Over at the Center for Inquiry, Michael De Dora has published a controversial piece arguing that while we can teach the evidence for evolution in public school biology class, we should not at the same time overtly refute the claims of creationism.  While it’s okay to teach that the earth is 4.5 billion years old, says De Dora, and to outline the evidence for that age, it’s wrong to add that the earth is not 6,000-10,000 years old, for that is a religious idea, not a scientific one.  And, says De Dora, that violates the Constitution’s provision of church-state separation:

More specifically, the purpose of biology class is not to reject religious ideas; it is to inform students about biology*. There is no scientific reason for the textbook to discuss Christianity or label its creation story a “myth”; it has nothing to do with teaching the theory of evolution or biology generally. And While Zimmerman overstates his case to some degree — the passage does not refer to the entire Bible as a “myth”– directly rejecting specific stories in The Bible still shows preference. . .

Science classrooms should teach science. Biology class should, at least on evolution, cover the work of Charles Darwin and other early scientists theorizing about evolution; it should tackle the meaning of the word “theory” in science; it should discuss the enormous advances in evolutionary biology since Darwin’s time; it should talk about the multiple lines of evidence supporting the theory of evolution; and much, much more. By the end, there should be no doubt that evolution is as close to a fact as we have. Talk about discouraging students from believing in creationism…

Even if biology courses were going to teach background on the theory, as I would admit they probably should to some minor extent, then textbooks obviously have to acknowledge the existence of dissent. But I don’t see a church-state issue with merely mentioning that religion exists. Denying religious ideas is the step that puts us in a bind.

And, in the comments (De Dora’s responses to the commenter’s questions are in italics):

@Deen: “If the biology textbook is even halfway decent, the rest of the book should have already established that the creation story couldn’t have been true anyway. How could it be problematic to point it out explicitly?”

Because it is one thing to teach biology; it is another to deny religious ideas.

and

@Deen, “Are you saying that it’s OK to teach people that the earth is 4.5 billion years old, but it’s wrong to teach them that the earth isn’t 6000 years old?”

Yes. One imparts scientific knowledge. The other denies a religious idea. One is constitutional; the other is not. There is no reason for a high school biology teacher to get into denying specific religious ideas in a high school biology class.

I think De Dora is wrong here, and for several reasons. First, the claim that the earth is 6,000 years old is not a religious idea, it is an empirical claim. Yes, it’s an empirical claim that’s derived from a fundamentalist interpretation of the Bible, but it is not a “religious idea.”  Refuting the idea is not the same thing as attacking religion.  It’s simply showing that one of the claims that some religious people make about the world is wrong. (As I argued in a recent post, because these empirical claims come from specific notions about the supernatural, testing them is, in effect, testing the idea that gods have intervened in the universe in certain specified ways.)

But why go after those ideas in the first place, especially in biology class?   I think there are several reasons. The first is that there is an important social context in which biology, geology, and cosmology are embedded and other sciences are not.   Much of the American public rejects evolution precisely because those sciences make empirical claims that contravene empirical claims that come from other sources, mainly faith.  If there are widespread views of the world that contradict biological fact, it’s important for students to know that.  This equips them to be not only good citizens, but also to think scientifically.  Telling the students that “here is a feathered theropod dinosaur that lived about 150 million years ago, which is strong evidence that birds evolved from dinosaurs” is not the same as telling them that and adding that “this contradicts the notion that birds and reptiles were separately created.” One way of teaching gives positive evidence, the other not only gives that evidence but dispels an alternative hypothesis—the most widespread alternative hypothesis.

And that brings us to the second reason: teaching evolution and dispelling creation provides students with a valuable lesson: it teaches them to think scientifically—surely one of the main points of a science class.  They learn to weigh evidence and to show how that evidence can be used to discriminate between alternative explanations.  It’s of little consequence to me that one alternative explanation comes from a literal interpretation of scripture. Indeed, it’s useful, for this is a real life example—one that’s going on now—of how alternative empirical claims are fighting for primacy in the intellectual marketplace.  What better way to engage students in the scientific method?

