Now, the point I’d like to make is this: the fact that we don’t comprehend something doesn’t necessarily mean that the thing is absurd. Or profound. Our mere lack of comprehension should not cause us either to dismiss it out of hand or to think that it must be wonderfully brilliant. This is a somewhat obvious cautionary reminder, but people have a tendency to view ideas and other things they don’t quite understand as being at one of these two extremes. For example, an awful lot of total nonsense has been written by cultural relativists about there being no such thing as objective truth, that truth is nothing but a mere cultural artifact, a social creation and convention, and that goes for science and all other values of all descriptions about everything. Postmodern philosophers write incredible rubbish about science, about art, about literature, about anything that comes to mind, and the intellectually chic and with-it lap it up, because they’ve decided it must be very profound stuff if they can’t fathom it. (Of course they don’t say they can’t fathom it.) And if our pretensions go the other way, if our intellectual posturings respond in the alternative direction, we decide that if we, in all our glorious and majestic wisdom, can’t understand something, it must, ipso facto and slam dunk, not be worth our time and effort to try. Both attitudes, both posturings, are self-destructive of intellect. Both should be avoided like the plague.

It’s not easy to do this, to keep our minds open and at the same time know when to slam them shut, to know what is very possible, what is vaguely plausible, and what is total crap. Naturally, the more we know about the subject, the more likely it is that we won’t come to ridiculous conclusions about it. But there’s no ironclad guarantee about that. Very knowledgeable people have come to very wrong and even stupid conclusions about all manner of things throughout human history, even before Aristotle, one of the most intelligent human beings who ever lived and who came to all kinds of wrong conclusions. And then there was his teacher, Plato, who has confused more people about more things over more time than anyone else who ever lived. So it isn’t that the experts are necessarily stupid (not necessarily) as much as it is that they lack enough detailed knowledge and therefore the ability (often through no fault of their own—Newton would have profited by having knowledge of special and general relativity but can hardly be blamed for this failure) to use that knowledge properly, to work out, interpret what facts they do have in the right way, because the facts they don’t have and maybe can’t possibly have preclude this. Added to this is the likelihood that they can’t possibly know precisely what facts they are lacking. Generally, no one can be blamed, but that shouldn’t prevent us from bearing this problem in mind the next time an expert tells us something based on his expertise. More worryingly, there are many occasions when the experts can be and should be blamed, even scientific ones. Witness the Bogdanov brothers, proclaimed as geniuses by one set of physics experts and as makers of absolute rubbish by another set of physics experts.

And then there is the case of an undisputed genius.

While working on the mathematics of his general theory, Einstein discovered to his surprise that, according to his calculations, the universe wasn’t static but must be expanding or contracting. But all the experts knew the universe was static, and so Einstein, who was no expert in astronomy, bowed to their superior expertise and forced himself to invent a get-out clause, the Cosmological Constant, an ad hoc, arbitrary force by which the universe stayed the same size forever by counteracting gravity. A few years later, when Friedmann in Russia and Hubble in California showed that the universe was expanding, Einstein sighed oy veh and called his Constant the biggest blunder in his life: he had discovered that the universe was increasing in volume and threw this immensely important discovery away in order to, as the saying goes, “save the appearances” rather than have faith in what his equations told him, whatever the experts said.1

And just to show that there is irony within irony, over the last twenty years or so, several cosmologists have re-thought the Cosmological Constant and decided that it, or something very much like it, may well be required after all, and they call it “dark energy,” “vacuum energy,” “lambda,” “quintessence,” and one or two other things that I can’t recall at the moment. I guess it shows that we shouldn’t be too quick to jump. And it also shows that we shouldn’t be too slow to jump. This is the celebrated Goldilocks Principle, finding Baby Bear’s chair, porridge, and bed not too hard, not too soft, not too hot, not too cold, but just right. Easy to talk about, not so easy to put into effect, especially when you don’t know everything, which is always the case, even with experts. For example, a slight problem still remains with vacuum energy, the “dark energy” of so-called empty space. According to the arithmetic, the amount of this energy exceeds the amount that has been actually observed by a factor of 10123—that is to say, 1 followed by 123 noughts, a noticeable discrepancy. (To be fair to the physicists, I’ve come across other, lower estimates, the lowest discrepancy being merely 1056.)

It gets worse. Some physicists have begun challenging long-held shibboleths about the “constants” of nature, like gravity’s strength, light’s velocity, the ratio between the proton’s mass and that of the electron, and the “fine-structure constant,” which governs the interaction of light and electrons. These soi-distant constants vary over time, they proclaim. Other physicists hotly reject this blasphemy, this shattering of physics’ holy-of-holies.

So, what is the point of all this? The point is that a balance must be struck so that nonestablishment science ideas are given a public outing, while nonscientific ideas masquerading as science are not allowed to get away with calling themselves science, or at least not get away with it without a big rumpus. Of course, the problem involves separating the sheep from the goats. Don’t ask me for the magic formula of how you do this. All I know is that some funny scientific ideas are worth thinking about and worth going out looking for evidence for and against and some aren’t. You work it out. I’m just the idea man. All I can say is that it involves balance.

Balancing things, one against the other, is always a good idea; it keeps us from being too credulous or too cock-sure, believing whatever nonsense the experts dish out, just because we don’t understand, or sneering an idea out of our contemptuous consideration, just because we don’t understand.

And so, now I read that someone at the University of Ulm has decided that the universe is shaped like a trumpet— not the modern sort that curls around and has valves but like the old-fashioned kind that blew fanfares and flourishes, and has a straight tube that flares out into negative curvature, like a Pringle potato chip, at one end and, at the other, just tapers down to a point—no mouthpiece, just a point—and beyond the point, nothing. I’m writing this well after breakfast but I’m still not able to believe in six impossible things. And then I think: is this just the wise old skepticism of a wise old man who has heard it all before? Or is it just the arrogance of ignorance? I’m not sure. But I feel vaguely worried. And then I ask a God I don’t believe in to let me learn a whole lot more than I know now, or think I know now. So that I won’t run the risk of being too clever by half, or too stupid by a hundredfold.

Because, when you stop to think about it, this is an utterly incredible, marvelous universe we inhabit. We shouldn’t worship it, but we should, I think, be awestruck by it and learn as much as we can about it, as a sort of tribute to it. And be grateful that we have had the opportunity to become, if only for a little while, acquainted with some small part of it. And what a rare and extraordinary privilege to be part of it. Think (as well as you can) of all the possible beings, all the life-forms, conscious or not, that might have existed since the dawn of time (if time had a dawn) but never got the opportunity to exist because, as bad luck and circumstance dictated, Darwinian natural selection and accident ruled them out, through no fault of their own. Yet, somehow, for reasons we cannot begin to understand, we have existed, we have occupied time and space. And, what’s more, been granted brains to use, if we choose to. Incredible. Wondrous. Miraculous.

