Chris Mooney downplays religion as a cause of creationism

December 3, 2013 • 7:27 am

Chris Mooney hasn’t been on my radar screen for a long time, and I thank Ceiling Cat for that. But I gather that he’s still busy “framing,” at least judging from his new piece in Mother Jones, “7 reasons why it’s easier for humans to believe in God than evolution.”  We could quibble about using the word “believe” with respect to evolution—many of us prefer “accept”—but let’s not quibble. What is distressing about Mooney’s piece is its weaselly avoidance of the real problem: rejection of evolution in America—and elsewhere—is due almost entirely to embracing religion. As I often say, you can have religions without creationism, but you never have creationism without religion. (I know in fact of only one nonreligious creationist—David Berlinski—although there are surely a few more.)

Mooney has historically been an accommodationist, athough once he was a pretty vociferous atheist. Then, along with Matt Nisbet, he discovered “framing,” and decided that—along with the National Center for Science Education, the National Academies of Science, and other accommodationist groups—that you couldn’t sell evolution to the American public if you either touted atheism or blamed creationism on religion. No, we must at all costs avoid raising the hackles of the faithful, for they are as little children: if they sense that their faith is attacked, they become completely immunized to Darwin.

But of course creationism is one of the smallest problems created by religion, and at any rate if we really want creationism out of our schools and our country, we must first weaken the grip of those religions that reject Darwinism.  (And don’t be fooled by thinking that only fundamentalists are creationists. Although the Catholic Church officially endorses evolution, it’s a form of theistic, God-guided evolution claiming that God inserted a soul into the hominin lineage. Further, fully 27% of Catholics are young-earth creationists, rejecting Church doctrine on this issue.)

Over at Sandwalk, Larry Moran took Mooney’s piece apart on the same grounds: Mooney’s avoidance of religion, but I’ll add my two cents.

Although Mooney opposes evolution and religion in his title, he will claim (see below) that they’re still compatible. And he’s not suggesting in that title that belief in God promotes rejection of evolution, even though that’s the fact of the matter, a fact one can glean from Mooney’s analysis. What he’s suggesting is, in fact, that humans have hard-wired psychological traits that prevent them from accepting evolution. Although it’s not a coincidence that many of these features are those that promote religion, Mooney doesn’t emphasize that conclusion.

We already know why embracing a theistic religion, especially an Abrahamic one, makes evolution repugnant. Here’s a list of reasons that came to mind just as I wrote this:

  1. Evolution shows that humans aren’t special since we evolved by the same processes as all other species.
  2. Evolution doesn’t give any evidence for special, non-materialistic aspects of human mentality, e.g., the soul.
  3. Evolution is a purely materialistic and naturalistic process, not requiring God’s intervention.
  4. Evolution suggests that at least some of human morality is evolved, and is certainly not given by God. That makes people think that if we’re just beasts, we should “behave like beasts.”
  5. The fact of evolution definitively shows that the creation story of Genesis is a fiction, casting doubt on many other claims of Scripture.
  6. The mechanism of adaptive evolution, natural selection, is harsh and cruel.  That doesn’t comport with a loving and omnipotent God.

There are other reasons, of course, but I’ll let that list stand.  In effect, the faithful find evolution odious because it removes the specialness of humans vouchsafed us by scripture, and also removes a God-given basis for morality.

Well, you won’t arrive at those conclusions, at least in that blatant form, from Mooney’s piece. Instead, he suggests the following seven features of human psychology make us resistant to the truth of evolution. (The characterization of each feature is mine, not Mooney’s.):

  1. Biological essentialism.  If we think of species as “essences”, that makes it hard to see how one species could evolve into another.
  2. Teleological thinking.  We tend to think of processes as having purposes, and purpose implies an intelligence behind it. That, according to Mooney, makes people less favorable toward purposeless evolution and more disposed towards purpose-driven theories like Intelligent Design.
  3. Overactive agency detection. This is the notion, proposed by Pascal Boyer and others, that we tend to see an agency behind natural features like lightning and disease. Ergo we see an agency behind evolution, so that even if we accept evolutionary change, we think that God guided it. It is in fact true that more than twice as many people who accept evolution accept a theistic as opposed to a naturalistic form of evolution.
  4. Dualism.  A distinction between mind and body not only promotes belief in God, but also direct resistance to evolution, for the latter process can’t explain how we get a soul.
  5. Inability to comprehend vast time scales. This causes us to resist evolution because we can’t comprehend how much change could occur over such vast time spans. We are unable to see that tiny changes over such spans can add up to big evolutionary changes—in both morphology and numbers of species.
  6. Group morality and tribalism.  Here Mooney does mention religion, arguing that our (probably evolved) tendency to live in interactive social groups makes us fear anything that could dissolve those groups. In the case of religious groups, the solvent would be evolution (Mooney mentions only “fundamentalist Christianity,” but of course many, many Americans who are not Biblical fundamentalists still reject evolution (see the reference at bottom).
  7. Fear and the need for certainty.  Again, Mooney connects religiosity with evolution, but does it by saying that religion arises as a solution to fear and doubt, and we tend to reject those factors, including evolution, that reawaken our doubts).

