“O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?”

I remember learning in high school that when Juliet utters these words it doesn’t really mean what it’s often interpreted to mean. Hers is not a question about Romeo’s location, nor even predominantly an expression of distress that he isn’t present. What it is is an ontological question: why, she wonders, must he be not where, but what he is — a Montague who has stolen her heart.

Even so, there have been versions of this scene staged such that Juliet appears to be looking around from the balcony for her lover as she speaks the famous lines. This misdirection obviously fogs the fundamental character of Juliet’s angst.

Well, I’ve got some angst of my own (though in deference to my neighbors I don’t intend to deliver it from my second floor window), and I can’t help but think of the parallels with the above misinterpretation as I observe the debate over “intelligent design” (ID).

I know it’s often an imprudent digression to quibble over words, but in this case my quibble is one that goes to the foundations of how we frame the discussion of ID: Wherefore, I might ask, art thou design?

And of course I mean the question in exactly the same sense Shakespeare intended for Juliet’s plaint. I’m not interested in the “where,” in discovering or dithering over putative examples of design. That is putting the cart before the horse. I am interested in the “what” and the “why” involved in how such phenomena come to be so designated. It seems to me that we regard the question of whether something may reasonably be described as “design,” or even as “looking designed,” with far too little skepticism.

‘Tis but thy name?’

Many, probably most, scientists have at one time or another used convenient language that seems to impute a telos to biological processes (e.g., a gene “wants” to propagate itself). Perhaps it’s this kind of casual reference that allows comfort with “design” language. Nearly everyone is familiar with this from Richard Dawkins The Blind Watchmaker:

“Biology is the study of complicated things that give the appearance of having been designed for a purpose.” (Dawkins, 1986)

This passage has been quoted in many a creationist tome and on many a creationist web page. We all know that Dawkins is not saying that things are designed; he’s saying things look like they are designed. And we all know that The Blind Watchmaker, like many of his books that followed, was an attempt to elucidate this distinction:

“The purpose of this book is to resolve this paradox to the satisfaction of the reader, and the purpose of this chapter is further to impress the reader with the power of the illusion of design.“ (Ibid)

Like Dawkins, many evolutionary pundits seem to believe that the real debate begins subsequent to tacit acquiescence to design (if only “the appearance of”). However, the argument I’d like to make is that the word “design” should be avoided altogether. It should stick in the throat of any critic of ID. My reasons for this are twofold:

First: To someone who already believes in a creative deity the use of the word “design,” even in the context of (what they would perceive as) equivocation over real or apparent, is a very real concession to the “obvious” facts of the matter:

“Design should not be overlooked simply because it’s so obvious.” (Behe, 2005)

“In short, design is “obvious"; the question is only whether it is real or apparent.” (Pearcey, 2000)

“Design is obvious at a glance to anyone, and detailed scientific analysis has not changed that fact.” (Snoke, 2001)

I think a significant portion of this debate is lost when we routinely refer to biological complexity as “designed,” even with appropriate (for those thinking critically) qualification. Ceding the use of that word presents some semantic obstacles, and it supports the believer’s conceit that this phenomenon is plain even to atheists who then manage to don blinders due to arrogance and intransigence. But more fundamentally, I think granting design language leaves creationists on philosophically safe ground. It passes up an opportunity to put them in a position where they have to acknowledge that ideology is informing their perspective on the “design” analogy (more on this to follow). When we use this terminology, we encourage a rhetorical sigh of relief and the attitude that “Now, all we have to do is offer design examples” (of which they, of course, can claim a nearly inexhaustible supply).

And second: The biological world doesn’t even look designed. The word is simply inapt.

What’s design?

It is nor stone, nor stream, Nor fish, nor man, nor any other part belonging to the world. [Apologies to the Bard of Avon]

One finds the quality of “purpose” inherent in any definition of the word design. Design inevitably reflects intent. And we know that this is the use of “design” ID proponents mean to offer. The entire thrust of their ideology, from kvetching about the “mindless purposelessness” of Darwinian evolution to kibbitzing about the unfair restrictions of methodological naturalism, is to clear a little space where they can stuff some transcendent intentionality back into the evolution of life. It’s well understood that there is no empirical warrant for concluding this world’s biota is the result of purpose, and my point in broaching intent is to show that neither is there any logical warrant for suggesting it appears to be so.

To grant the observation that life appears designed is to assert that there are diagnostic hallmarks we can find in designed things (the only examples of which we can evaluate being human derived) that we also discover in the biological world. What might some of these be? Complexity? No, simplicity is every bit as likely to be the result of the designing process. Specificity? Not really. As it is defined and used by ID proponents (an “independently given pattern”) this is a rather meaningless concept that reduces to “I know it when I see it.” And so in trying to adduce “design” in non-human artifacts using specificity as an indicator is essentially an exercise in begging the question. Perhaps irreducibility? Actual design may or may not be overtly irreducible. Irreducibility in a design can be obscured because it may be subject to the purpose of the designer (e.g., an apparently redundant part of a system may actually be entirely necessary based upon the intended life expectancy of the system). Thus irreducibility in design can be enigmatic absent knowledge of purpose. Add to this the fact that undirected natural forces have been shown to be capable of producing irreducibility and it becomes clear that this quality may be present in designed things, but it is not diagnostic of design.

Robustness? Well, of course this is a relative concept, i.e. robust compared to what, and in what sense? That of withstanding physical forces, making slim resources last, or even being long-lived? It’s true that these qualities can be found in things we know to be designed, but so are their opposites. It doesn’t seem that we can say robustness is diagnostic of design. How about redundancy? I don’t think so. Cost/benefit considerations will cause redundancy to be “designed out” wherever it pays to do so. Maybe, then, organization? Well, as with irreducibility we know that there are undirected physical processes that can produce organization in nature, e.g. crystals, concentric circles on water surfaces, or fractal systems. So no, organization won’t work.

Hmm... beauty? No. Convenience? Not necessarily. Ubiquity, rarity? Nope.

The scope of the design act is breathtaking. It can be as simple as enhancing a mood by moving one stone in a Zen garden, or as overwhelming in complexity as conceiving the space shuttle. The diagnostic commonality here has nothing to do with material or manufacture, nothing to do with specificity or irreducibility or organization or any attempted combination of these and other qualities. The diagnostic commonality in design is intent. We know that something is designed when we understand the deliberation that produced it. Design is the expression of purpose. And the truth is there is only one way we can know that purpose is inherent in any act or artifact, and that is to know something of the designer. When we recognize design, it is either because we are familiar with similar systems or structures that we know to be designed, or we are familiar with the design processes that might have produced it. All such familiarity is based, at root, upon knowledge of the designers.