Weighing alternatives was also important in the history of evolutionary biology.  As we all know, Darwin’s rhetorical strategy in The Origin was to constantly present the reader with facts about biology that could be understood in light of his ideas but not in light of religiously-based creationism. Eventually, the case for creationism collapsed under his persuasive weight. This strategy was crucial in promoting the rapid acceptance of Darwin’s views among biologists  (except, of course, for natural selection, which wasn’t widely accepted until about 1920).

In fact, under De Dora’s view, it would be not only wrong but illegal to teach Darwin’s Origin of Species in public-school science class (or perhaps any class!), since the book is loaded with explicit discussion about facts that contradict creationism.  I’ll limit myself to citing a few passages from Darwin’s discussion of biogeography in chapters 11 and 12.  I’ve put the “illegal” passages in bold:

In discussing this subject, we shall be enabled at the same time to consider a point equally important for us, namely, whether the several distinct species of a genus, which on my theory have all descended from a common progenitor, can have migrated (undergoing modification during some part of their migration) from the area inhabited by their progenitor. If it can be shown to be almost invariably the case, that a region, of which most of its inhabitants are closely related to, or belong to the same genera with the species of a second region, has probably received at some former period immigrants from this other region, my theory will be strengthened; for we can clearly understand, on the principle of modification, why the inhabitants of a region should be related to those of another region, whence it has been stocked. A volcanic island, for instance, upheaved and formed at the distance of a few hundreds of miles from a continent, would probably receive from it in the course of time a few colonists, and their descendants, though modified, would still be plainly related by inheritance to the inhabitants of the continent. Cases of this nature are common, and are, as we shall hereafter more fully see, inexplicable on the theory of independent creation. . .

Before discussing the three classes of facts, which I have selected as presenting the greatest amount of difficulty on the theory of `single centres of creation,’ I must say a few words on the means of dispersal. . .

These cases of relationship, without identity, of the inhabitants of seas now disjoined, and likewise of the past and present inhabitants of the temperate lands of North America and Europe, are inexplicable on the theory of creation. We cannot say that they have been created alike, in correspondence with the nearly similar physical conditions of the areas; for if we compare, for instance, certain parts of South America with the southern continents of the Old World, we see countries closely corresponding in all their physical conditions, but with their inhabitants utterly dissimilar. . .

We now come to the last of the three classes of facts, which I have selected as presenting the greatest amount of difficulty, on the view that all the individuals both of the same and of allied species have descended from a single parent; and therefore have all proceeded from a common birthplace, notwithstanding that in the course of time they have come to inhabit distant points of the globe. I have already stated that I cannot honestly admit Forbes’s view on continental extensions, which, if legitimately followed out, would lead to the belief that within the recent period all existing islands have been nearly or quite joined to some continent. This view would remove many difficulties, but it would not, I think, explain all the facts in regard to insular productions. In the following remarks I shall not confine myself to the mere question of dispersal; but shall consider some other facts, which bear on the truth of the two theories of independent creation and of descent with modification. . .

We have evidence that the barren island of Ascension aboriginally possessed under half-a-dozen flowering plants; yet many have become naturalised on it, as they have on New Zealand and on every other oceanic island which can be named. In St. Helena there is reason to believe that the naturalised plants and animals have nearly or quite exterminated many native productions. He who admits the doctrine of the creation of each separate species, will have to admit, that a sufficient number of the best adapted plants and animals have not been created on oceanic islands; for man has unintentionally stocked them from various sources far more fully and perfectly than has nature. . .

This general absence of frogs, toads, and newts on so many oceanic islands cannot be accounted for by their physical conditions; indeed it seems that islands are peculiarly well fitted for these animals; for frogs have been introduced into Madeira, the Azores, and Mauritius, and have multiplied so as to become a nuisance. But as these animals and their spawn are known to be immediately killed by sea-water, on my view we can see that there would be great difficulty in their transportal across the sea, and therefore why they do not exist on any oceanic island. But why, on the theory of creation, they should not have been created there, it would be very difficult to explain. . .