What Mooney has done, then, is to list psychological tendencies that promote the rejection of evolution. He also emphasizes, rightly, that religion itself may not be an evolved phenomenon, but a byproduct of some other adaptive psychological traits. What he doesn’t emphasize is that many of these psychological tendencies are those that promote religion, and then religion promotes rejection of evolution. That message can be gleaned from his list, but he tiptoes around it. It’s no coincidence that the traits that promote rejection of evolution promote acceptance of religion.

And, at the end, Mooney undermines the whole religious issue by listing a “few caveats,” especially this one:

Such is the research, and it’s important to point out a few caveats. First, this doesn’t mean science and religion are fundamentally incompatible. The conflict may run very deep indeed, but nevertheless, some individuals can and do find a way to retain their religious beliefs and also accept evolution—including the aforementioned biology textbook author Kenneth Miller of Brown University, a Catholic.

So after he says that there is a deep conflict between science and religion, he backtracks and says that maybe there isn’t, really, because people like Ken Miller can accept both science and religion. That is infuriating. Mooney has been an accommodationist for a long time, but apparently hasn’t listened to the rebuttals of the “some scientists are religious” argument for compatibility. (He’s heard that rebuttal a lot; I mentioned it in a review of his book that I published in Science.) Mooney might as well say, “The conflict between Catholicism and child rape may run very deep indeed, but nevertheless, some individuals can and do find a way to be both a Catholic and a child rapist, including Angel Perez, a Catholic priest.”

Why does Mooney come so close to indicting religion but then backs away at the last minute? It’s “framing,” of course. Unless he’s a total fool, which he isn’t, he knows that religion is the proximate cause of creationism, and that the battle against religious theories of biology won’t end until religion backs off.  He also knows that the incompatibility between science and religion, based on their different ways of perceiving “truth,” is a real one, and is not resolved by pointing out some scientists who are religious. Ceiling Cat knows, Mooney’s commenters have told him this dozens of times.

But Mooney wants to be perceived as religion-friendly, and has the misguided idea that by coddling faith, he’ll make it easier for the faithful to have their Jesus and Darwin, too. This misguided tactic has become so common that I’m going to name the “The BioLogos Fallacy.” It just doesn’t work.

Finally, as Larry Moran points out, if resistance to evolution is hard-wired, it’s not so hard-wired that it can’t be changed over a relatively short period of time. The people of northern Europe, for instance, don’t seem to have much trouble accepting evolution Larry gives a bar chart from Science showing how America is next to last on a list of 34 countries surveyed for acceptance of human evolution. (It runs 75% or higher in countries like France, Iceland, Denmark, Sweden, and Japan, but only 40% in the U.S., next lowest to Turkey, which has 27% acceptance. In fact, if you include “naturalistic” rather than God-guided evolution, the US figure would drop to about 15%.) Presumably the French, Japanese, and Scandinavians share the same psychological traits of humans (evolved or otherwise) listed by Mooney.

There is a strong negative correlation among both countries and US states between religiosity and acceptance of evolution; here are data from 34 countries that I compiled in a paper published in Evolution last year.  Of course a correlation doesn’t prove causation, but in this case I think one can make a strong case that if there is causation here, it’s that belief in God that confers rejection of evolution (see discussion in my paper).  Why is there such a difference in religiosity among countries? I discuss that in the paper, too, and argue, based on sociological data, that the most religious countries are the most dysfunctional ones, and dysfunctionality of a society makes its inhabitants more religious.

Picture 1
Figure 1. The correlation between belief in God and acceptance of human evolution among 34 countries. Acceptance of evolution is based on the survey of Miller et al. (2006), who asked people whether they agreed with the statement, “Human beings, as we know them today, developed from earlier species of animals.” (Original data provided by J. D. Miller.) “Belief in God” comes from the Eurobarometer survey of 2005, except for data for Japan from (Zuckerman 2007) and for the United States from a Gallup Poll (2011b).“US” is the point for the United States. The correlation is −0.608 (P = 0.0001), the equation of the least-squares regression line isy = 81.47 − 0.33x.

The paper is free, and you can read it at the link below. I must say that I experienced a bit of resistance publishing it. It was an invited submission because, as president of the Society for the Study of Evolution, I get a “free” slot in the journal, but I insisted on having my contribution refereed so that I could publish an indictment of religion as a cause of creationism and say it was peer-reviewed, which it was.  Religiosity is an obvious cause of creationism, yet people like Mooney are so resistant to hearing that simple fact that they avoid mentionng it at all costs. Such is the nature of religion in America, which must never be criticized, even for obvious transactions. In fact, one of the three reviewers of my paper noted that he/she liked the paper and agreed with my analysis, but was worried about what would happen if its “antireligious” message was published. That reminded me of the old (and probably apocryphal) story of the bishop’s wife:

On hearing, one June afternoon in 1860, the suggestion that mankind was descended from the apes, the wife of the Bishop of Worcester is said to have exclaimed, ‘My dear, descended from the apes! Let us hope it is not true, but if it is, let us pray that it will not become generally known.’

