By
Jerry Coyne
[GB:
Via "The Conversation" and its Creative Commons policy, I reprint
this interesting article
by Jerry Coyne, who summarizes his point of view on the science/religion
debate. As readers may know, I don't entirely agree with Jerry's "Fact vs.
Faith" dichotomy. As scientists, we rely on faith all the time. For
instance, we have the faith (or assumption) that "there are physical
causes for all effects". We could not prove that completely until we
discover all the causes for all effects, which is impossible. Nonetheless,
there is not a single instance in which that assumption
has failed. Of course, there is a dichotomy, but it is between determinism and
indeterminism, based on opposed assumptions as I put forth in "The Ten
Assumptions of Science." Some folks claim that this necessity to have “faith
in science” makes science a religion. That is false, because religion assumes
there is a god and science does not.]
Yes, there is a war between science and religion
Doubting Thomas needed the proof, just
like a scientist, and now is a cautionary Biblical example.
As
the West becomes more
and more secular, and the discoveries of evolutionary biology and
cosmology shrink the boundaries of faith, the claims that science and religion
are compatible grow louder. If you’re a believer who doesn’t want to seem
anti-science, what can you do? You must argue that your faith – or any faith –
is perfectly compatible with science.
And
so one sees claim after claim from believers,
religious
scientists, prestigious
science organizations and even
atheists asserting not only that science and religion are compatible,
but also that they can actually help each other. This claim is called “accommodationism.”
But
I argue that this is misguided: that science and religion are not only in
conflict – even at “war” – but also represent incompatible ways of viewing the
world.
Opposing methods for discerning truth
My
argument runs like this. I’ll construe “science” as the set of tools we use to
find truth about the universe, with the understanding that these truths are
provisional rather than absolute. These tools include observing nature, framing
and testing hypotheses, trying your hardest to prove that your hypothesis is
wrong to test your confidence that it’s right, doing experiments and above all
replicating your and others’ results to increase confidence in your
inference.
And
I’ll define religion as
does philosopher Daniel Dennett: “Social systems whose participants
avow belief in a supernatural agent or agents whose approval is to be sought.”
Of course many religions don’t fit that definition, but the ones whose
compatibility with science is touted most often – the Abrahamic faiths of
Judaism, Christianity and Islam – fill the bill.
Next,
realize that both religion and science rest on “truth statements” about the
universe – claims about reality. The edifice of religion differs from science by
additionally dealing with morality, purpose and meaning, but even those areas
rest on a foundation of empirical claims. You can hardly call yourself a
Christian if you don’t believe in the Resurrection of Christ, a Muslim if you
don’t believe the angel Gabriel dictated the Qur’an to Muhammad, or a Mormon if
you don’t believe that the angel Moroni showed Joseph Smith the golden plates
that became the Book of Mormon. After all, why accept a faith’s authoritative
teachings if you reject its truth claims?
Indeed,
even
the Bible notes this: “But if there be no resurrection of the dead,
then is Christ not risen: And if Christ be not risen, then is our preaching vain,
and your faith is also vain.”
Many
theologians emphasize religion’s empirical foundations, agreeing with the
physicist and Anglican priest John
Polkinghorne:
“The
question of truth is as central to [religion’s] concern as it is in science.
Religious belief can guide one in life or strengthen one at the approach of
death, but unless it is actually true it can do neither of these things and so
would amount to no more than an illusory exercise in comforting
fantasy.”
The
conflict between science and faith, then, rests on the methods they use to
decide what is true, and what truths result: These are conflicts of both
methodology and outcome.
In
contrast to the methods of science, religion adjudicates truth not empirically,
but via dogma, scripture and authority – in other words, through faith, defined
in Hebrews 11 as “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of
things not seen.” In science, faith without evidence is a vice, while in
religion it’s a virtue. Recall what
Jesus said to “doubting Thomas,” who insisted in poking his fingers
into the resurrected Savior’s wounds: “Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou
hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.”