But as we have no evidence whatsoever of ID’s designer, we are left without any insight into putative purpose. We know nothing that justifies an inference to “design” in nature. And except for that which they import from their personal philosophical convictions, neither do ID proponents. So they try to square this circle with the assertion that this intent is “obvious” in all that surrounds us.

There is nothing - not one thing - in the natural structure and development of life that bespeaks intent. Nor is there anything in the natural abiotic world that reflects purpose. These observations are starkly highlighted by the way the acts and artifacts of man stick out like a sore thumb on the landscape. Stand at the shore or fly high above the earth and man’s ambitions frame and are framed by the unconstrained exuberance of undirected nature, wherein one may find complexity and simplicity, robustness and delicacy, beauty and blight. There is even, in some cases, order, but there is not the slightest appearance of design.

Were it not design call’d

None of the foregoing is a conclusive argument that life is not “designed.” It is simply an observation that there are no standards (at least none that survive scrutiny) by which one may reasonably refer to life as looking designed, or suggest that the “design” of life is obvious. It doesn’t, and it isn’t.

So if I am right that “design” is the wrong word to use - even casually - for both ontological and rhetorical reasons, then what do we do on the occasion of its introduction into the conversation? I’m tempted to suggest that we correct the misapprehension by noting that while natural law is not capable of design, it is capable of creativity. But of course such a tactic would be fraught with problems of reference to “creation” and would likely be little improvement over the current situation.

Perhaps what would be best is to simply never concede the point. It may be too much trouble to try and argue labels, “intelligent design” is entrenched terminology and chasing that tail would probably be wasteful and exhausting. But it might serve the debate if, before ever getting around to discussing particular examples of “design,” we note that those qualities which would allow such a designation have not been established in any systematic or analogically revealing fashion. Of course the need to respond to egregious misuse of biological concepts and gaps in our knowledge as evidence of design will sustain as long as the impulse to infer “design” is with us. But it cannot hurt to, at every convenient opportunity, point out that there is no analogical warrant at all for the use of the word.

Mountains out of molehills? I don’t think so. I would note that across the breadth of ID criticism, from theological to philosophical to empirical, it is well understood that “intelligent design” is predominantly a political and marketing enterprise. This understanding obliges attention to the effects of the words they, and we, use. I think that returning the focus to the important context: the “wherefore” that really matters, gets the horse and cart in the correct order, and will more forcefully communicate that “design,” even the appearance of, is a nuanced concept that must be demonstrated, not assumed.

References

• Michael Behe. Design for Living. N.Y. Times, 2/7/2005
• Dawkins, Richard. The Blind Watchmaker. 1986. W.W. Norton & Co.
• Nancy Pearcey. We're Not in Kansas Anymore, Why secular scientists and media can’t admit that Darwinism might be wrong. Christianity Today. 5/22/2000.
• David Snoke. In Favor of God-of-the-Gaps Reasoning. Perspectives on Science and Christian Faith. 9/2001.

Brian: “Brothers, brothers...We mustn't fight each other! Surely we should be united against the common enemy!

Insurgents: “The Judean People’s Front?!”

Brian: “No, no! The Romans!”

Insurgents: “Oh, yeah. Yeah.”

Everyone who recognizes the above lines from the Monty Python movie Life of Brian knows that this is part of a running gag about how a seemingly homogenous crowd can splinter and fragment at the slightest whiff of political opportunity and barest tug of predictable human nature.

In the movie there are several groups (including the People’s Front of Judea, the Judean People’s Front, the Campaign for a Free Galilee etc.), all of whom oppose the Roman occupation. But these groups seem to spend more time squabbling amongst each other than actually fighting the Romans.

And anyone who’s been following the currently roiling waters of anti-creationist discussion will apprehend the (painfully obvious) parallel immediately.

Touched off by Richard Dawkins controversial book, The God Delusion, in which Dawkins tries to encourage a skeptical view of religion and its place in society, the resulting arguments have led to a fission (accompanied by the expected release of energy) within the ‘defense of science’ community.

In one corner we have the People’s Front for the Defense of Science (PFDS). These freedom fighters believe that science cannot directly address questions of Faith and God and react strongly to the use of tactics that seem to confirm creationists’ fears about atheism underlying the scientific study of evolution. It is their conviction that maintaining a strict separation of science and religion, at least for the purposes of mounting a successful defense of evolutionary biology, is a strategy that will avoid the self-defeating outcome of turning fence-sitting theists into full-throated creationists.

In another corner we have the Science Defense Front (SDF). This doughty bunch of warriors believes that because religion is the basis for attacks on evolution it’s a mistake of appeasement to oppose only the scientific misunderstandings of creationists and not go to the root of the problem. They see this root (religion) as spreading tendrils of irrationality throughout much of society, thus leaving the ground fallow for the continued re-emergence of anti-science nonsense. They also feel that for too long religion has been treated with intellectual kid gloves. They have taken off the gloves.

Where do I come down? Well, for the answer to that let’s consider another scene from “Life of Brian,”

Reg: “Right. You're in. Listen. The only people we hate more than the Romans are the f**king Judean People’s Front.”

Stan: “Yeah, the Judean People’s Front.”

Reg: “Yeah. Splitters.”

Stan: “And the Popular Front of Judea.”

Reg: “Yeah. Splitters.”

Stan: “And the People’s Front of Judea.”

Reg: “Yea... what?”

Stan: “The People’s Front of Judea. Splitters.”

Reg: “We're the People’s Front of Judea!”

Stan: “Oh. I thought we were the Popular Front.”

Reg: “People’s Front!”

Francis: “Whatever happened to the Popular Front, Reg?”

Reg: “He’s over there.” [points to a lone man]

Reg, Stan, Francis, Judith: “SPLITTER!”

For the moment, then, I’m going to call my position the Popular Front for Science Defense. Why? Because I think everyone else is wrong. Not irrevocably wrong, just wrongheaded enough that they’ve confused some of the issues.

Let me make it clear that I am not one of those fretful Pollyannas who orbit the fray begging those involved to just get along. I don’t see this disunity as an embarrassment (“Careful, Dear, the creationists are watching.”). I think it’s healthy and desirable to work this stuff out, especially in the open air where everyone can become familiar with, and incorporate into their own position, those arguments which will hopefully lead to a productive détente.

But getting back to being a splitter: What I do think is unfortunate is that these dust-ups have become nasty in some cases. And leaving aside the expected influence of ego jockeying I suspect what lies at the heart of this nastiness is the extrapolation from a legitimate argument to one that is misguided.