And so you wonder why on earth—or anywhere—beings supplied with a brain need gods and their miracles and the whole shebang, the whose paraphernalia of the paranormal and the supernatural and all the rest of that malarkey, in order to feel amazed with the way things are.

You got to laugh, you really got to laugh.

Notes

1. Woody Allen vividly describes his trauma when, as a teenager, he first learned that the universe was expanding. He thought this meant that everything else, including Brooklyn, was expanding, too. His mother had to inform him firmly that Brooklyn was not expanding and he should eat his supper. Like all Jewish mothers, she was right: Brooklyn is not expanding.

I was asked by the Anthropology Club at Long Beach City College to debate a scientist from the Discovery Institute regarding intelligent design. These were my opening remarks.

I want to be up front with all of you today. I have very mixed feelings about being here—about debating someone who still rejects the established fact of our biological evolution. Let me say that again. Evolution—meaning that we are ancient cousins of apes and whales and starfish—is a scientifically settled fact, as much so as the fact that our sun gives off heat. Thus, there’s something surreal about this debate.

So, why am I here? Have I actually deluded myself into thinking that I have some silver bullet arguments to convert the creationists in today’s audience? Hardly, as I discovered from decades of frustrating personal experiences. The only way creationists have been defeated, so far, from introducing their anti-evolution beliefs into public school science classes has been in court cases where their phony science has been exposed.

So, again, why am I here today? Because I believe that science educators have a duty to defend the scientific method from irrational attacks. I also feel a moral obligation toward those in the audience who are still undecided—those whose minds haven’t already been snapped shut by anti-evolution religious dogmas. I feel strongly that the fake science of the creationists must not be imposed on captive students in our public schools. That’s why I agreed to debate today. Even so, there are excellent reasons for science educators to not debate the anti-evolutionists.

First, in science’s search for truth, it’s the rigorous application of the scientific method that counts, not oratory skills. Yet, repeatedly, the overwhelming majority of debates before public audiences are won not by the actual scientific content but by the emotional rapport, public speaking skills, likeability, and believed authority of the debaters. How could it be otherwise, given the audience’s lack of expertise in being able to recognize fake science?

The creationists know this and most are excellent debaters, now with impressive and entertaining PowerPoint presentations. In fact, several Christian fundamentalist colleges are now churning out lawyers and other graduates who are highly skilled in debating and in defending conservative Christian “science.”

A second reason for not debating is that there is no such thing as bad publicity for the creationists. If a scientist debates, it’s “proof” that a scientific controversy actually exists. If he declines, it’s “proof” that evolutionists are running scared.

Let’s not kid ourselves. Regardless of superficial scientific appearances, intelligent design was fabricated by a handful of Christian apologists with the mission of discrediting evolution and of bringing conservative Christian values into public school classrooms. The scientific evidence for evolution is ultimately irrelevant to the faithful, since their “truths” come straight from God.

A third reason for not debating today is that creationists can churn out more scientific misinformation in thirty minutes than I could possibly refute in a week, as I’ve personally discovered. Creationists know that the student audience does not have the necessary expertise in evolutionary biology, historical geology, anthropology, and paleontology to be able to separate out scientifically solid evidence from half-truths, poor logic, outdated references, misleading quotations, selective data, and outright falsehoods.

A fourth reason for not debating creationists is that in debates equal time is given to both sides. Yet, the scientific method is not about equal time but about the rigorous evaluation of all the evidence on all sides. To require science teachers to “teach the controversy,” to give equal time to evolution and ID is, in essence, to require teachers to lie to their students. Unfortunately, this appeal for equal time has been an effective propaganda tool for the creationists for decades. Many powerful politicians continue to support these efforts.

A fifth reason for not debating creationists is that these debates are also publicity stunts to increase the membership of Christian clubs on campuses. Such clubs now number in the tens of thousands. Most are spreading falsehoods regarding evolution, thus creating serious obstacles to the ongoing science education of students. Remember, anti-evolutionists are also trying to convince students to reject large chunks of well-established physics, chemistry, astronomy, anthropology, and geology.

To make matters worse, most of these Christian clubs also hold religious beliefs that can seriously interfere with rational, compassionate, and scientifically informed decisions related to other vitally important areas such as emergency contraceptive pills, the abortion pill, gay rights, death with dignity, and overpopulation.

And then there’s the extremely scary Armageddon theology belief currently held by millions of Americans. After all, why be concerned about destroying our planet’s life-support systems when the destruction of the world is already inevitable as foretold in Scripture?

Today the United States is being confronted with large numbers of scientifically ignorant, politically active Christians who are locked into ultra-religious, anti-scientific views and who want to force these views on others through our elected officials, our courts, and our schools. That’s why I’m here today.

The response to our special issue Science and Religion: Coflict or Conciliation? (July/August 1999) was the largest we ever received to a single issue. It was overwhelmingly positive. Of the more than 140 letters and e-mails we have received (more were still arriving at our time cutoff), only two complained of our devoting so much space to the topic. Most readers expressed appreciation. Many had thoughtful observations or criticisms of articles. We here present selected letters divided into two large categories: those addressing diverse points made throughout the special issue and those that focused specifically on the Non-Overlapping Magisteria concept advocated by Stephen Jay Gould.

The subject “science and religion” becomes even more fascinating when seen through the eyes of a biologist studying social animals.

All animals living in groups view being expelled from the group as a severe punishment; to prevent this they have to obey certain rules. Man is no exception; witness the feelings excited by the word “exile.”

Before the invention of the telescope and the microscope in the seventeenth century man’s mental view of his world was mainly formed by what he could observe with his naked eye and ear. To explain many incomprehensible phenomena in the world around him, man in every culture postulated the existence of gods with supernatural powers.

Some of the rules of a group conflict with an individual’s private wishes. The leaders of the group need strong arguments to keep the group intact; the fear of punishment by the gods (invented by man) in case of rule violation became a very powerful argument.

The advances of the sciences led to conclusions that were in conflict with the teachings of religion. Yet the use of religion to keep the group together continues.

As scientific knowledge of a phenomenon increases and also the technical power to control that phenomenon, the feeling of responsibility towards that phenomenon also grows. In the long run the feeling that we are all co-responsible for what happens in the biosphere will make it possible to keep Earth livable for man. Belief in supernatural gods will then have become obsolete.