And
yet, without supporting evidence, Americans
believe a number of religious claims: 74 percent of us believe in
God, 68 percent in the divinity of Jesus, 68 percent in Heaven, 57 percent in
the virgin birth, and 58 percent in the Devil and Hell. Why do they think these
are true? Faith.
But
different religions make different – and often conflicting – claims, and
there’s no way to judge which claims are right. There are over 4,000 religions on this
planet, and their “truths” are quite different. (Muslims and Jews,
for instance, absolutely reject the Christian belief that Jesus was the son of
God.) Indeed, new sects often arise when some believers reject what others see
as true. Lutherans
split over the truth of evolution, while Unitarians rejected other
Protestants’ belief that
Jesus was part of God.
And
while science has had success after success in understanding the universe, the
“method” of using faith has led to no proof of the divine. How many gods are
there? What are their natures and moral creeds? Is there an afterlife? Why is
there moral and physical evil? There is no one answer to any of these
questions. All is mystery, for all rests on faith.
The
“war” between science and religion, then, is a conflict about whether you have
good reasons for believing what you do: whether you see faith as a vice or a
virtue.
Compartmentalizing realms is irrational
So
how do the faithful reconcile science and religion? Often they point to the
existence of religious scientists, like NIH
Director Francis Collins, or to the many religious people who accept
science. But I’d argue that this is compartmentalization, not compatibility,
for how can you reject the divine in your laboratory but accept that the wine you
sip on Sunday is the blood of Jesus?
Others
argue that in
the past religion promoted science and inspired questions about the
universe. But in the past every Westerner was religious, and it’s debatable
whether, in the long run, the progress of science has been promoted by
religion. Certainly evolutionary biology, my
own field, has been held
back strongly by creationism, which arises solely from
religion.
What
is not disputable is that today science is practiced as an atheistic discipline
– and largely by atheists. There’s a
huge disparity in religiosity between American scientists and
Americans as a whole: 64 percent of our elite scientists are atheists or
agnostics, compared to only 6 percent of the general population – more than a
tenfold difference. Whether this reflects differential attraction of
nonbelievers to science or science eroding belief – I suspect both factors
operate – the figures are prima facie evidence for a science-religion
conflict.
The
most common accommodationist argument is Stephen Jay
Gould’s thesis of “non-overlapping magisteria.” Religion and science,
he argued, don’t conflict because: “Science tries to document the factual
character of the natural world, and to develop theories that coordinate and
explain these facts. Religion, on the other hand, operates in the equally
important, but utterly different, realm of human purposes, meanings and values
– subjects that the factual domain of science might illuminate, but can never
resolve.”
This
fails on both ends. First, religion certainly makes claims about “the factual
character of the universe.” In fact, the biggest opponents of non-overlapping
magisteria are believers and theologians, many of whom reject the idea that
Abrahamic religions are “empty of any
claims to historical or scientific facts.”
Nor
is religion the sole bailiwick of “purposes, meanings and values,” which of
course differ among faiths. There’s a long and distinguished history of
philosophy and ethics – extending from Plato, Hume and Kant up to Peter Singer,
Derek Parfit and John
Rawls in our day – that relies on reason
rather than faith as a fount of morality. All serious ethical
philosophy is secular ethical philosophy.
In
the end, it’s irrational to decide what’s true in your daily life using
empirical evidence, but then rely on wishful-thinking and ancient superstitions
to judge the “truths” undergirding your faith. This leads to a mind (no matter
how scientifically renowned) at war with itself, producing the cognitive
dissonance that prompts accommodationism. If you decide to have good reasons
for holding any beliefs, then you must choose between faith and reason. And as
facts become increasingly important for the welfare of our species and our
planet, people should see faith for what it is: not a virtue but a
defect.
Jerry
Coyne, Professor Emeritus of Ecology and Evolution, University
of Chicago
This
article is republished from The
Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original
article.
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