Science and Christianity

Let’s put this question of the relationship between science and Christianity with as broadest, most reasonable perspective we can. The relation between science and other intellectual pursuits has not always been easy. Therefore, many feel there has been a terrible warfare between science and Christianity. But I feel this is not the whole story.

For example, the recent literature text by Susan Gallagher and Roger Lundeen says,

Because in recent history, literature has often found itself in opposition to science, to understand modern views about literature the dominance of science in our culture. For several centuries, scientists have set the standards of truth for Western culture. And their undeniable usefulness in helping us organize, analyze, and manipulate facts has given them an unprecedented importance in modern society.

Not everybody has liked that. For example, John Keats, the great romantic poet, did not like Isaac Newton’s view of reality. He said it threatened to destroy all the beauty in the universe. He feared that a world in which myths and poetic visions had vanished would become a barren and uninviting place. In his poem Lamia, he talks about this destructive power. In this poem, he calls “science” “philosophy”, so I will try to replace the word “philosophy” with “science” because that is what he means.

Do not all charms fly
At the mere touch of cold science?
There was an awful rainbow once in heaven
We knew her woof and texture.
She is given in the dull catalog of common things.
Science will clip an angels wings,
Conquer all mysteries by rule and line,
Empty the haunted air and gnome’s mind,
Unweave a rainbow.

My point is there has been some sparring between science and virtually every other intellectual endeavor. So it should not be entirely surprising if there weren’t a bit of that between science and Christianity.

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About the Author:  Dr. “Fritz” Schaefer is the Graham Perdue Professor of Chemistry and the director of the Center for Computational Quantum Chemistry at the University of Georgia. He has been nominated for the Nobel Prize and was recently cited as the third most quoted chemist in the world. “The significance and joy in my science comes in the occasional moments of discovering something new and saying to myself, ‘So that’s how God did it!’ My goal is to understand a little corner of God’s plan.” – U.S. News & World Report, Dec. 23, 1991.