Jacob van Noordwijk
Bosch en Duin,
The Netherlands

I just finished reading your excellent July/August issue on science and religion while I was on a trip. Imagine my surprise when I returned from my trip to learn that one of my closest and dearest friends had decided to join one of the most narrow-minded and dogmatic religious sects in the country! This man is a seemingly rational and intelligent man who has a fine family and a position of responsibility with the Federal government. When I spoke with him regarding his decision, he informed me that he felt a need for a network of support, and felt that a church was one of the few places that could provide it. I could only offer my love and support, and assure him that in spite of my total disdain for the attitudes and practices of fundamentalism, I would continue to be his friend and be supportive of him and his family.

This incident points out one of the strongest draws that the irrationality of fundamentalism exerts on the weak. Many people, for numerous reasons, have a strong emotional need for a support network. In our rather self-centered society, there are few places where one can go to have those kinds of emotional needs met. Churches, especially those of a more fundamentalist mindset, tend to offer a strong network of support to newcomers. This is due in great part to the “us against them” feeling they possess regarding those outside their particular belief system. Nothing unites people like a common enemy, and if you feel the Devil is hiding behind every bush, it tends to lend a feeling of mutual closeness and support, much like walking through a field of hungry lions with a group of hunters.

I can certainly understand my friend’s desire to be part of a close and supportive “family.” As a teenager, I too felt a strong emotional need for a sense of family, and I also joined a fundamentalist church. Over the years I grew to realize that I was paying a very high price for my sense of belonging. I was forced to deny the obvious fact of biological evolution, regard Earth as quite young (in spite of tremendous evidence to the contrary), and I was forced to be terribly bigoted and intolerant of anyone who did not share my group’s narrow beliefs. I grieve over the wonderful friends I never made because of the prohibition to associate with “infidels and unbelievers.” I am very glad that I did violate the group’s rule of not reading anything that disagreed with their views. Even when I was in the strongest grip of fundamentalism, I could not fathom a god so insecure that reading scientific facts would cause him to vanish.

I have grown to respect new views and new heroes. Stephen Jay Gould, James Randi and the late Isaac Asimov are among the people of this planet for whom I have the utmost respect. Each of these men (and too many others to mention) have approached the issues of science and religion with various aspects of humor, wit, compassion, and, most of all, honesty. Although I do not totally discount the possible existence of a god, I now know that he will prove to be a god who does not rely on fear, gullibility, or magic to lure followers. He will rather be a god who respects and honors those who seek honest and rational answers to the mysteries that surround us. It is my sincere hope that a time will soon come when humanity can develop enough care and compassion for one another to provide those with emotional needs for a sense of family to find it without having to resort to selling their intellect in the bargain.

Please keep up the wonderful work of striving for truth and enlightenment. Misguided religious beliefs have caused more pain, suffering and death than all the wars man has ever fought. Only when we can make it possible for each child in this country to have access to scientific truths can we truly regard ourselves as a civilized country.

Jim L. Brasfield
Collierville, Tenn.

In the July/August special issue on science and religion, several authors stated that Andrew D. White’s 1896 classic A History of the Warfare of Science with Theology in Christendom chronicled the conflict between science and religion. In fact, however, White’s introduction makes clear that he saw the conflict as “a struggle between Science and Dogmatic Theology” rather than between science and religion. White was convinced that “Science, though it has evidently conquered Dogmatic Theology based on biblical texts and ancient modes of thought, will go hand in hand with Religion; and that, although theological control will continue to diminish, Religion, as seen in the recognition of 'a Power in the universe, not ourselves, which makes for righteousness,' and in the love of God and of our neighbor, will steadily grow stronger and stronger. . . .” White’s distinction between religion and theology might still be useful for those who think science should accommodate religion in general, but not the doctrines of particular religions.

C. Leon Harris
Department of Biological Sciences
State University of New York
Plattsburgh, N.Y.

The Science and Religion issue was very interesting. When authors point out that science is reason-based and religion is faith-based it is, of course, correct. But that is not sufficient.

Religion is very robust. It needs nothing but its followers. It can survive and sometimes thrive in the face of moderate government hostility. Science, on the other hand, is dependent. Without the support of industry, government, and academia, it would shrivel to the size of humanism or atheism. You need to understand that science is like a dairy cow. If it does not produce it will end up as hamburger.

Truth is not relevant to religion. Science uses reason and experiments to find truth. Palevitz writes “Creationists will always see inconsistencies or unexplained phenomena in evolutionary biology that make supernatural intervention an unavoidable conclusion.” That is the same as saying truth is not relevant. Not only that, creationism is a good example of the “Big Lie.” Religion seeks wealth, power, and control, and has acquired a great deal. If science does not it will remain dependent.

Palevitz writes about creationists, “We should force them to play by science’s rules.” We do not have the power to force them to do anything. Does he think creationists care about evidence or truth? Fundamentalist Christians are close to gaining control of the legislative arm of the federal government. Not long after that evolution will be banned from public schools and replaced by creationism. So it is not surprising that many of his students have chosen creationism. They probably want to be on the winning side.

Don Latimer
Lancaster, Calif.

I found the issue on science and religion quite fascinating, but I was a little surprised by the lack of treatment of the relation of science and religion as set down by Sir James G. Frazer in The Golden Bough.

According to Frazer, man sought to control his environment, and resorted to magic: by performing certain rituals, something could be caused to happen. One could make it rain, cure an illness, cause the livestock to be fertile, cause his children to be fertile, etc., by the performance of the appropriate ritual.

Later, the magic was not working well to control the environment, and man created god: man could not cause things to happen, but man could ask god, and god could cause things to happen. The ways of the world being as they are, of course the magic did not disappear, but evolved into religion. What previously caused something to happen now convinced god to do the same thing. Also, as one would expect, some plain old magic persisted-strongly in some cultures, and vestigially in other cultures.

I do not believe Frazer carries us to the next level, but it seems an ineluctability that science was the next effort to control the environment. With this in mind, it seems that there must be a conflict between science and religion. While, in the past, religion and magic could be intertwined and neither is much the worse for it, science cannot be so mixed. Some authors in the Skeptical Inquirer pointed out that fact, and the confusion that results. But the worst part of all is that science is successful-beyond reasonable doubt.

Thus, we have a tradition that is probably as old as mankind, and that tradition has evolved slowly, rarely throwing things out but always changing and reinterpreting. Now we have science that is not in the old mold, and refuses to conform to the old mold, preferring to replace everything that does not work (and we know how much does not work).

I believe what is left is to create a religion that can treat the “spiritual” side of people without getting into the physical side of life. Only then can we avoid the natural conflict. I offer no suggestions as to how this may be achieved.

Jim Middleton
Decatur, Ga.

I would like to compliment you on an excellent and highly relevant treatment of the relationship between science and religion. I note with disappointment, however, that many of your contributors persist in using the inappropriate term “supernatural” to describe those things which they perceive as being outside the boundaries of science. I would argue that there is, in fact, no such thing as the supernatural, except in our imaginations.

