I’ve long maintained that both the New Yorker and the New York Times are unconscionably soft on religion, even though I suspect that many of their writers and editors are atheists. (A welcome exception is Lawrence Krauss’s recent New Yorker essays on atheism, such as this one).
But the good gray Times remains a resolute “believer in belief”— even being accommodationist in their views about science and religion. In fact, a new Sunday Book Review piece by James Ryerson, a senior staff editor for the paper’s op-ed page, is explicit about it, as is clear from his title: “The twain shall meet.” The “twain”, of course, are science and religion. The essay simply rehashes the shopworn accommodationist tropes, so there are no new ideas. Ryerson simply trots out dubious claims to show that science and religion are harmonious.
You can intuit Ryerson’s biases from the outset, simply by the way he characterizes nonbelievers (my emphases):
In recent years, the scientists and polemicists known as the New Atheists have been telling a certain type of evolutionary story.
and
The real reason the New Atheists doubt the claims of religion, Jones contends, isn’t that religious beliefs have natural causes (what beliefs don’t?); it’s that these crusaders are convinced that science is the only arbiter of reality and truth.
Would Ryerson use words like that to describe passionately religious people? I don’t think so. At any rate, here are his tired talking points:
a. Just because religion had a tangible origin in human mentality (say, as the “agency detection device” touted by Pascal Boyer) doesn’t mean it’s wrong.
Research shows that children instinctively believe in God, but this doesn’t mean that Thomas Aquinas was just a big dumb kid. Religious convictions can be, and often are, shaped by sustained sophisticated reflection. The real reason the New Atheists doubt the claims of religion, Jones contends, isn’t that religious beliefs have natural causes (what beliefs don’t?); it’s that these crusaders are convinced that science is the only arbiter of reality and truth. They may be right about that. But that is a philosophical claim, Jones reminds us, not a scientific one.
Well, I agree with the claim in bold, but this doesn’t mean that religious beliefs are true, either! In fact, I’d maintain that the more science tells us about the evolutionary and psychological roots of religion, the less likely we can see religious belief as something given us by God (a common belief), or even as something that’s revealed to us by God. After all, different believers have different religious convictions. Are the beliefs of a moderate Sunni Muslim theologian correct, or are the beliefs of semi-liberal Catholic theologian John Haught? They can’t both be right, even if both are formed by “sustained Sophisticated Reflection™.” (How “sophisticated” can reflection be, anyway, if there’s no evidence for one’s beliefs?)
And really, Aquinas was smart and savvy, and may not have been a “big dumb kid”, but he was a big deluded kid. Aquinas, for instance, believed in many types of angels, and wrote extensively about their actions and nature (read his “Treatise on Angels” in Summa Theologica). I defy Ryerson to tell me why that’s “sophisticated”!
As for science being the “only arbiter of reality and truth”, which I pretty much believe, that may be a philosophical claim, but it smells like an empirical one; and at any rate I’ll deny it when Ryerson shows me how religion can be an arbiter of reality and truth. What has Sophisticated Reflection shown us to be true about God?
b. The conflicts between religion and science are exaggerated.
Also important to the New Atheist movement is the idea that religion and science are opposites, competing forms of inquiry that have been locked in a zero-sum struggle for supremacy. Many of the essays in the anthologyNEWTON’S APPLE AND OTHER MYTHS ABOUT SCIENCE (Harvard University, $27.95), edited by the historian of science Ronald L. Numbers and the researcher Kostas Kampourakis, challenge this dichotomy. To start with, the historical episodes commonly understood to be exemplars of this conflict — from Giordano Bruno’s execution as a scientific martyr to the uniformly hostile religious reception of Darwin’s “Origin of Species” — are frequently misunderstood or misrepresented. Copernicus’s heliocentric theory, for example, did not in fact threaten to demote the exalted place of humans in the universe: The Earth was previously thought to be at the center, i.e., in the gutter, of the world, where filth and disorder gathered. Nor did Copernicus or most other early modern advocates of the new astronomy think it was incompatible with Christianity.
Ronald Numbers has based his career on arguing that things like the Galileo affair and the Scopes trial weren’t “really about religion”, but were about politics and other stuff. And granted, there were other factors, but flatly denying that these episodes instantiated clashes between faith and science is to brand yourself as biased. (Notice that while Copernicus and Galileo may not have thought their views were in conflict with Christianity, the Pope sure did!) In addition, Ryerson conveniently leaves out the many ways that religion has opposed science and still does: the introduction, for instance, of vaccination, lightning rods, and anesthesia were fought by religion, and a fair amount of global-warming denialism still comes from the ambit of faith. And don’t forget the legal pass that Christian Scientists and other faith-healing sects get when they kill their children by neglecting medical care in favor or prayer. Or the fact that in 47 of the 50 states, you can avoid getting your child vaccinated by claiming religious exemption. (In only 20 states will a philosophical objection get you a pass.)
c. Religion gave rise to science and the scientific method.
Religious considerations have also influenced science in constructive ways, as the intellectual historian Peter Harrison notes in an essay about the “conflict myth.” The work of 17th-century figures like Johannes Kepler, Robert Boyle and Isaac Newton was informed by their religious thinking. The very notion of a “law of nature” was at first a theological idea. And even the experimental method itself may be indebted to theological notions of human nature that emphasize our intellectual and perceptual fallibility. Indeed, the “conflict” idea is fairly new: Historians trace it back only to the 19th century, though Harrison observes that many of its characteristic themes (ignorance versus knowledge, superstition versus rationality) appear in 17th-century Protestant polemics against Catholicism for being “anti-science.” Only the villain has changed.
I deal with these claims in Faith versus Fact, and the verdict is: we don’t know. Yes, surely some discoveries were prompted by numinous or goddy ideas, but against that we must see the way the medieval Church held back science. We have no idea whether science would be further along now had religion never existed. But what we can say is that, at present, religion isn’t palpably advancing science, since most good scientists are atheists—including 93% of the National Academy of Sciences in the US and 86% of the Royal Society. As for evolution education, there’s no doubt that religious views are holding as back. Finally, as for the experimental method resulting from theology, as a check on the fallacies of perception, well, Ryerson is just whistling in the dark. He’s making it up with no evidence to support his claim. That again shows his biases. And if the “conflict” idea is new, well, pretty much everyone in the West was religious a few centuries ago, so there was no soil in which that seed could sprout.
The rest of Ryerson’s essay is curiously disjointed, with some deprecatory remarks about intelligent design (Gad! He’d better!), and then a nod to a new book on science blogging.
The main incompatibility between science and religion is one to which Ryerson alludes but then ignores: which of the two areas (or both) are “arbiters of reality and truth”? To answer that one we can confidently claim that science is but religion isn’t, if for no other reason than that there’s only one brand of science, with most scientists agreeing on what’s true, but there are tens of thousands of brands of religion, many making conflicting and incompatible claims. If religion has arrived at some truth or knowledge of reality, let Mr. Ryerson tell us what it is. If he can’t, then he must explain why there’s such a difference between the two areas. Could it be that religion, although it arrogates unto itself many claims about reality, has no way to see whether they’re true?
h/t: Greg Mayer