And finally, one of my favorite passages from The Origin:

The most striking and important fact for us in regard to the inhabitants of islands, is their affinity to those of the nearest mainland, without being actually the same species. Numerous instances could be given of this fact. I will give only one, that of the Galapagos Archipelago, situated under the equator, between 500 and 600 miles from the shores of South America. Here almost every product of the land and water bears the unmistakeable stamp of the American continent. There are twenty-six land birds, and twenty-five of those are ranked by Mr Gould as distinct species, supposed to have been created here; yet the close affinity of most of these birds to American species in every character, in their habits, gestures, and tones of voice, was manifest. So it is with the other animals, and with nearly all the plants, as shown by Dr. Hooker in his admirable memoir on the Flora of this archipelago. The naturalist, looking at the inhabitants of these volcanic islands in the Pacific, distant several hundred miles from the continent, yet feels that he is standing on American land. Why should this be so? why should the species which are supposed to have been created in the Galapagos Archipelago, and nowhere else, bear so plain a stamp of affinity to those created in America? There is nothing in the conditions of life, in the geological nature of the islands, in their height or climate, or in the proportions in which the several classes are associated together, which resembles closely the conditions of the South American coast: in fact there is a considerable dissimilarity in all these respects. On the other hand, there is a considerable degree of resemblance in the volcanic nature of the soil, in climate, height, and size of the islands, between the Galapagos and Cape de Verde Archipelagos: but what an entire and absolute difference in their inhabitants! The inhabitants of the Cape de Verde Islands are related to those of Africa, like those of the Galapagos to America. I believe this grand fact can receive no sort of explanation on the ordinary view of independent creation; whereas on the view here maintained, it is obvious that the Galapagos Islands would be likely to receive colonists, whether by occasional means of transport or by formerly continuous land, from America; and the Cape de Verde Islands from Africa; and that such colonists would be liable to modifications; the principle of inheritance still betraying their original birthplace.

Now I’m not saying that we should all go into public-school biology classes and gloat, “See—religious ideas are wrong!” And I doubt that any of us think that we should use this teaching strategy to explicitly dump on those strains of Christianity, Islam, and Judaism that promulgate creationist ideas.  There’s a sensitive way to do this.  Too, when we do teach evolution, we don’t need to constantly criticize empirical claims about creationism.  In my own classes, I mention creationism only during the first two lectures—the lectures on the evidence for evolution.

Over my years of teaching, I’ve given many talks about evolution in public schools.  I’ve also taught evolution at the University of Maryland, a public university.  And I’ve found that the mention-and-dispel-the-alternatives approach is pedagogically useful.  Now this isn’t the same as “teaching the controversy,” because 1) I don’t spend a lot of time on the creationist claims, and 2) I show the students that those claims don’t stand up.

I’ve also written a book on the evidence for evolution, and explained in its introduction that my theme made sense only in light of ongoing controversies.  We don’t need books about Why Atoms are True or Why the Germ Theory of Disease is True.  The reviews of WEIT were almost uniformly positive, and, more important, I can’t think of a single one who took me to task for bashing religion, though I frequently discuss creationist claims.  (Note: I’m going on memory here, so I may have forgotten some criticism.)   Further, not a single one of the many people who have written me thanking me for the book have added, “Hey, you know, it would have been more persuasive if you had laid off creationism.” At any rate, there is no evidence that my strategy in writing that book impeded its message.

Yes, we have to admit that some students may begin questioning religion if they see that their faith makes incorrect claims about the world.  But, as I’ve said before, that doubt can arise not just from teaching biology, but from teaching geology, astronomy, or any form of logic, philosophy, or rational examination.  Indeed, many people have rejected their faith because of what they’ve learned in religion class, at seminaries, or in courses on Biblical scholarship.  There’s no need to bash faith in public schools, but neither should we make religion’s false claims about biology immune to critical scrutiny.

If, as Francisco Ayala, the National Center for Science Education, and many accommodationists insist, there isn ‘t a conflict between science and faith, then they need to explain why Bruce Waltke, a professor at Florida’s Reformed Theological Seminary, was forced to resign after appearing in a BioLogos video that not only espoused harmony between faith and science, but also criticized those Christians who deny evolution.

