Here’s what I am thinking about the whole Science vs. Religion thing: When Religion tries to do the work of Science, it usually gets it wrong. And when Science tries to do the work of Religion, it usually does it wrong.
This is totally understandable, given that even when Religion does the work of Religion, it sometimes gets it wrong — depending, often, on what prayer book you’re reading or what TV evangelist you’re following.
Same for Science.
For example, I was irritated when I read an article written by a seventh-grader about the Black Plague. The last sentence of his essay disclosed that the lesson he drew from studying the Plague in this class is that we should “trust science over religion.”
Man! How does a student get that idea from studying the Black Plague? These students are hearing something goofy from someone. At the time, my question was, “What wisdom, exactly, was Science offering the victims or potential victims of the bubonic plague back in A.D. 1349 that could have saved thousands of lives?” “Science” didn’t have a clue. So Religion butted in and got it wrong, too.
In this case, here’s what happened. The pope (Religion) asked the professors of the medical faculty in Paris (Science) what the heck was going on. The learned doctors suggested that unfortunately, Saturn, Jupiter and Mars in the sign of Aquarius had conjoined in 1345. Oops! The regrettable event had caused hot, moist conditions to prevail upon the earth, which, in turn, had released poisonous vapors.
Okay, then. That’s what Science, young man, was telling people in A.D. 1349. How, then, does one conclude that we should “trust science over religion” on the basis of this particular historical event?
Unfortunately, Science has gotten it wrong a lot, but, to its credit, usually admits when it does and moves on. That, to be fair, is the nature of scientific research: trial and error. Science, after all, said the earth was flat, and then said, “Oops, no it isn’t.” Science gave us the concept of the “humours” of man, told us that stomach ulcers were caused by too much stress, that brain cells can’t regenerate, that asbestos is great for insulation and that thalidomide is a wonderful drug. And so on.
Again, to be fair, Science gives us its best thinking, which is all it can do.
But you can understand, then, why the public can be skeptical. A recent survey by the Pew Research Center and the American Association for the Advancement of Science (the largest scientific organization in the world) reveals that the public and scientists are poles apart on a number of significant issues.
The poll shows that while virtually all (but not 100 percent) of scientists surveyed agree that human activity is causing global warming, only half of the public agrees that humans are causing climate change, and some (11 percent) don’t even believe that we are experiencing climate change at all.
Most scientists (98 percent) agree that human beings have evolved in some way, shape or form. But more than 30 percent of the public think that humans have existed since the beginning of time as they now exist.
What concerns scientists is that the public is no longer solidly behind scientific research. Only 27 percent (down from more than 50 percent 10 years ago) believe that scientific advances are among the nation’s top achievements. Fewer people believe that scientific advances are all that important.
Oddly, I think, this Science vs. Religion debate and hostility has heated up not because of irrational and pinheaded religionists but because of a few hotheaded “new atheists” (Hitchens, et al.) who keep stirring the pot of reasonable discourse and discussion with a dirty spoon dipped in Tabasco sauce.
In his new book Reason, Faith and Revolution, Terry Eagleton, distinguished professor of English literature at the University of Lancaster and former Thomas Warton professor of English literature at the University of Oxford (1992-2001), begins by asking, “Why are the most unlikely people, including myself, suddenly talking about God?”
His response is that the other candidates for guidance — science, reason, liberalism, capitalism — just don’t deliver what is ultimately needed. “What other symbolic form,” he asks, “has managed to forge such direct links between the most universal and absolute of truths and the everyday practices of countless millions of men and women?”
In a great review of the book, Stanley Fish, writing in The New York Times, says Eagleton argues it is only the aspirations Religion generates that can lead to “a radical transformation of what we say and do.” The other projects, Fish writes, “provide various comforts and pleasures, but they are finally superficial and tend to the perpetuation of the status quo rather than to meaningful change.”
Religion should not be trying to tell us whether climate change is or is not caused by humans. Religion is not equipped to answer that question of Science or any question of Science. Science has a tough enough time answering its own questions without Religion butting in like a big sister. The fact that Religion can’t explain how the world works shouldn’t be held against it. This is not what Religion does.
And Science cannot answer, according to Eagleton, ultimate questions such as “Why is there anything in the first place?,” “Why is what we do have actually intelligible to us?” and “Where do our notions of explanation, regularity and intelligibility come from?” And the fact that Science cannot answer or respond to these questions should not be held against it either. This is not what Science does.
Here I close with a final comment from Fish, as he puts it better than I could by far: “When Christopher Hitchens declares that given the emergence of ‘the telescope and the microscope,’ religion ‘no longer offers an explanation of anything important,’ Eagleton replies, ‘But Christianity was never meant to be an explanation of anything in the first place. It’s rather like saying that thanks to the electric toaster we can forget about Chekhov.’
“Eagleton likes this turn of speech, and he has recourse to it often when making the same point: ‘[B]elieving that religion is a botched attempt to explain the world . . . is like seeing ballet as a botched attempt to run for a bus.’ Running for a bus is a focused empirical act and the steps you take are instrumental to its end. The positions one assumes in ballet have no such end; they are after something else, and that something doesn’t yield to the usual forms of measurement. Religion, Eagleton is saying, is like ballet (and Chekhov); it’s after something else.”
I like that. Religion is like ballet; Science is like running for the bus. Theologians are not too good at chasing buses, and scientists make for lousy ballet dancers.