Here’s what I mean. Take the SDF for example. These guys are absolutely correct that religion lies at the core of creationism and many other kinds of contemporary irrationality. They believe religion is inherently irrational. And I agree with them. But the crucial fact of this particular matter is that people can hold an irrational belief yet not act irrationally. Yes, we all oppose creationists and other pseudo-science adherents, the compelling reason for this being that they seek to inflict their irrationality on others. But while we might all agree that a fundamental belief in a non-natural entity is indeed irrational, it is not at all clear that those who hold this belief, while still valuing and sustaining culturally rational behavior, can be fairly accused (as suggested by the SDF) of maintaining the ground for irrationality. Why? Because a good argument can be made that what these individuals say and do in acting rationally more than compensates for any irrational concepts they hold on faith and pass along to their children.

In other words to see only two intellectual positions in this discussion (religious and not) is to miss critical philosophical and (more importantly) behavioral nuances of worldview which exert considerable influence on the kind of society in which we live. And trying to understand and respect the nuanced approach of some religious individuals is in no way tantamount to arguing for the rationality of their beliefs, it’s just common sense. This is not appeasement; it is simple recognition that dismissal of the broad contribution of an individual based upon a narrowly defined criterion is a needlessly severe and ultimately self-defeating choice.

Now someone of the SDF persuasion might counter that the poll numbers suggest there are just not that many people (irrational core belief/rational behavior) of the kind I propose. This is possible. However, I would just observe that if one does indeed believe those numbers, it would seem obvious that our side cannot succeed without somehow engaging and convincing a great number of “them,” a fact which obliges care for how that engagement is handled.

As to the PFDS, well I think they really need to lose the attitude that suggests this debate can be strictly bounded and rhetorically directed. Yes, it is true that opposition to creationism need not, and should not (if it can be avoided) necessitate entanglement with discussion of atheism and religion. But it is seldom that the defender of science is the one who makes this an issue. Indeed, it is often an issue that cannot be avoided. There are places wherein evolutionary science conflicts with the particulars of dogma and it is perfectly reasonable to point out that if one’s Faith requires rejection of empirically established reality then one’s Faith is (at least on that point) a load of twaddle.

This brings us to what I see as the most salient point of The God Delusion. I concur with those who opine that the book falls short of establishing that God does not exist. But as I read it I took its most important message to be that we, rather than agreeing God is delusory, need to consider those effects that propagate from a believer’s acceptance of that “delusion.” In the final analysis it’s not important whether or not God really exists. What is important is the behavior of those who believe in him. And as Dawkins goes to great pains to point out, the behavior of those of Faith often leaves plenty to be desired.

What I’m saying, then, is that (contrary to the view often put forth by the PFDS) this is a discussion that must take place. These issues of Faith and religion are ones that must be confronted, not avoided, in the context of a defense of science. Just as it is a mistake for one side to ignore the relative merits of the behavior of those of Faith, it is also a mistake for the other side to ignore the clear relevance of irrational extrapolations of Faith to the debate over evolution.

Yes, it’s important to consider one’s words carefully. But too often those who wish to avoid antagonizing seem to really be arguing for sanitizing the dialogue. If you take Dawkins’ point that we need to cease treating religion as a special case, and I do, then you realize that the sensibilities of those who ascribe to irrationality are inevitably going to be bruised. Heck, some actively invite the bruising; it would be impolite not to accommodate them.

Even so, I believe that people are, for the most part, reasonable. Further, I believe that most religious individuals are functionally reasonable regardless of the irrationality of any particular personal article of Faith. As such I think it is logical to presume that a majority of them will recognize that the sometimes-harsh treatment of the implausible and insecure Faith of creationists is well deserved.

The PFDS might rejoin that it is a strawman argument to suggest that they are unwilling to face up to appropriate discussion of religion within the context of science. This is possible. I just wish they’d stop getting their panties in a knot every time someone introduces a “provocative” idea, e.g., the notion the teaching children religion is akin to child abuse. I don’t agree with this assertion but I do think it deserves more than chafed rejection. It may be overwrought, but it only seems incendiary because we are conditioned to give religion a wide intellectual berth.

Let me sum up by agreeing with those who hope we will someday live in a world that eschews irrationality (and I do include supernatural beliefs in that category). As we all (including Richard Dawkins) agree that science cannot disprove God, it seems logical to me that the best we can hope for in the current climate is to keep religion at arms length while trying to foster an environment that is conducive to progress. In service of this goal, I think we would all do well to recognize that historical change is often a two steps forward, one step back affair. We won’t be able to take any steps at all if we avoid open, perhaps even antagonistic examination of the issues. But by the same token, we’ll be able to gain more ground on the next forward steps if we don’t force a big reactionary backward step by shoving shallow and counterproductive accusations in the faces of those who try to behave ethically and think (for the most part) rationally.

It’s not that I am worried about anyone’s feelings. It’s just that I think it will be easier to take the next step forward if we don’t shoot ourselves in the foot...like some splitter.

“The clarion call of the intelligent design movement is to “teach the controversy.” There is a very real controversy centering on how properly to account for biological complexity (cf. the ongoing events in Kansas), and it is a scientific controversy.”¹

This comment from William Dembski demonstrates the use of what must be the most ubiquitous sound bite offered by “Intelligent design” (ID) advocates. “Teach the controversy” has been employed throughout the breadth and depth of the ID movement both as an attack upon the “academic unfairness” of an evolutionary monopoly on origins instruction, and as a call to arms for those slighted by such perceived persecution. As both a declaration and a shibboleth, it is one of the lashings holding together, if tenuously, the “big tent” of creationism.

“Controversy” rhetoric has likely floated around this debate for as long as individuals have noticed the difference between scriptural and scientific explanations of the natural world. But for the purposes of discussion of ID, we can look to a piece written by Stephen Meyer of the Discovery Institute (an ID think tank in Seattle) for its modern codification as a political strategy. During public discussion of education standards in the state of Ohio, Meyer presented his ideas by way of a brief essay entitled “Teach the controversy.”² His piece begins,

“When two groups of experts disagree about a controversial subject that intersects the public school curriculum students should learn about both perspectives.

In such cases teachers should not teach as true only one competing view, just the Republican or Democratic view of the New Deal in a history class, for example. Instead, teachers should describe competing views to students and explain the arguments for and against these views as made by their chief proponents. Educators call this “teaching the controversy.”²

Of course what everyone has known since Meyer launched this line of argumentation, and several (including myself ³) have addressed in print, is that Meyer’s controversy is a false construction. Assured that one can always find a PhD who will express support for any particular notion, and trusting that all he needs to do is sow the seeds of doubt, Meyer builds his argument upon the idea that “two groups of experts disagree” as if there is an equivalence of opinion on the issue.