According to Inside Higher Ed:

Michael Milton, president of the seminary’s Charlotte campus and interim president of its Orlando campus, where Waltke taught, confirmed that the scholar had lost his job over the video. Milton said that Waltke would “undoubtedly” be considered one of the world’s great Christian scholars of the Old Testament and that he was “much beloved here,” with his departure causing “heartache.” But he said that there was no choice.

Milton said that the seminary allows “views to vary” about creation, describing the faculty members there as having “an eight-lane highway” on which to explore various routes to understanding. Giving an example, he said that some faculty members believe that the Hebrew word yom (day) should be seen in Genesis as a literal 24-hour day. Others believe that yom may be providing “a framework” for some period of time longer than a day. Both of those views, and various others, are allowed, Milton said.

But while Milton insisted that this provides for “a diversity” of views, he acknowledged that others are not permitted. Darwinian views, and any suggestion that humans didn’t arrive on earth directly from being created by God (as opposed to having evolved from other forms of life), are not allowed, he said, and faculty members know this.

Asked if this limits academic freedom, Milton said: “We are a confessional seminary. I’m a professor myself, but I do not have a freedom that would go past the boundaries of the confession. Nor do I have a freedom that would allow me to express my views in such a way to hurt or impugn someone who holds another view.” Indeed he added that the problem with what Waltke said was as much his suggestion that religion will lose support over these issues as his statements about evolution itself. (The statement of faith at the seminary states: “Since the Bible is absolutely and finally authoritative as the inerrant Word of God, it is the basis for the total curriculum.”)

I guess we can resolve this conundrum by telling the Reformed Theological Seminary that their faith isn’t “proper.”  Sounds like a job for Peter Hess.

Meet Atelopus coynei, a “harlequin frog” from the Andean rainforests of Ecuador.  And yes, it’s named after me.  I discussed this frog earlier on this website, and told the story of how my late friend Ken Miyata and I found it, but until yesterday I didn’t know of any photos.  Now, thanks to David Blackburn at the Natural History Museum and Biodiversity Institute of the University of Kansas, this lacuna is filled.  My frog is an attractive beast, swirled with bright green and chocolate brown.

Sadly, A. coynei may be no more.  It is on the IUCN’s red list of species, and is listed as “critically endangered.” It hasn’t been seen since 1984 and, given the pace of deforestation in western Ecuador and the spread of the amphibian-killing fungal disease chytridiomycosis, may well be extinct.  That would put me in the sad position of having as my eponymous animal an ex-frog, bereft of life, who has ceased to be.

Fig. 1.  Atelopus coynei, a lovely animal.

In a recent post about Sam Harris’s new ideas about morality, Massimo Pigliucci decided to take a few shots at the “scientism” supposedly espoused by Richard Dawkins and me.

As it turns out, there is much that Harris and I agree on, but I think his main target is actually moral relativism, and that he would get more mileage out of allying himself with philosophy (not to the exclusion of science), rather than taking what appears to be the same misguided scientistic attitude that Richard Dawkins and Jerry Coyne have come to embody so well.

I’m not exactly sure what Massimo’s beef is with Richard and me, but it seems to have something to do with our presumed lack of respect for philosophy:

I don’t have a copy of the God Delusion with me at the moment, but both Dawkins and Coyne have repeatedly made disparaging remarks about philosophy during talks I’ve seen. Coyne even did it while giving a research seminar at Stony Brook a few years ago (I was in the audience), and Dawkins made a joke during a talk about having to hold back from criticizing philosophy because Dennett was in the audience…

I don’t remember what I said at Stony Brook, but I clearly don’t dismiss all philosophy—just what I see as bad philosophy. (Yes, there is some:  for a specimen, see What Darwin Got Wrong by Jerry Fodor and Massimo Piattelli-Palmarini).  I have enormous respect for the kind of philosophy which, as Russell Blackford points out, can approach science in its ability to find truth through reason. (One example that I cite constantly is the demonstration by Plato and others that much of morality doesn’t derive from religious dogma but is antecedent to it.)