Yes, the antievolutionism of Americans is a direct result of their high religiosity, but people like Mooney try to ensure that this does not become generally known.

________

Coyne, J. A. 2012. Science, religion, and society: the problem of evolution in America. Evolution 66:2654-2663.

Fox week, day 2: More beautiful foxes

December 3, 2013 • 5:40 am

Reader Stephen Oberski sent me some gorgeous pictures of foxes, along with a description of an interesting fox haven. (Note: the photos are very large and hi-res, so click to enlarge if you want.) Readers have obliged me by sending in more photos and videos of foxes, so I may be able to fill a full week.  (They are all, by the way, the red fox, Vulpes vulpes.)

Back in April and May of this year I had occasion to photograph fox cubs in the Oakville, Ontario (just to the west of Toronto) area. There were approximately 10 to 15 of them plus the mother; they were so active it was impossible to get an accurate count.

They were born and lived on the east bank of 14 Mile Creek not far from where it terminates in Lake Ontario, we live a bit further upstream and our yard backs onto it.

Mom and pup

fox cubs

I suspect that there were at least two litters born a week or so apart, based on the differences in size and colour and the information from Wikipedia that the typical litter size for the red fox is 4 to 6 (though it has been reported to be as high as 13).

Apparently the foxes had been using this area as a nursery for quite a while, for the entire area was a maze of tunnels and you never knew from where a cub might appear. This probably explained the mystery mounds of dirt I had encountered on the adjacent sidewalk on prior runs though the area—before I knew about the cubs.

Fox face

I believe that the cub below is eating a rabbit, which looks like the well-chewed-on remains of a foot and some attachment bones The mother also brought them red winged blackbirds and there was also what I think were the remains of a sea gull and many other anonymous bones and feathers scattered around the nursery.  I think there was some cannibalism going on as well: I saw what were probably the remains of another cub.

Fox nomming

Although the watershed around the creek is fairly undeveloped, it runs right though some densely populated urban areas of Oakville and unfortunately the foxes quickly become habituated to humans with the expected tragic results for some of the foxes.

Yawning cub

As much as I enjoyed being around and photographing them, I eventually had to stop as I did not want to have them get more used to humans than necessary.

For those of a photographic bent, the camera was the original Canon Digital Rebel—the first digital SLR released by Canon for the consumer market. For the time, it had an amazing 6.3 megapixel resolution. The lens is the Canon F4 EF 70-200 mm IS L series. I’ve had the camera for over 10 years and I have promised myself that when it dies I will upgrade; but at last count I have taken around 100,000 pictures with it and it still refuses to die.

Stephen’s photo site has a bunch more pictures of the mothers and cub; click on them for very high-res images.

Tuesday: Hili dialogue

December 3, 2013 • 4:19 am

Hili seems to be becoming a bit less solipsistic, but in the end it’s all about her:

Hili: This “science” – what is it?
A: It’s a way of seeking answers to questions so as not to make a total fool of oneself.
Hili: I knew that humans, when they want to, can behave like cats.

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In Polish:

Hili: Co to jest ta nauka?
Ja: Taki sposób szukania odpowiedzi na pytania, żeby nie robić z siebie zbyt wielkiego idioty.
Hili: Wiedziałam, że człowiek jak chce, to potrafi zachowywać się jak kot.

Update: Sean Carroll on biocentrism

December 2, 2013 • 3:30 pm

At my request, Official Website Physicist™ Sean Carroll gave me his take on Robert Lanza’s theory of biocentrism that I discussed this morning. Here’s what Sean emailed me (quoted with permission):

Like Chopra, Lanza mixes (1) completely legitimate (but strange sounding) statements about quantum mechanics, (2) tendentious interpretations of what quantum mechanics says that are defensible only because they are so vague, and (3) outright craziness. Quantum effects aren’t usually perceptible on the macro level, but of course they can be; that was the upshot of the blog post I wrote (which I think you linked to on your blog [JAC: he means “website”]. So that part is legitimate.

Things like “these waves of probability are not waves of material” are somewhat reminiscent of the truth—but sufficiently nebulous that they allow him to say things like “outside of that idea, the wave is not there” and “nothing is real unless it’s perceived,” which are just nonsense. The real problem with the Chopra/Lanza attempt to put “life” at the center of how we understand quantum mechanics is that no definition of “life” is ever offered. In physics, our theories map formal mathematical structures onto observable reality. The quantum state is a vector in Hilbert space, a well-defined mathematical object. It evolves according to the Schrödinger equation, a well-defined differential equation. What is “life,” or “consciousness,” from this perspective? What mathematical space is it an element of? What equations tell us how it evolves? These “theories” are hard to attack because there’s no there there, all you have are some fuzzy words and fast talk.