But the false definitions have been obvious from the beginning. Meyer was not outlining a professional controversy between groups of experts on evolution. He was merely renaming the conflict that already existed between biologists and creationists, as did his colleagues who wrote the ID text Of Pandas and People (wherein the word “creationism” was crossed out and “intelligent design” substituted), and hoping to summarily qualify this long-running debate for inclusion in educational curricula ⁴.

Critics argue that the controversy to which ID proponents refer is political in nature and thus, by definition, prohibited from the scientific educational curricula. ID proponents, however, simply ignore this argument and continue to lay claim to a “scientific controversy.”

What is needed is an overt demonstration of the truth or falsity of their assertion. Should such a development reveal no dispute, it would force the recognition of “teach the controversy” as a marketing ploy, and further place ID as a political movement. Is there, then, a way to determine the unvarnished truth of this claim? Is there a voice of authority on the issue? In fact, there is.

The Question

“If you want to know how old the earth is, go ask a geologist” ⁵

Accepting this ironic bit of advice from a Discovery Institute fellow, the way to determine the truth of “teach the scientific controversy” seemed obvious. If there are authoritative voices on the purported existence of a controversy among biologists regarding mechanisms of evolution, they belong to those individuals who are well aware of the most current scholarship in their field and are in touch with daily discussion of that scholarship. This effectively describes the heads of prominent research university biology departments.

Needing, then, a fairly comprehensive list of such institutions I consulted The Top American Research Universities, an annual compiled and released by The Lombardi Program on Measuring University Performance out of the University of Florida ⁶. This document gathers data regarding the amount and type of research investments and collates the information so as to be useful from several different perspectives. For my purposes a table entitled “Research by Major Discipline (Institutions with over $20 million in federal research, alphabetically)” served nicely. This table broke down expenditure by discipline, enabling me to remove from my list universities that devoted less than 5% to the life sciences.

After compiling the list of schools, I set about gathering the names and email addresses of the relevant department heads. In the case that I could find a Chair/Dean etc. of a College or Department of Biological Sciences I chose this option. In some cases no such position existed - Sciences is often part of a College of Arts and Sciences for which the dean or chair may not be a biologist (and therefore not a suitable subject for my investigation). Often the Biology part of the Sciences college is broken down into smaller departments, each with its own chairperson. Thus, in the case of finding no general biology department head, I looked next for a chair of Cell Biology or Molecular biology or Biochemistry. I did this for two reasons. First, although it is well understood that the great bulk of ID “theory” consists mostly of complaints about gaps in current evolutionary understanding, those few substantive biological arguments that have been advanced all exist in the realm of the cell and its components. I reasoned that individuals involved with this type of work would be more likely to be familiar with the most current information. Secondly, I did not wish to be seen to bias the question by primarily asking individuals from Evolutionary Bio (usually Ecology and Evolutionary Biology) departments although I was, in a very few cases, left with only this option.

The only schools from the annual list not contacted in this survey are those that allotted less than 5% for life science, and those for which no email contact could be found.

I then set about composing an email and phrasing the question. In doing so the goal was to be brief, non-provocative, and very specific. I tried to set up my query in such a way as to recognize and separate personal from professional perspectives. The initial email contact, then, included a brief introduction and the following,

Survey of Biological Sciences department heads regarding “Teach the controversy.”

Q: Regarding the issue of “Intelligent Design theory” vs. current biological consensus on the mechanisms of evolution - is there a difference of professional opinion within your department that you feel could be accurately described as a scientific controversy?

1. No
2. Yes

Comments:

I assured each individual that comments were not necessary but welcome should they feel so inclined, and let them know that neither their words nor names would be used without permission. I was to regret not having asked for this permission up front.

The Answer

Of the 158 initial query emails sent over two days I received 73 responses, 45 of which included comments (Table 1). Both of these numbers far exceeded my expectations. Although I’d planned to send a second email thanking the respondents for their time and asking (what I expected to be) the few who sent comments for their permission to quote, I had not expected such an extended second round of emails. Of the 45 responses with comments, 27 allowed me their use, only two of those asking that I withhold their name. Considering the vicissitudes of email, the extra bother to very busy people, and the natural desire not to cause any potential distraction for an employer, I found the overall response to be instructive.

Over 97% of the responding Bio dept. heads answered in the negative — affirming that there is no scientific controversy at their institution (Table 1). Just one individual (1.4%) hedged by allowing that there was one faculty member who publicly supports ID (see Comments), but this observation was followed by the assertion that the “vast majority” do not consider ID scientific and thus see no scientific controversy. And one individual (1.4%) responded with a positive recognition of a scientific controversy. It must be noted that this lone “Yes” response came from a theological medical university.

In trying to anticipate possible protests about the methodology of this study I can think of only the following,

1. “Teach the controversy” is proposed as an alternative to teaching “Intelligent design.” The survey question advances a false dichotomy.

   This is likely to be the most prevalent rejoinder to the paper. However it is nearly as disingenuous as the “Teach the controversy” slogan itself. The controversy rhetoric is virtually indistinguishable from that which proponents advance as the substance of “Intelligent design.” Both are collections of grievances about gaps in evolutionary theory and the lack of details regarding particular mechanisms. They do not offer an alternative, other than the label. “Teach the controversy” is simply the rebadged incredulity of “Intelligent design.”

2. Department heads may not respond forthrightly for fear of losing their jobs or affecting their institution’s endowments.

   All comments received were straightforward and without guise or artifice, including the equivocal and positive responses. And in my initial email I made it clear (and have followed through on this) that no names would be released without expressed permission.

   One might also turn that protest around to suggest that the lone “Yes” response came from an institution in which it might serve individuals to act as if they accept the possibility of ID when in fact they do not.

   But the most important point is this — if individuals are keeping their true opinions under wraps how then can anyone infer that there is a “scientific controversy” in play? For this to be the case there would have to be unreserved support for, and active discussion of, such conflicts. If there are no vocal scientist proponents — there is no scientific controversy.

3. This survey does not speak to the cosmological evidence, and any controversy thereof, regarding “Intelligent Design.”

   True enough. I queried only heads of Biology departments. But the world of biology is unquestionably the focus of the ID movement as regards teaching “the controversy.” Behe’s “irreducible complexity,” Dembski’s “specified complexity” and Meyer’s mystifying difficulties with the Cambrian explosion all address, and question, current evolutionary biological consensus ⁷.

   In any case it is simply not possible to argue that one should “teach the controversy” regarding cosmological design because this very clearly runs afoul of the establishment clause. Any designer capable of creating the universe must be considered beyond the merely natural. Both Behe and Dembski have made clear the necessary transcendent nature of a cosmological designer.