But I don’t want to talk about Harris’s take on morality here  (see the bottom of this post for a few comments). Instead, I’d like to address Massimo’s notion that the supernatural is simply impervious to scientific analysis.  As he said in a comment on his own post:

. . . my problem with Dawkins and Coyne is different, but stems from the same root: their position on morality is indeed distinct from Harris’ (at least Dawkins’, I don’t recall having read anything by Coyne on morality), but they insist in applying science to the supernatural, which is simply another form of the same malady that strikes Harris: scientism, the idea that science can do everything and provides us with all the answers that are worth having.

Okay, let me get one thing clear at the outset.  I do not believe, nor have I ever asserted, that science provides us with all the answers that are worth having.  Some answers worth having involve subjective taste:  which bistro should I eat at tonight?  Should I go out with Sue or with Megan? Is Joyce’s The Dead truly the best story ever written in English? (The answer to that, by the way, is “yes”.)  Why does Beethoven move me to tears while Mozart leaves me cold?  And there are the moral questions, such as “Is abortion wrong?”

Now some of these questions are at least potentially susceptible to empirical investigation and falsification (I may find, for example, that I first heard Beethoven during a really good time of my life, and that this somehow conditioned my neural response to the music.)  But science certainly can’t “do everything.”  It can’t relieve the tears of a bullied child; it can’t bring civil rights to blacks and gays; it can’t bring peace to Israel and Palestine. Still, many of the answers to these questions can be informed by scientific analysis.  If our answer to the question about abortion involves knowing whether a fetus can feel pain, well, that can—in principle—be studied scientifically.

Dawkins, too, is not immune to the blandishments of art and literature, as you can see by simply reading his books.  I suspect that both Richard and I are advocates of “scientism” only to the extent that when questions are amenable to logic, reason, and empirical investigation, then we should always use those tools.  If that’s “scientism,” then so be it.

But Pigliucci is off the mark, I think, when insisting that we can’t apply science to the supernatural.  We’ve gone around about this before, but I want to make the point one more time.  This view is pretty common; it’s held not only by Massimo, but also by people like Eugenie Scott, who once told me that the supernatural is simply immune to scientific analysis.

Here’s the point. Virtually every religion that is practiced by real people (as opposed to that espoused by theologians like Karen Armstrong) makes claims that God interacts with the world.  That is, most religions are theistic rather than deistic.  And to the extent that a faith is theistic,  it is amenable to empirical study and falsification—that is, it’s susceptible to science.

Here is a short (and very incomplete) list of all the ways that science already has tested the supernatural assertions of faith:

• The earth was suddenly created, complete with all its species, 6,000 to 10,000 years ago.  This was falsified by science.  The falsification likewise goes for other religions’ creation myths, like those of Hindus and the Inuits.
• God put the earth at the center of the solar system and the universe.  Also falsified.
• God is both omnipotent and benevolent.  Falsified by the data.
• All humans descend from Adam and Eve, who also lived a few thousand years ago.  Falsified by genetic data.
• Praying for sick people makes them better.  Falsified by the intercessory prayer study.
• People who lived in the past can be reincarnated as modern people, complete with their earlier memories.  Investigation has shown no evidence for this.
• Jonah was swallowed and regurgitated by a giant fish (or whale).  Probably impossible; nobody has survived such an occurrence.
• God confounded all the languages at once at the Tower of Babel.  False: languages diverged gradually from common ancestors.
• Tribes colonized North America from the Tower of Babel several thousand years ago. (Book of Mormon).  No evidence.
• Faith by itself can cure dire diseases and medical conditions, which result not from organic conditions but from imperfect belief. (Christian Science).  No evidence for such faith healing.
• U.S. soldiers will return to South Pacific islands bearing wonderful goods for the inhabitants.  False: won’t happen.

I don’t think I need to go on.  The point is that all of these assertions dealt with supernatural claims that were part of mainstream or widely-practiced religions.  They were disproved by science, and many (but not all) of the faithful have discarded them. This shows by itself that Pigliucci is wrong: science can be applied to supernatural claims.