I stand corrected on the possibility of quantum effects on the macro level. But that still doesn’t tell us that the breadbox disappears when we leave the room.

Einstein’s famous quote about science and religion: what did he mean?

December 2, 2013 • 12:41 pm

This is the Einstein quote you often hear from the faithful as well as from accommodationists:

“Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.”

It’s often used to show both Einstein’s religiosity and his belief in the compatibility—indeed the mutual interdependence—of science and religion.  But the quote is rarely used in context, and since I’ve just read the essay in which it appears, I’ll show you that context. But first let me show you how, in that same essay, Einstein proposes what is essentially Steve Gould’s version of NOMA (Non-overlapping Magisteria):

It would not be difficult to come to an agreement as to what we understand by science. Science is the century-old endeavor to bring together by means of systematic thought the perceptible phenomena of this world into as thoroughgoing an association as possible. To put it boldly, it is the attempt at the posterior reconstruction of existence by the process of conceptualization. . .

. . . Accordingly, a religious person is devout in the sense that he has no doubt of the significance and loftiness of those superpersonal objects and goals which neither require nor are capable of rational foundation. They exist with the same necessity and matter-of-factness as he himself. In this sense religion is the age-old endeavor of mankind to become clearly and completely conscious of these values and goals and constantly to strengthen and extend their effect. If one conceives of religion and science according to these definitions then a conflict between them appears impossible. For science can only ascertain what is, but not what should be, and outside of its domain value judgments of all kinds remain necessary. Religion, on the other hand, deals only with evaluations of human thought and action: it cannot justifiably speak of facts and relationships between facts. According to this interpretation the well-known conflicts between religion and science in the past must all be ascribed to a misapprehension of the situation which has been described.

For example, a conflict arises when a religious community insists on the absolute truthfulness of all statements recorded in the Bible. This means an intervention on the part of religion into the sphere of science; this is where the struggle of the Church against the doctrines of Galileo and Darwin belongs. On the other hand, representatives of science have often made an attempt to arrive at fundamental judgments with respect to values and ends on the basis of scientific method, and in this way have set themselves in opposition to religion. These conflicts have all sprung from fatal errors. (Einstein 1954, p. 44-45; reference below).

This is nearly identical to Gould’s views from his 1999 book Rocks of Ages, though Einstein is never given credit for suggesting this type of accommodationism 45 years earlier. But in so doing, he’s nearly as wrong as Gould.

Einstein was wrong because he placed the evaluations of human thought and action in the religious sphere, completely neglecting secular morality. He also errs by saying that religion deals “only with evaluations of human thought and action,” neglecting the palpable fact that many religions are also concerned with truth statements—statements about the existence of God, what kind of God he is, and what he wants, as well as how we got here and where we go after we die. Indeed, in the third paragraph Einstein notes that religion does in fact concern itself with truth statements, so he contradicts himself.

Gould got around this ambiguity simply by claiming that religions that made truth statements, that intruded into the sphere of science, were not proper religions. But of course that disenfranchised most of the believers in the world! It won’t do to define religion in a way that leaves out most religionists. (I reviewed Gould’s book for the Times Literary Supplement and will be glad to send a copy to anyone who asks, since it’s not online).

So I take issue with Einstein’s accommodationism. The man was good, but he wasn’t God, and it’s baffling to me to see people quoting his non-scientific pronouncements as if they are unimpeachable.  An expert in physics is not necessarily a doyen of philosophy.

Now it’s true that if you read Einstein’s statements on God, it’s clear that he didn’t believe in a personal God, and thought that theistic religion was man-made. The way he conceived of “proper” religion was a belief in something beyond one’s own “selfish desires”: a set of “superpersonal values” that included included awe before the order of nature.  But it’s not clear to me—and this is a critical point—where Einstein thought that order came from.

As for the famous quotation at the top, here it is in context (my emphasis):

“Though religion may be that which determines the goal, it has, nevertheless, learned from science, in the broadest sense, what means will contribute to the attainment of the goals it has set up.  But science can only be created by those who are thoroughly imbued with the aspiration toward truth and understanding. This source of feeling, however, springs from the sphere of religion.  To this there also belongs the faith in the possibility that the regulations valid for the world of existence are rational, that is, comprehensible to reason. I cannot conceive of a genuine scientist without that profound faith. The situation may be expressed by an image: science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.” (Einstein 1954 pp. 45-46; reference below).

I have no quarrel with the claimed contribution of science to religion: helping test ways to achieve one’s goals. Einstein neglects, however, another contribution of science to religion: disproving its truth statements. Darwin did a good job of that!