There are two, and only two, possibilities for existence: things can be conceptual or imaginary, existing only in our minds, or they can exist in the real, physical world. If such things as gods, angels, ghosts, or demons are anything but imaginary, then they must be considered as natural, existing in the natural world, amenable (at least in principle) to scientific inquiry, and subject to the same inviolable natural laws as all other things. Any appearance by such entities (assuming that they did, in fact, have a physical existence) of transcending these laws would be simply that-appearance. Like the alpha particles passing, ghostlike, though Rutherford’s gold foil, a ghost which passed through a solid wall or a god which could transform matter with the wave of a hand would not be exhibiting “supernatural” powers in violation of natural laws, but would rather be indicating to us that there are aspects of natural law which we simply have not yet discovered.

Scott F. Stoeffler
Downers Grove, Ill.

Congratulations on your special issue on science and religion. You covered all viewpoints well. About the only thing missing was an article by a Pentecostal minister.

I am a scientist and a religious person, and I never considered there was a conflict between science and religion. To me, the role of science is to observe, discover and comprehend the countless wonders of God’s creation. I believe God intended for us to do this; else, why would he have endowed man with an intellect that far surpasses that of any other animal?

I also believe that God intends us to use this knowledge to His glory and the betterment of mankind. Here, I conflict with some religions, such as Christian Science. I am unhappy about that, as I consider any religion that inspires an individual to love God and love his neighbor as himself is a worthy religion.

Our exploration may have its limits. How all that mass and energy came to be in the same place at the same time to create the Big Bang, what our universe was like before the Big Bang, and if there are other universes may be beyond our reach. The famous cosmologist Stephen Hawking was invited by the Pope to explain the Big Bang and black holes to him. After he was finished, the Pope announced: “from the Big Bang to black holes is your territory. Outside of that is my territory!”

W.E. Railing
Green Valley, Ariz.

I enjoyed the July/August issue on Science and Religion.

How embarrassing for American science and education that five generations after The Origin of Species was published, most Americans doubt evolution! One reason is that creationism, like religion in general, is never subjected to criticism in forums that reach its adherents. So the absurdities of creationism go unquestioned, and people continue to believe. In two debates I attended in my home city, the creationist attacked evolution but hardly explained or even stated his own beliefs about the origin of species. Fortunately in one debate his opponent brought and read from some of the creationist’s publications, and only in that way did we discover that he believed in the story of Noah’s Ark and thought that dinosaurs and humans coexisted (Fred Flintstone science). By the way, those debates lasted three hours each, almost as many people were in the seats at the end as at the beginning, and, in this city, the debates outdrew the Harlem Globetrotters and those dancing horses from Vienna. People do care; the question is important.

Keeping discussions of creationism out of the schools and ignoring the obvious conflicts between evolution and the religion that most Americans accept can only perpetuate ignorance. It is much better to discuss creationism in classrooms, but subject it to the same kind of criticism that evolution gets from creationists. The whole controversy could be settled in a generation or two, but only if we talk about it in forums that reach tens of millions, i.e., the schools and television.

Imagine a foundation-funded debate in the form of a series of, say, ten one-hour television programs, with half the programming prepared by creationists, half by science educators. . . .

Done right, and with luck, such a series might compare in interest with Carl Sagan’s Cosmos. It could give millions of people the knowledge they need to deal effectively with the creation/evolution controversy.

Jim Segesta
Bakersfield, Calif.

Several of the articles in the special Science and Religion issue use the word “natural” to describe science but use it in two distinct ways that are not clearly distinguished. It is said that science gives us natural explanations for our observations of the natural world. The meaning of the latter seems clear: The natural world is the one that we experience through our senses, one that is external to the private thoughts within our minds.

What, however, is a natural explanation? It seems to be one expressed in terms of certain predetermined concepts. Eugenie Scott ("The 'Science and Religion Movement'”), for example, says that it is “materialistic: matter, energy, and their interactions are used.” This is wrongheaded. Does science really limit itself a priori to using certain ideas? Is it so encumbered by bias that it would reject any explanation that uses other notions, no matter how well that explanation accounts for our observations?

The answer to these questions is no. Science is open-minded, not committed forever to its current concepts, always accepting of whatever ideas yield greater understanding. It seeks the best of all possible explanations, where “best” is characterized by parsimony, falsifiability, fruitfulness, and the like. Using such criteria, evolution, for example, easily triumphs over its rivals.

John G. Fletcher
Livermore, Calif.

Your excellent special issue on science and religion brought to my mind words Episcopal journalist Bruce Bawer wrote in his book Stealing Jesus (p. 324):

. . . every religious statement is a metaphor, a stab in the dark, an attempt to express in human words something that lies beyond human understanding or expression. To choose a religion is to choose a set of metaphors that comport best with the promptings of one’s own instincts and conscience and that seems to point most truly, virtuously, and beautifully to the “depth of reason.”

Bob Slaughter
Omaha, Neb.

Your special issue on science and religion lacks a major ingredient not easily named. Consider figure two in the article on scientific method by Zoran Pazameta (p. 38). It shows a block for observations and experiments, from which we go directly to theory. Some may assume a simple examination of the data is all that’s needed. A step or block is missing, namely the analysis, assessment, and interpretation of the data. Interpretation requires a thorough understanding of what has gone before, i.e., previous research and existing theory. It further requires careful logical thinking, including a need not to be misled by wishes, expectations, prejudices, or by the accepted wisdom. And, most of all, the analysis is likely to require lots and lots of mathematics, including calculus and statistics. Most people lack any or all of these prerequisites.

The average person lacks the prerequisite knowledge or tools to understand the evidence for scientific assertions. Victor Stenger assures us the universe started with a big bang and is about a dozen billions years old (p. 42). Very few have the mathematics background to check that conclusion. To understand the evidence for biological evolution is simpler, but still requires a determined effort to master facts and references. In my perception most people have only a vague idea why a car engine works, or what the principles of radio wave propagation are.

In consequence scientific arguments for most people are as much a matter of faith as are religious statements. That cars run, planes fly, television works, and refrigerators cool, of course strengthens our trust in science immensely. Most people do not have a clear understanding of the distinction between science and technology. Even some technically trained people have only a vague idea of scientific principles outside their specialty. It is not astonishing that Barry Palevitz finds many teachers have no clear understanding of the basis of the science they teach (p. 35). Most Americans don't have the mental tools to get from the technical wonders of our economy to an appreciation of abstract theories such as the Big Bang, evolution, or any of the more remote assertions of science. For the average person these are as much a matter of faith as are the Bible and prayer. And religion surely is more comforting and easier to comprehend than science.