Now there are other supernatural claims that haven’t yet been disproven by empirical tests but could be, at least in principle. Here are a few:

• Performing special dances to propitiate the gods will bring rain for the crops.
• Likewise, sacrificing animals will propitiate the gods and bring good fortune.
• Mary’s body was taken directly to heaven, with no bones remaining on Earth.
• The cloth that covered Jesus’s body miraculously retained his imprint.
• Praying to God can help cure cancer.

I’m sure all of you can considerably expand this list.

Now maybe Pigliucci’s definition of “supernatural” is this: the supernatural is that which cannot be studied by science. In that case his assertion is merely a tautology.  But I think most people conceive of the “supernatural” as something more than this: something numinous, beyond our normal experience (that’s what most of us would call “preternatural”); something like the dogmas espoused by religion.  As my friend Russell Blackford has pointed out, the definition of “supernatural” is pretty slippery, and varies from person to person. I claim that in its common usage, in which miraculous events occur on Earth through the intercession of gods, the supernatural can often be tested with science.  Any philosophy that claims it cannot is either espousing a tautology or is misguided.  And that is a kind of philosophy I cannot get behind.

______

Footnote: I’ve watched Sam Harris’s Ted video about his forthcoming book, and tried to keep up a bit with the ensuing debate, but there’s simply too much to cover. I feel better withholding judgment on Sam’s ideas until I read his book.  So far I think that Sam’s detractors invoke the naturalistic fallacy too quickly, and that there may indeed be something about “is” that can be transferred to “ought.” Suppose, for instance, that we really do find that nearly all human judgments about morality rest on a common denominator of increased well-being? Wouldn’t that give us some guidance toward “ought?”  I do appreciate the opportunity that Sam has given us to ponder all this.  On the other hand, I’m not yet clear what Sam means by “well-being”?  Does he mean the well-being of humanity as a whole, or of (as John Rawls might say) the least advantaged individual?  Would it not be possible to commit palpably immoral acts and still increase the world’s net well-being, or would the mere occurrence of such acts (say, of torture) inevitably reduce overall well-being by eroding standards? And aren’t there different acts that have identical effects on well-being (say, Marc Hauser’s railroad-track question) but which we judge as morally non-equivalent?  There’s a lot to think about here, and I want to read Sam’s book before weighing in.

Just when you think the Catholic Church couldn’t get any more deeply mired in slime, something like this comes up (from The Guardian):

A furious transatlantic row has erupted over quotes that were attributed to a retired Italian bishop, which suggested that Jews were behind the current criticism of the Catholic church’s record on tackling clerical sex abuse.

A website quoted Giacomo Babini, the emeritus bishop of Grosseto, as saying he believed a “Zionist attack” was behind the criticism, considering how “powerful and refined” the criticism is. . .

The comments, which have been denied by the bishop, follow a series of statements from Catholic churchmen alleging the existence of plots to weaken the church and Pope Benedict XVI.

Allegedly speaking to the Catholic website Pontifex, Babini, 81, was quoted as saying: “They do not want the church, they are its natural enemies. Deep down, historically speaking, the Jews are God killers.”

Do note, however, that although Babini’s statements were published on a Catholic website, he denies them.  The Church is also rushing to distance itself:

As the interview appeared on Italy’s main newspaper sites today, complete with the American reaction, the Bishops’ Conference rushed out a statement quoting Babini denying he had ever given the interview in the first place. “Statements I have never made about our Jewish brothers have been attributed to me,” he said.

by Matthew Cobb

The Guardian today has an interesting but rather light-weight piece about whether we are living through a golden age of science. In fact, the article is more about science on British TV, which makes it doubly parochial. Furthermore, the article seems too influenced the undoubted success of my Mancunian colleague Professor Brian Cox (cue arty photo of Cox looking moody in an Oasis-style parka).