But Einstein errs again by claiming that “the aspiration toward truth and understanding. . .springs from the sphere of religion.” Perhaps he’s conceiving of “religion” here as a form of science, or of curiosity about the universe beyond oneself.  But he’s certainly not conceiving of religion as most people understand it.  Why couldn’t he simply say that people are curious to find out stuff? Why did he have to recast that curiosity as a form of “religion”? It’s that conflation that has caused persistent confusion about Einstein’s beliefs. Was he so eager to placate the faithful that he had to redefine “religion” as a godless awe?

Finally, I take issue with Einstein’s statement that the value of reason in understanding the world is a form of “profound faith.” As I wrote in Slate, this is confusing because the religious meaning of faith is “firm belief without substantial evidence,” while the scientist’s “faith” in the laws of physics is simply shorthand for “strong confidence of how things work based on evidence and experience.”  Further, we don’t have faith in reason:  we use reason because it helps us find out things. It is in fact the only way we can approach understanding the universe. If other ways had proven valuable, like revelation or Ouiji boards, we’d use those, too.

In his debate with Chopra, Sam Harris said that Einstein’s statement clearly showed that he didn’t believe in a conventional God. I think that’s true, but it also shows that Einstein was confused about faith and confused about religion.  What he should have done is deep-six the world “faith” in favor of “confidence” and simply not claimed that curiosity and adherence to natural laws was a form of religion. It is that confusion (or perhaps that imprecision of language) that has led to such conflict about what Einstein believed or didn’t believe about God and religion.

So let me simply recast Einstein’s famous statement in terms of what I think he meant:

“Science without profound curiosity won’t go anywhere, and religion without science is doubly crippled.”

Doubly crippled, of course, because theistic religions are based on a supernatural but fictitious being, and are further crippled when they reject the findings of science.

In the end, Einstein’s statements about religion are ambiguous, but should never be used to justify his belief in any kind of personal or theistic god. (I believe Dawkins deals with this at length in The God Delusion.) But I wish he would have either written a bit more clearly, thought a bit more clearly or, perhaps, completely avoided discussing the topic of religion and science. After all, he was Einstein, not God.

_______

Einstein, A. 1954. Science and religion. Pp. 41-49 in Ideas and Opinions. Crown Publishers, New York. (The link goes to several of Einstein’s writings on science and religion.)

Fox Week!

December 2, 2013 • 11:35 am

Actually, I have only two posts scheduled for Fox Week (foxes are the only d*gs I like), so if you have GOOD fox photos, send them along.

The first set comes from regular Diana MacPherson, who sent photos taken by a friend of a fox and its presumed cubs. Her commentary follows:

Here are some cute fox pictures a family friend sent. He lives in northern Ontario near the French River and there are foxes who visit. She raids the food he puts out for chipmunks on his woodpile and she brought him that stick and it looks like she is playing with a ball he probably bought for the foxes.

The ball in situ:

JThe ball, pre-fetch

She shows up with things like that ball which she steals from a dog’s grave. The neighbours had a Lab that died and they were really upset about it and so they put its toys on the grave and the fox steals the toys! She took off with that ball.

JFF FETCH 1 s

JFF FETCH 2

He also feeds her the cat food in a can with a lid (she comes buy yipping to be fed) but last time she took the whole works, can and all! The fox must have a den full of stuff she has stolen!

JFF FETCH 3 s

The “fetching” started when he threw a golf ball and she took the ball, came closer, then dropped it. He then threw it again and she took it and brought it closer and dropped it. He says she is teaching *him* how to fetch.

I think she just brought him the stick as the next thing she could train him with. She just showed up with the stick [below]. I don’t think he threw it for her though. I guess you can see how wolves could start on the road to domestication ~30 000 years ago if the fox is so trusting. I had one hang around my house that was really curious about the cows next door and would stare at them sitting there hunkered down.

Fox fetching stick:

F w STICK 2

These are the kits I believe but it’s hard to tell. The mom came with her kits in the summer and the kits learned to come up there for noms. They are *almost* tame!

FOXES (cubs?)

A paleontologist debates an IDer on the Cambrian Explosion

December 2, 2013 • 9:35 am

Charles Marshall, a paleontologist and expert on early life at the University of California at Berkeley, recently debated intelligent-design advocate Stephen Meyer on the Cambrian Explosion, the topic of Meyer’s recent book, Darwin’s Doubt: The Explosive Origin for Animal Life and the Case for Intelligent Design. I haven’t yet listened to the hour-long debate, but I will, and readers interested in ID and paleontology should as well.

I confess that I had an small hand in this: when Meyer’s book came out, arguing that the suddenness of the Cambrian “Explosion” (it actually took at least ten million years), accompanied by the origin of several new body plans, was evidence for intelligent design, I wanted to see his argument addressed by scientific experts. I called it to the attention of several early-life paleobiologists, hoping that they’d review the book. Only one of them, Charles, took the bait, but he produced a great review, and in an important journal (Science). You can read Marshall’s negative review here, for free. And that review led to this debate.