Most people don't have the will or the education or the ability to sort religion from science or science from nonsense. The community of agnostics who rely on a scientific world view is only a few percent of the population. I would conclude we shall remain a small minority.

Wolf Roder
Cincinnati, Ohio

Steve Allen’s idea of two mind-sets, one for religion and one for science, (in the July/August issue) is a good one. That idea can help to explain even more about our minds if we broaden it to a subjective frame of mind and an objective one.

Consider, for example, the words of actor and drug addict Robert Downey, Jr. about his recent arrest: “It’s like I've got a shotgun in my mouth, my finger on the trigger and I like the taste of gun metal.” He’s explaining that his subjective mind-set makes him want the experience of taking drugs, while his objective mind-set gives him information that doing so may kill him.

Likewise, the subjective frame of mind suggests that experiencing belief in powerful nonhuman agents can give our lives meaning when we need it. It used to be that the only such agents-that people believed existed-were the supernatural ones suggested by religion. These days, there is also belief that such agents live nearby in UFOs. (Allen suggests there is a connection between such aliens from elsewhere and religion. Certainly, one connection is the subjective mind-set central to both.)

We also have the objective mind-set that provides the basis for gaining useful information about a world in which there is presently no evidence of powerful agents other than humans. That mind-set long ago helped us to find food, water, and shelter. It led to the relatively recent development of science.

How did we come to have such different mind-sets? There’s reason to think our ancestors had them before we were human and before we were apes. That is a large subject. It’s also one that I explore in How We Got To Be Human: Subjective Minds and Objective Bodies, which will be published next year by Prometheus Books.

William H. Libaw
Beverly Hills, Calif.

II. Non-Overlapping Magisteria . . . or Not?

The Stephen J. Gould concordat with the Vatican must not be allowed to settle the boundary between science and religion in your pages. His “NOMA” leaves the boundary where the Darwinian compromise with the bishops set it, more than a century ago. In that time the work of science has occupied the entire territory. It is no longer possible for scientists to yield-shirk-responsibility for ends and values while they busy themselves with means.

The act of Cain should have settled the question at the outset. The nuclear weapon has now irrevocably closed the false dichotomy that distinguishes means from ends and allows the employment of means to accomplish ends thus falsely distinguished and held to be desirable or “good.”

From times earlier than Cain, the emerging human species has looked outward for the purpose and value of its existence, into the farthest imagined regions of the universe and beyond. The last half-century of discovery in human evolution has shown that the natural locus of purpose and value is inside the human head. In this corner of the universe, it has established purpose, first formed in the heads of the primate toolmakers-they shaped those tools for later use-from whom the genus Homo stemmed 1.5-2 million years BP.

Objective knowledge, verified by its use in technology for myriad purposes, has changed not only humankind’s relation to nature, but the relation of human to human. Values have been seen thus to change with the advance of objective knowledge. Mechanical energy made slavery not alone technologically obsolete, but immoral as well. Now, it is the consumption not the production of goods that underlies the worry about jobs in the economy. Redistribution of income proceeds even in our country and in its re-embrace in fundamentalist Puritan ethic.

In place of the concordat and the compromise, let the following statement of the ethic of objective knowledge, by Jacques Monod, stand:

The sole end, the sovereign good, the supreme value in the ethic of knowledge- let us acknowledge it-is not the happiness of man, much less his comfort and security . . . it is objective knowledge itself. I believe it is necessary to state clearly and to systematize this ethic and . . . to teach and spread it abroad; for, creator of the modern world, this is the only ethic consistent with life in this world.

This, it must not be concealed, is a harsh and constraining ethic; while it looks to man to advance knowledge, it declares a value superior to man himself.

It is an ethic of conquest, a will to power, but to power solely in the sphere of knowledge. It is, in consequence, an ethic that teaches the evil of violence and of temporal domination.

It is an ethic of personal and political liberty, because to contest, to criticize, to constantly put in question is not only a right therein but a duty.

It is a social ethic, because objective knowledge can not be cherished except in a society that respects its norms.

It should be of concern to scientists, to begin with, that our society does not now respect those norms.

Gerard Piel
New York, N.Y.

I have a tremendous respect for Stephen J. Gould, and really appreciate the contribution he has made to the dissemination of clear thinking about evolution and biology to the lay public. However, I strongly disagree with his stand on the limits of science because this stance abrogates our responsibility for the future and puts it in the hands of those least able to determine the consequences of their actions. The future and how to influence it is what all of human activity is about. The past is what we can study to determine what actions to take in the fleeting present to bring about a future, near and far, in which we want to live. Our behavior today, the rules that guide that behavior, and reasons those rules were adopted rather than some others are as much a subject for scientific inquiry as are the rules of planetary motion. We do not want to abandon our responsibility to shape our future to those illiterate about the workings of reality. There is only one magisteria and it is a reality that is independent of our existence. Only by using science can we understand reality and use this understanding to set policy to produce a future in which we want to live.

Chuck Lemme
Tucson, Ariz.

I very much appreciated the July/August 1999 presentation of science versus religion.

I am a big fan of Stephen Jay Gould but I've always felt his “soft” approach to religion makes me wish he would concentrate more than ever on biology. I'm glad that Richard Dawkins was given space to present what I very strongly feel is what Gould has “swept under the rug.”

Religions will come and go but science will be with us from now on. I predict that one million years from now if we have not exterminated ourselves that no one will be waiting for the second coming of Christ and that science will be running strong!

I also greatly appreciated the space given to Victor J. Stenger.

Lance May
North Folk, Idaho

Apologists for religion often appear to derive comfort from the statement that science cannot prove the nonexistence of God. This is also the position of S. J. Gould (quoted by Martin Gardner), who describes any attempt at such proof as an arrogant mistake. We are, apparently, supposed to infer that equal weights are to be assigned to the alternatives of God’s existence versus his nonexistence, and that a believer is no less reasonable than a skeptic. It is amusing to apply this line of argument to defend belief in witches. Can a scientist, in his laboratory, perform an experiment demonstrating that there are no witches? No. Can he deduce that conclusion from quantum mechanics, relativity, or the theory of evolution? No. Must we acknowledge, therefore, that belief in witches is intellectually respectable? Again, no. Advocates of the science-cannot-disprove gambit seem to be unaware that they are opening the door to unwelcome guests. Witches are only one example; don't forget the tooth fairy.

Clergymen and theologians maintain that their moral precepts are derived from God. Professor Gould endorses their authority ("magisterium”), but does not, apparently, believe that it is of supernatural origin. What, then, is its source? The Catholic condemnation of contraception is a moral judgment rather than a scientific one; therefore, according to Gould, it falls within the scope of the Church’s teaching authority. But he has not explained why we should accept it.