4. The results of the survey are biased or self-selecting. Those who might answer in the affirmative were less likely to reply.

   Always a possibility. I tried to avoid provocative language and encourage as many responses, from both sides (should they exist), as possible. I made it clear that I was not neutral but included no views of my own. I tried to phrase the question so there could be no mistaking that this was about professional, not personal, opinion. And I tried to make answering the question as painless as possible.

   The emails are there for evaluation (in the unabridged paper). I cannot see the bias, however I allow that it may exist. But should this be the case one must ask - is it of such an egregious nature as to so overwhelmingly skew the results?

   In addition, I submit that if indeed there is a scientific controversy the nature of “controversy” itself implies a desire for a hearing. I would not expect those who see a controversy to demur, I’d expect their “persecuted” position to be over-represented, if only by dint of passion.

5. Only biologists were surveyed.

   It perverts logic to propose that anyone but biologists should be asked whether there exists within the biological disciplines a scientific controversy, the protests of philosophers and theologians notwithstanding.

Conclusions

Professors from Washington to Florida and from southern California to New England responded to the question, all but two with an unqualified “No” (some even added an exclamation point). And those two divergent responses serve to point up the open and thoughtful nature of the answers. One, a “No, but...” observed that there was virtually no professional controversy within their department but acknowledged that one colleague had spoken favorably of the concept publicly (see Comments). And the only assent to controversy came from an institution dedicated to an ideological view of the world, including the world of biology. This may serve as evidence of a “controversy” in that particular university. But in the larger context, its effect is only to put the overwhelming consensus into sharper focus.

There is no party line, there are no knee-jerk responses in the comments received (though there is a good bit of candor). These results are born of the understanding, among those with authoritative opinions, of where the proper lines between scientific and religious epistemologies must be drawn. Some even teach classes that include discussion of “Intelligent Design” but they understand that it is not science, and that there is no relevant controversy.

I harbor no illusions that this information will come as a surprise to any scientist, and I suspect most clear-thinking non-scientists will have already surmised the truth of the situation. In discussion of this project I have referred to it as a study or survey, but to be candid it is really nothing more a simple canvassing of those who know. It is a blunt and unequivocal response to what has up to this point been treated, by much of the media as well as the ID movement, as an acceptable assumption.

As an attempt to put empirical weight behind that which has been well understood all along, the numbers here are unambiguous. There is no “scientific” controversy regarding “Intelligent Design theory.” It exists as a conceit of personal ideology, and persists as a political strategy. And in the case that the slogan is still employed once the user has been informed of this survey it can be considered a deliberate falsehood.

If “Intelligent Design” proponents and theorists wish to carve out space for their “controversy” they will have to earn it in the traditional fashion. They will have to do the research, submit to peer-reviewed journals, and accumulate enough evidence to be spoken of with respect, not dismissal, in biology departments across the country.

Until then “teach the scientific controversy” will remain a mendacious bit of hucksterism.

Comments

Selected remarks from department heads. (The professors quoted below have given permission to use their words and names. I have chosen not to include their university affiliations.)

“No”

The entire biological sciences field from biochemistry to ecology is predicated on the fact of evolution. In 100 years of intensive research no facts inconsistent with evolutionary theory have ever been found. On the contrary, as we have obtained more and more detailed information, especially at the molecular and genomic levels, both the fact that evolution has occurred, creating the species currently existing on earth (including man), and the various mechanisms by which this occurs have become more and more clear. The question is not whether evolution has occurred, but which mechanisms have been most important. There is no need to invoke the supernatural or any higher power to explain life on earth. There is no controversy whatsoever among the many thousands of scientists in the field about the fact of evolution.
Tom Blumenthal

The answer is “No” . There is no scientific controversy because there is no scientific relationship between “Intelligent design (Formerly Creation Science) and Evolution. They are neither compatible nor incompatible. Members of my department are quite knowledgeable on the use of the scientific method in science while they are equally knowledgeable and tolerant of different religious beliefs. All see ID as religion and it does not meet the criteria of science. It is viewed as unintelligent to discuss the two together. Since they are based on different methodologies that are not compatible by any intellectual measure. ID is religion and should be discussed in that vein. We (biochemists) see Evolution and the phylogenetic origin of living systems at the molecular level. It is very real and determined with scientific methodology. This has no bearing on the religious belief of many scientist on their spirituality and deep personal beliefs of a superior being. Then there are those who refuse to accept the phylogenetic evolutionary organization of species as a matter of challenges to their Faith.
Earl D. Mitchell Jr.

I have not heard one faculty member in my department speak in favor of ID as a scientific alternative to classic mechanisms of evolution. In fact we have had a number of faculty who have written editorials and been interviewed on the subject and who have tried to explain the position of most biologists. Our department offers a course for non-majors entitled Evolution and Creationism and sponsors a Darwin Day. In these venues and in other seminars and discussions, we try to present both sides in a rationale way. But the message is always the same—ID is not a scientific approach to the origin of species.
A.P. Wheeler

The bottom line is that there is no controversy about Intelligent Design. Science is what it is. It has nothing to say about God or religion. It has nothing to say about Intelligent Design other than that it is an untestable concept and therefore is not science. The flip side of that coin is that Intelligent Design has nothing to say about scientific theories, Darwin’s or anyone else’s. Any “controversy” that might be invoked is an artificial one designed, in my view, to serve another purpose.
W. Geoffrey Owen

Absolutely no controversy regarding the reality of evolution in biology or its basic mechanisms. Evolution of life on earth from a common ancestor is the best supported and most important general principle in biology.
Thomas D. Pollard

No, there is no difference of professional opinion within my department that could be accurately described as a scientific controversy regarding the issue of “Intelligent Design theory” vs. current biological consensus on the mechanisms of evolution. Unanimously, evolution is accepted as a valid scientific discipline and intelligent design is not. No one feels that intelligent design can be considered “scientific” or should be taught in the science classroom.
Rob McClung

There is no sense in which “Intelligent Design” is science - as logic, it is an example of the argumentum ad ignorantiam, a material fallacy, and there is no associated experimental program or testable hypothesis. Thus, there could be no scientific controversy.