The debate, of course, was conducted on a Christian station, Premier, a station in the UK, and on the “Unbelievable?” show hosted by Justin Brierley. You can go to the show’s website here and access the Meyer/Marshall debate by clicking on “click here to listen now,” or, better yet (since that way can crash your browser) listen to or download an MP3 of the show here.

Since I haven’t heard this yet, and many readers won’t, put your take on the debate below if you’ve listened to it.

I wish more paleobiologists would have a look at Meyer’s book. Not that he’ll listen to their critiques, for he and his Discovery Institute cronies aren’t interested in scientific argument, and always find a way to discredit the several negative reviews.  And although it’s annoying to take time out of one’s science to debunk ID, having a paper record against its arguments is valuable. Paleobiologists should, for instance, note that if you look on the Amazon rankings under “organic evolution,” you’ll find this:

Picture 3It’s a travesty that a religiously-motivated book is #1. That ranking doesn’t reflect its scientific or literary quality, of course: it reflects America’s extreme religiosity and the fact that Meyer’s book adds to religious Americans’ confirmation bias.

In the more sensible and less religious UK, Meyer’s book isn’t even listed under “evolution” (or at least doesn’t appear in the top 80), and is #42 in paleontology.

“Biocentrism”: is it woo?

December 2, 2013 • 8:24 am

Again I violate the rules by answering a title question with the word “yes.”

About two weeks ago I posted about the theory of “biocentrism” proposed by Robert Lanza. At that time, I didn’t know much about the theory, but was decrying a piece Lanza wrote in the Independent arguing that his theory suggested that we would have an afterlife: that the concept of death was an illusion, and therefore “could not exist in any real sense.” If that’s the case, where is my last cat?

I’ve now read a bit more about the theory, since in 2009 Lanza published a precis of it on the NBC website. His precis is called “‘Biocentrism’: how life creates the universe,” and it’s an excerpt from his book with Bob Berman, Biocentrism: How Life and Consciousness are the Keys to Understanding the True Nature of the Universe.   (When reading the piece, be sure to click on the bottom where it says “show more text.”) Even though the book was published in 2010, it’s still at position #4538 on Amazon—a respectable showing after 3.5 years.

Like Deepak Chopra, Lanza has substantial scientific credentials. As I wrote earlier:

Wikipedia describes Robert Lanza as “an American medical doctor, scientist, Chief Scientific Officer of Advanced Cell Technology (ACT) and Adjunct Professor at the Institute for Regenerative Medicine, Wake Forest University School of Medicine.” He has substantial accomplishments, including being the first person to clone an endangered species (the gaur), to develop a way to harvest embryonic stem cells without destroying an embryo, and to inject stem cells into humans to treat genetic diseases.

Indeed, the accomplishment of such substantial work is more than Chopra can claim. But Lanza resembles Chopra in a darker way, for, after reading about biocentrism, I conclude that it’s just another form of woo—granted, a more sophisticated form of woo than Chopra’s, but only marginally. And, astoundingly, “biocentrism” uses some of the same tropes as does Chopra: the primacy of consciousness in the universe and the idea that quantum mechanics makes a hash of the notion of “reality.” Lanza’s stuff appears to be idle speculation, but speculation that is presented as fairly well established science; and its publication on the NBC “Science” site is bound to mislead or confuse the layperson—especially because there are no rebuttals. (There appear to be “comments,” but I can’t see them.)

Lanza’s main idea is, in fact, identical to that of Chopra: the universe and everything in it is a construct of consciousness (he doesn’t say whose, but I assume humans). Remember when Deepak said that the Moon doesn’t exist until you see it? Well, Lanza thinks exactly the same thing (all excerpts from the NBC piece):

In the past few decades, major puzzles of mainstream science have forced a re-evaluation of the nature of the universe that goes far beyond anything we could have imagined. A more accurate understanding of the world requires that we consider it biologically centered. It’s a simple but amazing concept that Biocentrism attempts to clarify: Life creates the universe, instead of the other way around. Understanding this more fully yields answers to several long-held puzzles. This new model — combining physics and biology instead of keeping them separate, and putting observers firmly into the equation — is called biocentrism. . .

Could the long-sought Theory of Everything be merely missing a component that was too close for us to have noticed?  Some of the thrill that came with the announcement that the human genome had been mapped or the idea that we are close to understanding the “Big Bang” rests in our innate human desire for completeness and totality.  But most of these comprehensive theories fail to take into account one crucial factor: We are creating them. It is the biological creature that fashions the stories, that makes the observations, and that gives names to things. And therein lies the great expanse of our oversight, that science has not confronted the one thing that is at once most familiar and most mysterious — consciousness.