David A. Shotwell
Alpine, Tex.

Being among the legion of Stephen Jay Gould fans, I was quite excited to read his contribution to the science/religion debate in your recent issue. His piece, however, had a curious ring of the familiar. Was it just by accident that Professor Gould chose a title with a decidedly, shall we say, romanistic afflatus? In fact, his arguments brought to mind those of another clear-minded analytic, synthetic, and sympathetic thinker: Thomas Aquinas.

The thirteenth century, though pre-scientific and Aristotelian, was not free of serious debate over the question of, as it was then phrased, revelation versus reason. Into this great philosophical battle stepped Aquinas, who carefully distinguished between the dual modes of thought by proposing a kind of intellectual fusion, in which reason and revelation, though distinct, are not opposed to each other. Of course, there was to be only one “truth,” that of revelation, but, as far as the natural world, rationalism, or at least the rational, could apply.

This apparent contradiction is overcome by Aquinas’s bedrock assertion that “de motu creaturae rationalis in Deum” (the rational creature advances toward God). In order to establish the true relation between faith and reason, Aquinas systematized theology. Today we might find some of his conclusions strained, but he attempted to forge a methodology based on process (advancement). His method and his relative openmindedness are noteworthy. Revelation may be the higher truth for Aquinas, but his spirit of accommodation does not seem all that far removed from that offered by Professor Gould. Dare it be suggested that the uniquely human quest for God and the uniquely human quest of science are in some sense the same? The two inexhaustibly parallel in endless revealment?

Steven Dowd
Heathrow, Fla.

In regard to the article “Non-Overlapping Magisteria” by Stephen Jay Gould, I'd like to submit this opinion: The October 1996 statement on evolution by Pope John Paul II is nothing more than another of those rare conciliatory expressions used for the sole purpose of forestalling the erosion of religion, namely Christianity, by indelible scientific revelations.

Phyllis Bugg
Clinton, Ky.

Gould says: “No supposed 'conflict' between science and religion should exist because each subject has a legitimate magisterium, or domain of teaching authority-and these magisteria do not overlap (nor do they encompass all inquiry). But the two magisteria bump right up against each other. . . .” Gould also says: “the Magisterium” merely stands for the “teaching authority of the [Roman Catholic] Church-a word derived not from any concept of majesty or unquestionable awe, but from the different notion of teaching, for magister means 'teacher' in Latin.”

Come again?

My Webster’s Dictionary defines “magisterium” as “the authority, office, and power to teach true doctrine by divine guidance, held by the Roman Catholic Church to have been given it alone by divine commission.” Thus, the magisterium is no ordinary teaching authority such as we would find coming down from, say, a state’s educational agency that governs its public schools. There is all the difference in the world when such religious terms are used such as “divine guidance,” “divine commission,” and “alone.”

You don't have to take Webster’s word for this definition. Just turn to the Catholic Almanac’s section about its magisterium. The Second Vatican Council’s Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (No. 25), says in part: “Religious submission of will and of mind must be shown in a special way to the authentic teaching of the Roman Pontiff, even when he is not speaking ex cathedra. It must be shown in such a way that his supreme magisterium is acknowledged with reverence, the judgments made by him are sincerely adhered to. . . .”

Bishops are also afforded the same magisterium because “they are authentic teachers . . . endowed with the authority of Christ, who preach to the people committed to them the faith they must believe and put into practice. . . .”

Because Gould admitted that he didn't understand the Church’s statement on evolution, he put into play what he calls “the primary rule of intellectual life: When puzzled, it never hurts to read the primary documents-a rather simple and self-evident principle that has, nonetheless, completely disappeared from large sectors of the American experience.” I submit that Gould failed to put this important principle to work in his anemic definition of “magisterium.”

Bernard Katz
Palmyra, N.J.

Stephen J. Gould makes the somewhat remarkable comment that science cannot touch the subject of souls and that such an issue is intrinsically religious. Consequently he has no problem with the position of the Roman Catholic Church that permits believers to accept the basic truth of the evolution of man while forbidding them from extending that process to the human soul (which is understood to have been infused into the human creature at some point in its evolutionary development).

Aside from the fact that such imposed restrictions are completely contrary to the spirit of science which demands free, open and courageous inquiry (and thus call into question the sincerity and integrity of the Pope’s message), Gould’s comment leaves me wondering what it is he thinks the ongoing research by various brain sciences into the nature of consciousness is all about. Are not these scientists, when they speak of the mind, consciousness and of our sense of self-

identity and self-awareness, not speaking of that very same phenomenon that mystics, poets, philosophers and religionists have typically called the soul? And if by the concept of the soul the Pope and the mainstream religions do not mean our minds, personalities, and our sense of “I,” then what do they understand souls to be? Certainly those who are working (and to some extent already succeeding) to provide a scientific and naturalistic explanation for human consciousness are obviating any need to regard souls as the product of supernatural intervention.

Bruce Wildish
wildish@interlog.com

I feel certain that you are getting a deluge of letters concerning the Science and Religion issue, but I thought I would add mine to the pile. While all of the articles were enjoyable and informative, the two that I most agreed with were the two that were supposedly in mutual opposition to each other, namely the Gould and Dawkins articles.

I think Gould is quite right in delineating areas of inquiry that are probably outside the scope of science for the time being and perhaps forever. These include such questions as the optimal system of ethics, the meaning of life, the nature of mind, etc., questions which most people would deem philosophical rather than scientific. Attention to these questions is important and may have more influence on the fate of humanity than scientific advances. However, in addition to having a different magisteria, traditional religions have also had a different attitude toward inquiry which Dawkins is right to deplore. This attitude is one of absolute prohibition towards criticism and change, the result being a continued belief in stories that are both cruel and ridiculous, simply because they are part of a set of “sacred” writings. I agree with Dawkins that to ignore this basic intolerance toward change is both intellectually dishonest and socially inadvisable. . . .

Cecil Wyche
Greenville, S.C.

I thoroughly enjoyed your issue on science versus religion, however I was somewhat alarmed at how readily everyone except Richard Dawkins ceded to religion matters of morality. As Stephen Jay Gould points out there are other “magisteria” besides religion and science (he mentions art as an example). No mention was made of law or philosophy, either of which is preferable to religion as a source of moral teaching.

Professor Gould gets warm and fuzzy when John Paul II declares evolution a scientific fact in contrast to Pius XII’s grudging admission that it might be valid and we can live with it if we have to. Welcome to the nineteenth century! Even if the Pope were trained in science and had arrived at his conclusion from his own research, no skeptic could accept his declaration as anything more than one scientist’s opinion based on the available data.