What surprises me is that there is so little concern among the religious about what poor theology it is - surely people with genuine faith wouldn’t require a scientific proof of their beliefs, and wouldn’t accept a proof based on what we do not know, as what we do not know is diminishing with time.
Elliot Meyerowitz

I can state unequivocally that there is no controversy in my department among the faculty on the concept of “Intelligent Design” as a scientific hypothesis that could account for the biological world as we see it. At the end of the day, the theory of “Intelligent Design” is not a scientific theory. We all know that for a theory to be “scientific,” it must be refutable. The theory of evolution is refutable. However, after all the work focused on evolution over the past 100+ years, no study has refuted this theory. In contrast, no experiment can be designed to test the hypothesis of “Intelligent Design” that could possible refute the hypothesis.
R. Thomas Zoeller

Scientific controversies, of which there are many, arise and are settled in the peer-reviewed scientific literature — on the basis of available evidence. There is no controversy within science itself arising from the idea of intelligent design. I am not aware of anyone giving credence to intelligent design (or conversely, casting doubt on evolution) in the department. If they had such evidence, I would urge them to publish it and instantly become rich and famous!
Frank Messina

There is no controversy. Evolution is fundamental to the understanding of Biology, and the several theories by which evolution can be explained comprise a dynamic, honest discussion of scientific thought. However, of all of these, no one seriously considers “intelligent design” as an honest alternative. I will go further. Proponents of intelligent design have displayed an inordinate level of intellectual dishonesty.
Vincent M. Cassone

No controversy in our biological sciences department of 40 faculty. All faculty accept that mutation occurs, and that populations have changes in gene frequencies over time, some leading to changes in form and function. Many faculty hold religious beliefs, but none of the faculty challenge the validity of evolution and the general time frame that evolution has taken place on Earth (i.e., over billions of years). “Intelligent design” is viewed as a religious and social discussion, not a matter of science.
Robert H. Jones

Most of the issues raised in “teaching the controversy” are actually misconceptions about evolutionary biology or misrepresentations of current understanding. There are many unsettled questions in evolutionary biology, but these are no more controversial than any other unsettled questions in science more generally. Intelligent Design Theory is not really an explanatory theory in any sense.
Joseph F. Koonce

So far as ‘teaching’ the so-called controversy, I think that it should be discussed, but as a social science, political science, or philosophical issue because it is a ‘current event’ in our society. However, it would not be appropriate to include this as part of a science curriculum simply because there is no science behind ID, it is only an untested hypothesis. [It is incumbent on the proponents of ID to change this situation.]
Larry Forney

If any aspect of the concept of evolution turns out to be incorrect, then this will only be determined by scientific investigation. ID is a fairly untestable and unscientific hypothesis, therefore, impossible to prove or disprove. In light of this consideration, if we start teaching ID, it is hard to imagine how this can be done in the context of science. In fairness, if ID is taught in any context, then we also should include teaching of other views on the matter. In this event, would we include the views of the Raelians? This gets absurd pretty quickly.
Daniel Carson

This question has been discussed several times amongst my faculty and I can respond definitively that 100% of the faculty in my department (26 persons) support the theory of evolution and not a single person considers ID a legitimate scientific concept. Thus, there is no professional controversy. The claim by ID proponents that there is growing support for ID by trained scientists is simply not supported by the data. The lack of data, by the way, is the fundamental problem with ID as a scientific concept.
Dan Bush

The faculty in my department variously regard the ID crowd as insane, ignorant, dangerous, or the butt of jokes. Among our group, ID is considered a not-so-subtle cover for Christian fundamentalist creationism. There are ongoing controversies within the field of evolutionary biology, as in ALL intellectually vibrant scientific disciplines. However, there is no controversy among our faculty about the broad ideas of modern evolutionary biology; that evolution has occurred through processes of natural selection, isolation with genetic drift, and sexual selection. In life sciences, evolution has the same status as a “theory” as the idea that genetic information is encoded by nucleic acids, or that cells are bounded by membranes. That is to say, the evidence is so strong and comes from so many directions, that to deny these fundamental concepts is, in the Year of Our Lord 2006, to be delusional.
Stuart Dryer

“No, but...”

There is one faculty member in my college who publicly ascribes to Intelligent Design. No others have done so publicly, and most who have shared an opinion are opposed to ID as a scientific principle. The vast majority, then, do not see a scientific controversy, but there is a visible minority of (at least) one who does.
(Name withheld)

“Yes”

(I have not received permission to print this name and comments.)

References

1. William Dembski - Teaching Intelligent Design: What Happened When? http://www.arn.org/docs/dembski/wd_teachingid0201.htm
2. Stephen C. Meyer — Teach the controversy. http://www.discovery.org/scripts/viewDB/index.php?program=CSC&command=view&id=1134
3. Camp, Robert. 2004. “Teach the controversy” - An “intelligently designed” ruse. Skeptical Inquirer.
4. Missing Link Discovered. Nick Matzke. NCSE. http://www2.ncseweb.org/wp/?p=80
5. Pat Sherman. 2005. The Missing Link. San Diego CityBeat. http://www.sdcitybeat.com/article.php?id=3784
6. Lombardi et al. 2003. The Top American Research Universities. University of Florida. p112. http://thecenter.ufl.edu/research2003.pdf
   
Lombardi et al. 2004. The Top American Research Universities. University of Florida. p74. http://thecenter.ufl.edu/research2004.pdf
7. Meyer’s Hopeless Monster. Gishlick et al. Talk Reason. http://www.talkreason.org/articles/Meyer.cfm

“One thing that literature would be greatly the better for
Would be a more restricted employment by the authors of simile and metaphor.”

These lines from Ogden Nash’s clever poem Very Like a Whale begin an irreverent piece about the overly florid tone of some poetry. Rejecting excessive use of such comparative devices as “simile and metaphor,” Nash neatly skewers ostentation and delights the reader with clever rhymes and silly verse as he calls for the clarity of simple observation,

“Authors of all races, be they Greeks, Romans, Teutons or Celts,
Can't seem just to say that anything is the thing it is but have to go out of their way to say that it is like something else.”

It’s likely that Nash, having been born a hundred years after William Paley died, and a hundred years before “intelligent design” (ID) became a household phrase, intended his remonstrations strictly for the poetic arts, but his points are well taken as they apply to certain aspects of the current debate over biological evolution. After all, both sides do employ comparative devices and analogies (e.g. biologists often refer to cellular systems as machines). Of course when a cell biologist says a particular protein structure is a little machine he is hoping to elucidate its structure or function. However, when ID proponents, from Paley to present, use the argument, they are hoping to imply much more. They mean to illuminate a structure’s purposive creation.

William Paley was, of course, the nineteenth century philosopher who made famous the “watch on the heath” argument. This was his contention that after discovering a pocket-watch lost in the verge, and considering its origins (presumably while on the way to the pawn shop), one would not be inclined to conclude that the watch was a part of the natural world. One would recognize, as a result of it’s complicated and obviously designed configuration, that the watch was the product of an intelligent agency. Paley was trying to logically support the corollary that man, owing to his own complex and interdependent innards, is also a product of design, albeit of the transcendental sort.