Lanza then traverses familiar ground:  modern science does not explain consciousness, the “beauty” of a sunset is all a subjective sensation filtered through our brain, and, indeed, none of our perceptions reflect a reality “out there”—merely our brain’s interpretation of something (he doesn’t say what). He implies that because science hasn’t explained consciousness, it can’t:

There are many problems with the current paradigm — some obvious, others rarely mentioned but just as fundamental. But the overarching problem involves life, since its initial arising is still a scientifically unknown process, even if the way it then changed forms can be apprehended using Darwinian mechanisms. The bigger problem is that life contains consciousness, which, to say the least, is poorly understood.

Consciousness is not just an issue for biologists; it’s a problem for physics. There is nothing in modern physics that explains how a group of molecules in a brain creates consciousness. The beauty of a sunset, the taste of a delicious meal, these are all mysteries to science — which can sometimes pin down where in the brain the sensations arise, but not how and why there is any subjective personal experience to begin with. And, what’s worse, nothing in science can explain how consciousness arose from matter. Our understanding of this most basic phenomenon is virtually nil. Interestingly, most models of physics do not even recognize this as a problem.

Well, physicists aren’t concerned much with consciousness, but biologists and philosophers are.  And we don’t understand nothing about it: we know which parts of brain affects parts of consciousness, like recognizing faces, and we know that we can remove consciousness with anesthetics and bring it back. We can alter consciousness in predictable ways with drugs. Everything to date suggest that consciousness is an emergent property of brain organization, though we don’t yet know yet how this subjective sensation arises through neurology or arose through evolution. (We do know that things that taste good were, generally, good for us in the past, so some aspect of subjective sensation is comprehensible.)

Lanza then take a brief detour through Fine Tuning Land, just short enough to suggest that the physical constants are a mystery, and to imply that perhaps his own theory (he doesn’t say how) is involved in the answer:

Then, too, in the last few decades there has been considerable discussion of a basic paradox in the construction of the universe. Why are the laws of physics exactly balanced for animal life to exist?  There are over 200 physical parameters within the solar system and universe so exact that it strains credulity to propose that they are random — even if that is exactly what standard contemporary physics baldly suggests. These fundamental constants of the universe — constants that are not predicted by any theory — all seem to be carefully chosen, often with great precision, to allow for existence of life and consciousness (yes, consciousness raises its annoying head yet another time). We have absolutely no reasonable explanation for this.

But that’s simply not true. First of all, we don’t know which constants are independent of one another, and we certainly know that not all of them have to be “fine tuned” to permit life as we know it.  Further, Sean Carroll, in the video I posted last week, suggested four “reasonable” explanations for the so-called Anthropic Principle, including luck, multiverses, and so on. None of them are unreasonable; we just don’t know which is correct. (Lanza considers several of these briefly but dismisses them, and doesn’t mention the multiverse hypothesis, which was around when his book was published.) But again, the nature of physical constants is a hard problem, like consciousness, and there’s no reason to think that science won’t eventually answer it. Has Lanza not learned the historical problems with “woo of the gaps” arguments?

Then, inevitably, Lanza drags in quantum mechanics, in the form of The Observer Effect. Lanza notes that “the observer” (and consciousness) affect the outcome of quantum-mechanical studies. He doesn’t note, though, “observer” need not be conscious: it can be a non-conscious machine that measures quantum phenomena. That by itself would seem to make hash of his theory.  Lanza then mooshes together the observer effect and the fact that we perceive a version of reality filtered through our neurons to confect his Big Theory:  reality is in fact created by the observer, and isn’t there (or isn’t coherent) when it’s not observed. Here’s the meat of his theory:

The results of quantum physics, such as the two-slit experiment, tell us that not a single one of those subatomic particles actually occupies a definite place. Rather, they exist as a range of possibilities — as waves of probability — as the German physicist Max Born demonstrated back in 1926. They are statistical predictions — nothing but a likely outcome. In fact, outside of that idea, nothing is there!  If they are not being observed, they cannot be thought of as having any real existence — either duration or a position in space.  It is only in the presence of an observer — that is, when you go back in to get a drink of water [he says that our kitchen isn’t really there when we leave it]— that the mind sets the scaffolding of these particles in place. Until it actually lays down the threads (somewhere in the haze of probabilities that represent the object’s range of possible values) they cannot be thought of as being either here or there, or having an actual position, a physical reality.

Indeed, it is here that biocentrism suggests a very different view of reality. Most people, in and out of the sciences, imagine the external world to exist on its own, with an appearance that more-or-less resembles what we ourselves see. Human or animal eyes, according to this view, are merely clear windows that accurately let in the world. If our personal window ceases to exist, as in death, or is painted black and opaque, as in blindness, that doesn’t in any way alter the continued existence of the external reality or its supposed “actual” appearance. A tree is still there, the moon still shines, whether or not we are cognizing them. They have an independent existence. True, a dog may see an autumn maple solely in shades of gray, and an eagle may perceive much greater detail among its leaves, but most creatures basically apprehend the same visually real object, which persists even if no eyes were upon it.