Ernest L. Asten
San Francisco, Calif.

Several articles in the Skeptical Inquirer have discussed a view currently popular in our universities, claiming that every value judgment or assertion that one statement is more objective or true than another (such as that science provides our most reliable account of the universe) is merely a subjective expression of personal bias.¹ This view is usually attributed to deconstructionism, postmodernism, feminism, or some other recent movement. It is older than these.

I taught literature in universities for many years. I retired before postmodernism and its ilk became fashionable. From the beginning of my career, I heard views like those above, usually from students trying to persuade me to raise their grade on a test or critical essay. Typically they argued the view right after I said that their evidence did not support their conclusions. If I questioned the validity of their reasoning, they usually responded, “It’s valid for me.”

Many of them were merely trying to justify sloppy work. (Paradoxically, they justified it by denying the need for justification.) But sometimes I heard similar arguments from students whose sincerity I respected. One year I taught a small graduate seminar on Contemporary American Fiction. Each week we read a novel by a different modern author (Pynchon, Barthelme, Hawkes, Vonnegut, et al.) and one student would prime the class discussion by surveying the published criticism of the work and presenting a few questions for the class to talk about.

The discussions were fresh and fascinating because the works had not been exhaustively analyzed in print and the students were hard working, intelligent, and dedicated. But sometimes the students bogged down in an impasse they couldn't resolve. Some would still be trying to uncover the central core of the work, but others would argue that this effort was pointless because, they said, every reader experiences a work differently.

I thought about this impasse but couldn't find a way past it. Finally, in the hope that even stating the problem might help, I defined for the class what seemed to me to be the two opposing points of view. I admitted that I favored one of these, so I expected objections. To my surprise, there were none. More to my surprise (since I wasn't trying to be persuasive), I had the impression that I had won the class over to my view. Still more to my surprise, the impasses seldom occurred during the rest of the term. When similar problems occurred in other courses, I told those students about my experience in the seminar, and again, the explanation usually seemed to reduce the conflict.

I now believe that I had unwittingly defined an Hegelian synthesis of their views that both groups could live with.

We all agreed that a basic difference between the two positions was that one group believed that there are many realities, whereas the other group believed that there is only one. I called these groups “pluralists” and “monists” and described the pluralists’ position like this: “The only reality we know is what we experience. Since your experience differs from mine, your reality is different from mine. Hence there are as many realities as there are people. Those multiple realities are the only reality there is.” I think the pluralists agreed with this description. At least, they nodded. (Maybe they were just sleepy.)

The disparity appeared in our respective notions of what the monists believed. Apparently the pluralists assumed that monists-by definition, people who believe in only one reality-must also believe that they (and only they) know exactly what reality is. To the pluralists, monism sounded like bigotry.

But the monism I described, which I and the other students seemed to share, was this: There is only one reality. We don't know it completely or perfectly. We can't know it completely because it’s too big. Our spacecraft can never investigate every planet. We can't know it perfectly because our instruments aren't good enough. Besides, according to relativity and modern quantum physics (which most of us currently consider the most reliable descriptions), the universe is so weird that our minds cannot possibly form a clear image of it.

We can't even see our immediate environment directly. Instead, we construct a mental image of it and “see” that. Although there’s an image painted on our retina by light rays, we're not like cameras. We ourselves don't see an image until our optic nerves have sent their individual little bits of data up to and through a series of centers in our brain that combine and interpret these bits with the aid of knowledge stored in our memories. Our feelings help us to construct the image, but also distort it. Our emotions and cultures make some things beautiful and important, other things ugly and trivial. We continually make mistakes.

But the very fact that we know that we make mistakes and can detect and often correct them shows that there’s a reference reality out there, a “real” reality, and that we can improve our image of it. We can learn by experience and history and knowledge we get from others. None of us is always right, but some people are right more often than others (at least within their “fields”), and the rest of us would be wise to consult these people and respect and weigh their advice. We can test our knowledge with double-blind experiments and peer review. We have assembled a large and generally (though not perfectly) reliable body of information. If it is contaminated with bias, we can reduce the contamination.

I didn't say all this in the literature seminar. I didn't even explicitly connect these philosophical abstractions to the study of literature. It didn't seem necessary. Probably the students saw for themselves that one purpose of their literary analysis was to improve their image of the author’s image of reality. Anyway, it was clear that the central idea of our monism was that objectivity, truth, and reality exist, even though we can't master or define or know them perfectly.

I believe that the pluralists in the seminar decided that their position was not so different from ours after all. What they called personal realities, we called mental images. What they experienced as different realities, we experienced as limitations in our images, streaks on our windows. All (!) we were adding was that out there beyond the windows exists the real thing. We'll never see it directly or wholly, just as we'll never see Mt. Rainier or Mt. Fuji from all sides at once. But we can get closer and closer.

References

Skeptical Inquirer articles:

1. Is science concerned with truth? Estling 22(4);
2. Science, scientism, and anti-science in the age of preposterism, Haack 21(6);
3. Antiscience in academia, Gross and Levitt 19(2);
4. The antiscience threat, Kurtz and Holton 18(3);
5. Science: The feminists’ scapegoat? Walker 18(1)

Thank you for your letter of the 11th. Yes, the fact that things exist is a bit of a problem. Still, your argument that existence is an enigma, inexplicable, is no reason to believe it’s all a miracle. Since humans first evolved, they have found countless enigmas and inexplicable things that, over the centuries, have been explained, and always without the need for miracles. Miracles have certainly been invoked, but they were never really necessary. Why things exist, why there is something, a universe for example, rather than nothing, is a question that has been asked for many thousands of years. The philosopher Leibniz asked it and then gave an answer, but it slips my mind now what it was, though it had something to do with God. Enigmas and inexplicable questions still exist, but given time, research, and intelligent surmise, there’s no reason to insist they never can be answered in a rational way. We've no cause to assume that, just because something is unanswerable right now, it will be eternally unanswerable. The history of the human race indicates very much the opposite. There is no need (except in ourselves perhaps) to fall back on the miraculous. This is what the history of human thought teaches us.

You have a funny idea of what hubris is. You claim that our minds create all that exists, we create reality by thinking, and when I deny this and say reality is already out there and doesn't need you or me or anyone to make it real, you say I show hubris. You're right, it’s not possible to prove that the universe is not merely a figment of my imagination, or yours, or somebody else’s. At least not while that person is alive. But if that person then dies, and the universe continues to exist, then I think we have a pretty good answer. So I'll make this contract with you: If the universe is my personal creation and I die before you and, as a result, the universe blinks out of existence and is never seen or heard of again, you've won. On the other hand, if you say the universe is a figment of your imagination and you die first and reality just goes on as if nothing has happened, then I win the bet.