So it happens that Paley has, if not overused, then certainly overstretched a simile, in this case - men are like watches, therefore therein, ipso facto, and so on and so on. The modern “intelligent design” movement broadens this teleological analogy to include “order” and “information,” and de-emphasizes its application to gross morphology. In essence, proponents of ID have tried to update the man/watch metaphor in the hope it will be more scientifically, and legally, palatable. Thus, as regards the contemporary controversy, the important question is not whether someone like Paley can be forgiven this device on poetic grounds but whether the “intelligent design” argument can be so relieved on the merits of logic. In short, does the analogy hold up?

On this the relevant scientific evidence is clear, there are no data derived from investigation of large or small-scale evolutionary processes that require an inference to heretofore-unknown intelligent causal agency. However, “intelligent design” advocates, not satisfied with the provisional nature of scientific inquiry, believe that their “theory” can, and should be extended beyond the data to include some (particularly weak) inductive arguments. And in doing so, they end up commingling incredulity and intuition with a smattering of ambiguous but technical sounding jargon, producing a methodology that can sometimes, at a hasty, sideways glance, resemble science. But due to the presumed conclusions they are ideologically bound to observe, their “theory” never meets the standards of legitimate natural inquiry.

“Obvious,” or oblivious?

One of the most egregious examples of weak ID inductions masquerading as reason is the argument from analogy used in an attempt to establish the validity of a “design” inference. Biological systems and structures are routinely compared to casually recognized artifacts from the broad scope of human activity. The sculpted faces of Mt. Rushmore are an oft-employed example used to argue that inference of design is obvious and uncomplicated. An ID proponent’s hope is to persuade that there is no need to look more deeply into the comparison, that recognizing “design” on a biomolecular level is “very like” the immediate, instinctive identification of Abe Lincoln and his humongous pals as a product of intelligent engineering. In this vein Michael Behe once opined that,

“Design should not be overlooked simply because it’s so obvious.” — Michael Behe, NY Times, 2005

But, of course, this argument is quite flawed. Just a brief evaluation of such a suggestion — that transcendent (non-human) design can be inferred with the same ease with which we reach that conclusion regarding human design - reveals that it is little more than a request for exemption from those rules of investigation that would establish the validity of the proposition itself. It presumes exactly that which requires evidence.

In fact, why worry about evidence at all when there are so many convenient gaps in our knowledge into which a “design” explanation neatly fits? According to Behe,

“...in the absence of any convincing non-design explanation, we are justified in thinking that real intelligent design was involved in life.” - Behe, NY Times, 2005

In other words, all of this is tantamount to saying “look, we know design when we see it, and you have no specific scientific explanation anyway, so we need not fret over producing evidence for “intelligent design, we’ll just assume it.”

But the deficiencies of the design analogy go deeper than mere misapplication. Consider, for a moment, the difference between making a carefully limited statement about a particular shared characteristic, and specifying a shared essential nature. An example will help make the point. In the process of proposing an analogy between my dog and my car, I might observe that both appear to be aligned on a head to tail axis with a dorsal and ventral (top and bottom) orientation. Likewise I might note that both have side-to-side symmetry. These observations are collectively referred to, in biology, as bilateral symmetry. It is a character used to classify organisms at very basal levels.

What is important here is the nature of the conclusions I am entitled to draw from these observations. I could say, for example, that this analogy allows me to infer that for both the dog and the car there may be a preferred direction (i.e. forward), that different processes take place at the opposing ends, and that both have a geotactic (up or down) obligation. These would be reasonable inferences based upon the number of characters taken into account. But I would hardly be justified in extrapolating from this that the dog and car are both animals. To make the argument that the car is an “animal” I need to provide far more than speculation about a couple of shared similarities with animals. I need to compare many, many characters across multiple examples. I need to marshal vast amounts of evidence (including replicated observations) that convincingly make the case. Otherwise I have stretched the usage of “animal” such that it is meaningless for purposes of comparison with “non-animals.” If a car can be an animal, then so can nearly anything else, leaving “animal” as a category without any real distinction, and leaving my analogical conclusion very weakly supported.

Of course if I compared two of the family pets, the dog and a turtle, I would note once again the bilateral symmetry. But in addition to this I could observe that both of their bodies appear to be based on a similar architecture, that of a head, a torso with four limbs, and a tail. Even more, both have integument-enclosed internal systems. There are many additional qualities shared here, and consequently my analogy can be used to infer greater relatedness. They’re both biological organisms, they’re vertebrates; they share spatial orientation characteristics etc., etc. But although the dog and turtle can be considered animals, I cannot draw from this analogy either that they are both turtles, or both dogs. The number of shared similarities doesn’t justify going that far.

The point is that the strength of any analogy depends, in significant measure, upon the nature and number of shared qualities between the phenomena involved. The more similarities between the object of interest and the object to which it is compared the more powerful the analogy, and the more persuasive are the arguments based upon it.

Yet there is an even more glaring flaw in the “machine” analogy. It suffers from a veritable dearth of relevant examples. Just as an increased number of compared similarities improves an analogy so does an increased number of instances of comparison.

Returning to the example of the dog and the car, if my analogy is used to establish that the dog is a human-engineered machine then a comparison with human engineered machines will serve my purpose. But if I’m trying to establish that the dog is “designed” by an other-than-human intelligent agency then I must compare it not only to a car but also to a broader set of intelligently designed artifacts, a set that includes examples of non-human design. In this way, those characteristics diagnostic of “intelligent design,” not simply human design, can be understood and compared. But for obvious reasons ID proponents rely exclusively on the many examples of human design, including mountainous heads and other HEDs (human-engineered devices) of bewildering variety, even though these can hardly be used in the service of an analogy meant to evidence a kind of “design” the existence of which is yet to be demonstrated.

Thus, it doesn’t matter how many metaphors for “machines” we glean from biomolecular structures. The only machines we know (barring some few possibilities from the natural world which do not serve the “design” argument anyway) are human designed. To draw from the machine analogy an inference of “intelligent design,” rather than “human intelligent design,” one needs to provide other examples that sustain this comparison. A selection of extraterrestrial machines would be a good start. But for the best analogical dollar-value, an empirically verified supernaturally designed artifact would really pop the cork. This collection of exemplars, all sharing established “intelligent design” characteristics, would give the ID machine analogy some substance.

What is an “obvious” inductive argument to Behe and other design “theorists” is, to most of the rest of us, an overarching inference that challenges the way we approach natural investigation. Sweeping comparative inductions demand a sweeping set of comparisons. Absent that level of support, the design analogy is a specious appeal to incredulity.

Why settle for half a loaf?