This “Is it really there?” issue is ancient, and of course predates biocentrism. Biocentrism, however, explains why one view and not the other may be correct. The converse is equally true: Once one fully understands that there is no independent external universe outside of biological existence, the rest more or less falls into place.

He never explains the “rest more of less falls into place” (i.e. does this explain the physical constants—or are they mere constructs?), but this idea is badly wrong. Yes, of course our perception of reality may be conditioned by our neurons (a bee sees differently from us), but the wavelengths of light that fuel perception are invariant among organisms.  And even if quantum phenomena are puzzling on the micro level (Lanza mentions, of course, quantum entanglement and the two-slit experiment—phenomena also used to empower Chopra’s woo), they almost certainly have no effect on the macro level: on our consciousness and on the behavior of objects bigger than a cell (that is, if molecules aren’t illusions of our consciousness!).

In the end, it’s simply foolish to claim that nothing is there until we observe it—that there is simply a wave function that collapses into a rock or a cat when a human sees it. The observer need not be conscious, not even a machine. I was reading last night, in my mountaineering book, how George Mallory‘s body was found on Everest in 1999. If you’re a mountain fanatic, you’ll know the story, but Mallory and his climbing partner, Andrew Irvine, disappeared while climbing Everest in June of 1924.  Since they were last seen near the summit, it’s possible that they actually made it to the top, though evidence suggests they didn’t.  What’s important here is that when Mallory’s body was found after 75 years, something had happened to it. It had become mummified, much of his clothing was ripped by winds (he was identified by a label in his shirt), and his bones were showing.  That all suggests—as do many other things that happen to inanimate objects—that there are real phenomena that occur even when nobody is there to see them. And that reality—in this case the cold and winds of Everest—have predictable effects.  No observer was there to watch Mallory’s body wither and be buffeted by winds, no observer is there when we leave a sand castle on the beach and return to find it effaced by the tides, no observer is there when you forget to take the cake out of the oven and it burns.

Are these phenomena, then, “created” by consciousness? If so, how; and why are they “created” in a predictable way?  Lanza’s big mistake, it seems to me, is to say that a combination of the “observer” effect (which doesn’t apply on the macro level) and the fact that reality is filtered through evolved neurons, together suggest that reality does not exist. If it doesn’t, it’s curious that the illusory reality we create with our consciousness—and Lanza includes “death” as such an illusion—certainly behave in ways that are predictable and perceived identically by different people, changing in expected directions even when no observer is around.

In the end, Lanza suggests not only that consciousness creates reality, but that it somehow created the universe. When discussing anthropic “fine-tuning,” he says this:

At the moment, there are only four explanations for this mystery. One is to argue for incredible coincidence. Another is to say, “God did that,” which explains nothing even if it is true. The third is to invoke the anthropic principle’s reasoning that we must find these conditions if we are alive, because, what else could we find? The final option is biocentrism pure and simple, which explains how the universe is created by life. Obviously, no universe that doesn’t allow for life could possibly exist; the universe and its parameters simply reflect the spatio-temporal logic of animal existence.

Now how on earth is the universe (much less those fine-tuned constants) created by life? How does our consciousness create the universe if that universe had to preexist for our consciousness to evolve? According to Lanza, it’s not just that we filter a pre-existing reality through our consciousness, thereby distorting it, but that we actually create that reality when we perceive it.  If that’s the case, where did animals, with their attendant consciousness, come from? How did the Big Bang occur without people around to create it? Does he admit of a “wave function” that allowed us to evolve, and in ways that our own consciousness can understand by collapsing the wave functions that correspond to fossils?

Maybe I’m not understanding Lanza, and perhaps he’s saying something very deep. But I doubt it, and certainly others do too, for “biocentrism” hasn’t exactly caught on in the last few years.  It seems to me that what Lanza is proffering is merely a Deepakian form of woo, one empty of substantive content. If that’s the case, then it’s a mystery why someone like Lanza, who has solid scientific credentials and accomplishments, has gone astray in this manner. Unlike Chopra, Lanza doesn’t sell ayurvedic medicines or tea mugs, and it’s clear he really believes what he says.  But, I suspect, what he claims could be demolished in a few minutes by someone who knows quantum mechanics.

We have some of those people here, so if you want to have a go at “biocentrism,” be my guest. It’s time for physicists, biologists, and philosophers to join forces to go after this unnourishing word salad that people like Lanza and Chopra feed to a hungry public. It’s not quite as bad as religion, but they have their similarities, including the use of incoherent language, the use of deepities, and nebulous claims about reality.

The puzzle of consciousness and the counterintuitiveness of quantum mechanics are indeed cause for wonder—and stimuli for research—but they’re not reasons to jettison the notion of reality.

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Robert Lanza, who has just gone swimming in water created by his consciousness.