However, there’s a more important point to be made here. Although TV is incredibly important, it is declining as a primary mode of communication/education, as compared to the rise of the Internet. And while the wave of science blogging, of which WEIT is a small part, marks a really interesting and important development, it would be naive to imagine that the tide of non-scientific nonsense has been turned. The number of irrational/paranoid/whacko sites is probably more than the number of atoms in the known universe, while the comments on YouTube and similar sites reveal a depth of ignorance – particularly amongst the young – that shows the work that remains to be done. And as for the growth of religion…

For non-UK readers, the backdrop to the article is the current British general election campaign, and the looming threat of massive – but absolutely massive – public spending cuts, which will occur whoever wins (but will be far worse under the Conservatives). And high up the list of sectors heading for cuts is the science budget. This article is partly an attempt to influence that debate.

Cox says:

“Did you know, for example, that Britain’s entire science budget was £3.3bn last year, out of a total government spend of £621bn? And that physics-based industry alone contributes 6.4% of our GDP – comparable to the much vaunted and rather more costly financial services sector – yet no party is committed to protecting it after the next election.”

Alice Roberts, a medic who has done programmes about human anatomy and anthropology, hits the nail on the head :

“We seem to have been getting very mixed messages from the government about the value of science to our society. On the one hand, it has launched a campaign to show us that science is important, yet it has also tried to manoeuvre scientists into rubber-stamping political decisions, and has got rid of them if they won’t – as we saw with the very public dismissal of its chief drug adviser, David Nutt. And of course, there has been the recent announcement of cuts in higher education. In the run-up to the election, it will be interesting to see what the various parties promise us when it comes to science funding and education. And I’ll make up my mind about whether it’s been a golden age for science in a few years’ time.”

I don’t know much about Krista Tippett, who does the Speaking of Faith program on NPR, but I’ve just received a free copy of her new book, Einstein’s God: Conversations about Science and the Human Spirit.  I’m intrigued enough to read it, although I’m not excessively hopeful after seeing that one of the “conversations” is with John Polkinghorne and is called “Quarks and Creation: On the complementary nature of science and religion.”  I heard her exactly once, while driving in North Carolina. She was spouting some accommodationist nonsense on NPR, and I petulantly turned off the car radio.

Before cracking the book, I did a quick Google search, and this video came up:

This is not promising:

@4:50 “I actually interviewed an Australian astrobiologist recently for a program we’re doing on the religious sensibility of Albert Einstein, and he says that theology is the midwife of science. And he points out that in Western culture, and even names that we wrongly think of as being opposed to religion—Galileo, Newton, even Darwin himself, and into the twentieth century, somebody like Albert Einstein— you know, especially Darwin, Newton, and Galileo: they thought that what they were doing with science was understanding God better. They went from the premise that, you know, the Americans you just heard a moment ago, hold, that God created the world, that they believed that Nature, that the created world, is the works of God, and in understanding nature and the world as it is, they could understand the mind of God. And that is an impulse that even today is consonant with the way many scientists approach their work, whether they are kind of traditionally religious or not. And that’s being lost in the way that science is being set up as an enemy to religion. . . .

Actually, I know a lot of scientists, but have never encountered a single one who seems motivated by the desire to understand the nature of God. Maybe Newton did that, but certainly not Einstein and Darwin.  To claim that those two guys did science as a way of getting inside God’s mind is the most blatant form of factual distortion in the service of accommodationism.  Of course science is an enemy of religion, for its method is doubt, empirical testing, and the rejection of ideas for which there’s no evidence.  If religious people practiced their faith using those principles, in a very short time there would be no religion.

Is this the kind of stuff I can expect in her book?

_____

Oh, and a big hat tip to Greg Mayer and Matthew Cobb for putting up some great posts during my well-deserved feed in Paris.

by Matthew Cobb

I spotted this via a link on the Le Monde website. It’s not Saturday anymore, but this is too good to keep for another six days. The cat is called Rocky, he’s two year’s old, and he lives with a young woman called Daisy in the Gard region of France. Sadly, he doesn’t do this too much now, as she’s moved the furniture. When the video was taken (November 2009), he could only see the birds if he was standing up. Now, like most domestic cats, he can watch his desired prey sitting down. Oh, and turn the sound off. For some reason Daisy and her partner, Yann, have put some very irritating music on the soundtrack.

Could he do it if the sofa wasn’t so squishy? Why is this behaviour so unusual?

[First posted over at the z-letter]