So, do ID proponents accept the limits of the analogy, and merely suggest that some biological structures share some similarities with machines? Heck, no. Take, for example, this from Michael Behe,

“I mean, literally, there are real machines inside everybody’s cells and this is what they are called by all biologists who work in the field, molecular machines. They’re little trucks and busses that run around the cell that takes supplies from one end of the cell to the other. They’re little traffic signals to regulate the flow. They’re signposts to tell them when they get to the right destination. They’re little outboard motors that allow some cells to swim. If you look at the parts of these, they’re remarkably like the machineries that we use in our everyday world.” — Behe, Understanding Creation, Evolution and Intelligent Design, 2005

Or this from Jonathan Wells,

“In the electron microscope, centrioles look like tiny turbines. Using TOPS as my guide, I concluded that if centrioles look like turbines they might actually be turbines.” — Jonathan Wells, Using Intelligent Design Theory to Guide Scientific Research, 2005

Or this from William Dembski,

“There are structures in the cell that don’t just resemble humanly built machines-they actually are machines in every sense of the word.” — William Dembski, Five Questions a Darwinist Would Rather Dodge, 2004

“Every sense of the word?” We don’t see a lot of equivocation or restraint in any of the above statements. But does Dembski really believe that certain cellular structures are machines in “every sense of the word?” Of course not. He wants his reader to take from this comment the sense that for him is most important, that these things had to have been transcendentally designed. Does Wells believe that calling a centriole a turbine (rather than simply noting that the centriole acts like a turbine) is an act of rigorous scientific observation? How could he? A “turbine” is a specific man-made device. Regardless of the degree to which centrioles act like turbines they cannot be said to “actually be turbines” unless one is proposing either that centrioles are designed and built by humans, or that the word “turbine” has no specific meaning. It is semantic sophistry. It is partisan rhetoric, not science. Wells clearly hopes that this suggestive terminology will communicate the need for his “designer.”

And does Michael Behe really think that there are little vehicles with wheels and expletive-shouting drivers tooling down the cellular interstate? I sure hope not. But he apparently feels this analogy is inductively justified, and because of his precommitment to a belief that is scientifically irrelevant he is willing to stake his reputation on such foolish argumentation. The logical grounds for such an inference are woefully inadequate to his purposes. We cannot say that both a dog and a car share an essential nature called “animal” from which we draw inferences as to their ontogeny (what, the car developed from an embryo?). And neither can we infer that both are “machines,” birthed at the behest of a “designing” creator. The same proscription applies to any similar comparison using biomolecular systems.

So what’s the big deal?

There is a vast reservoir of data and documentation pertaining to the biological disciplines. There are many, many journals, textbooks, scholarly papers and databases full of observations, methods and conclusions drawn from the experiences of biologists. Even a cursory examination of this work demonstrates that similes, metaphors, casual analogies and teleological references are ubiquitous in the literature.

Professors often refer to evolutionary processes using terms such as “try” and “goal” (e.g. “the organism’s goal is to pass on its genes to the next generation) as if biology acts in accord with a plan. And scientists frequently use similes to characterize the functions of particular structures,

“Why do we call the large protein assemblies that underlie cell function protein machines? Precisely because, like machines invented by humans, these protein assemblies contain highly coordinated living parts.” — Bruce Alberts, Cell, The Cell as a Collection of Protein Machines, 1998

Though there may well be a few biologists who use this terminology because they feel it reflects higher order purpose, for the vast majority of scientists it is simply a device of convenience, a way of avoiding the awkward phraseology that would come from having to launder their language of all shorthand teleological references.

And this clearly leaves the door wide open to nearly limitless opportunities for quote-mining and the dissemination of deliberate misinterpretation. These efforts certainly do nothing to undergird the empirical framework of ID “theory,” nor are they really meant to. Comments such as those from Behe et al above do not reflect thoughtful scientific inquiry; they reveal the bias of an agenda. They are slogans intended to bolster the confidence of the faithful and nudge the less educated fence-sitters.

Some biologists find the situation intolerable. In a more serious echo of Ogden Nash’s sentiments, Indiana University professor Rudy Raff wrote recently,

“...let us not play into the hands of ID propagandists. For instance, be careful about using teleological words to describe biological entities in our teaching and writing. Calling cells “machines that do X” or describing biological structures as “well designed to do Y” will be duly cited in ID propaganda as one more biologist-supporting design.” — Raff, Stand up for evolution, Evolution and Development, 2005

Although I am sympathetic with Raff’s goals here (and it certainly would not hurt for most people writing and thinking about these issues to order and communicate their thoughts more appropriately) it’s hard to imagine his admonition ever really taking hold. These types of references are simply too convenient, and natural for humans who view the world through pattern seeking eyes, to be easily weeded out of the language or the literature.

The fault lies with those who would twist these innocuous semantic devices to their own ends. It happens with enlightening infrequency that someone misapprehends the contemplation of a physicist who opines that the universe “needs” dark matter, or the chemist who describes negative ions as “wanting” to bond with positive ions. That this convenient phraseology is so often abused by those who wish to attack evolution says something about the motives of the individuals involved, not about the nature of the science.

It is not the intent of “intelligent design” proponents who push the machine metaphor (and the selective quotation of scientists who use it) merely to highlight particular similarities or even to dramatize biological characters for the purpose of clarity. Their goal is to appeal to intuition by way of provocative imagery, and so persuade without presentation of evidence.

Thus it is clear that the use of the “machine” analogy is simply another ID marketing strategy. As with other for-public-consumption arguments such as “teach the controversy” and “academic freedom” and “ID is science just like SETI,” their goal is the cynical manipulation of popular opinion.

Biological systems may indeed be considered similar to machines in some broad senses, but they are clearly not machines in the way design proponents (who often display computer crafted machine-like graphics of structures such as the flagellum) wish to imply.

“If you actually look at these “machines", they don’t resemble anything at all from our macroscopic world. Well, except maybe these: [Picture of pop-bead toys] Remember those? Maybe you played with them as a kid, or have kids who have tinkered with them. They're just little beads of various shapes and colors with a knob on one side and a socket on the other, and you can string them together by popping the knob on one into the socket on another. Look closely at those things Behe is calling “trucks” and “busses” and “traffic signals", and what you find are pop bead necklaces, or proteins.” — Paul Myers, Genes, machines, mutations

The analogy with machines is meant to lead the credulous past those pesky empirical details Myers describes to a position where their natural inclination to see patterns and purposes in their existence kicks in. It is typical of how ID argumentation appeals to emotion and vanity.

And it is illustrative of how the ID movement virtually ignores research in favor of pursuit of public sentiment, demonstrating further that “intelligent design” theory is not “very like” science at all.