Solipsism, like most forms of schizophrenia, can never be argued away; any resourceful schizophrenic can always maintain he can't be proven wrong. As a matter of fact, he can, quite easily. All you need do is beat the hell out of him and then ask why, if the world is his creation, he created it in such a way that he allows himself to have the hell beaten out of him. Or why does he have a toothache? Or piles? Or have all kinds of unpleasant things happen to him, such as getting locked up in an asylum? Of course, if your solipsist is also a masochist, you have a problem.

So I guess the best solution is to believe (until you have some good reason not to) that there is a physical universe out there, outside of our thoughts about it. Look at it this way: If the universe is your thought, your idea, your creation, then why have you created such a disagreeable fellow as I to argue with you and upset you so? Seems pretty illogical, if you ask me. So, yes, I have thought over the possibility that the universe is merely somebody’s idea, and I've come to the conclusion that the notion doesn't make much sense, even within its own frame of logic. Something which, even by its own internal rules of consistency, doesn't add up, is not to be given much credence, or much of our time. Our time is limited, and growing more limited by the hour. It’s not to be wasted. Once it’s finished, there won't be any more.

No, since you ask, I don't think that when all the data are in, we'll find that matter and spirit are the same thing. I'm reasonably sure that mind and matter are the same thing, that what we call mind is a manifestation of the functioning of the brain. But I'm reasonably sure that “All” is not “Mind.” All is space, time, matter, and energy. True, without mind, nothing can be discerned. But that doesn't mean that nothing is there. It’s like the old riddle: If a tree falls and there is no one around to hear it, does it make a sound? The answer is quite obvious: No, there’s no sound, as sound is a product of waves of air hitting a tympanic membrane and then being transported to a brain. But there are sound waves. These are intrinsic and have nothing to do with our minds, so far as their existence goes. Existence exists; it doesn't need us as a crutch.

Hubris? Well, I'm quite sure that when I die, the universe will continue to go its merry way, just as if nothing had happened. After all, it’s been going its merry way for fifteen billion years or so before I was born. Of course, I could argue, as Bertrand Russell did, that the universe came into existence five minutes ago, courtesy of my mind, complete with my dirty socks in the laundry hamper, and then challenge you, and everybody else, to prove me wrong. But, on reflection, I think I'll leave things as they are and just go on pretending that there really is reality out there that I can, if I want to, discern, and let it go at that.

Yes, there’s no getting around the fact that I prefer reason (or what I take to be reason) to what I take to be nonsense. Still, I have to insist once again that no one can disprove a negative (you accuse me of not having “an iota of proof in the opposite direction”). Rational argument requires that the proposer of an idea produce evidence for the idea, not that the rest of the world produce evidence against it; although, of course, if others do happen to have evidence against it, that certainly helps hit it on the head. But this so-called negative evidence isn't required. I cannot prove that there aren't eleven purple and green leprechauns, totally invisible, totally inaudible, totally beyond any sensual experience, even that which is enhanced by machines, right here in my study, cavorting around completely beyond my range of perception. But reason leads me to believe that there aren't, and that the idea there might be, until proven otherwise, is extravagant, unnecessary, and not required.

And this is the best way I know of for separating sanity from insanity. Always assuming we want to.

Yours,

Ralph

There are at least three reasons:

1. The leaders of mass media organizations are not educated enough to recognize and expose pseudoscientific “theories.” They don’t ask advice of real scientists, probably in order to conceal their naivete; and scientists themselves are, as a rule, not sufficiently active in the struggle against antiscience.
2. Real scientists understand the limitations of general knowledge. They sincerely acknowledge that many puzzles of nature are not yet understood. Parascientists, on the contrary, are confident in their “achievements”; they pretend to be more certain.
3. In the 1930s and 1940s some attempts were made in the former Soviet Union to end investigations in such important fields as genetics and cybernetics. After such oppression was disclosed and lifted, biologists and physicists — along with pseudobiologists and pseudophysicists — felt freedom. The latter demanded respect for their “new ideas’ and they portrayed themselves as fighters for truth.

When real scientists are active, they can expose pseudoscience. A well-known scandal happened in 1991, when physicists of the USSR Academy of Sciences demanded that government cease to support charlatans working on “microlepton fields’ (distant biological influence of army and civil inhabitants with “torsion radiation”). About $500 million had been spent on such “investigations.” Fortunately, the Supreme Soviet Committee stopped this waste of money. The Academic Department of General Physics and Astronomy at a special session on July 9, 1991, characterized this case as “organized activity of pseudoscience with specific features of large-scale bluff.”

In the 1990s the government of the Ukraine allocated much money to a man named Bovbalan for realization of his ideas to move clouds and cyclones, to cause rains in drought areas, and so on. This episode became known to the public only a year ago.

Even in the circles close to the president of the Russian Federation there are “believers’ in miracles. The newspaper Moscow News (weekly, Nos. 29 and 30, 1995) published a story about General George Rogozin, who is the deputy chief of the Presidential Security Service. His hobby is studying occultism, telepathy, astrology, etc. As the newspaper stated, Rogozin prepares the astrological “forecasts’ for the leaders of the country.

We should not be astonished when in a Russian television program astrology was characterized as an “applied science”; and when we regularly watch on television such “specialists’ on astrology as former doctor of sciences in chemistry V. Velichko or former physicist Tamara Globa.

I am a member of the International Academy of Information, which has headquarters in Moscow. There are many divisions organized by scientific specialization or by regions of activity (as our Irkutsk Division, for instance). The leadership and divisions of the academy have taken much positive action. But recently I was shocked to learn that one more division was named: the “Division of UFOlogy and Bioenergoinformatics”! Isn’t that a shame for the scientific community? We are trying to overrule this disgraceful decision, but it is difficult to find the source of such a mistake.

One more shameful situation happened in the Russian Parliament. Members invited a “soothsayer”—Raisa Soumerina—to talk to them. She tried to determine who in the government is “constantly erring,” who is “stamping his feet,” etc. And the members of the Parliament were listening to this delirium! Professor of physics E. P. Kruglyakov, the corresponding member of the Russian Academy of Sciences, called this case a symbol of “degradation of authorities’ (Nauka v Sibiri, weekly, Nos. 47 and 48, 1995).

There are a few ways to struggle against pseudoscience. One is to check publications and television programs prepared by astrologers, parapsychologists, etc. in order to find their mistakes and to disclose false “facts’ and bogus “theories.” This is being done by the NLO (UFO) Commission of the Russian Academy of Sciences and by the Committee for the Scientific Investigation of Claims of the Paranormal in the United States and elsewhere. But we are never sure that the results will be as widely available to the public, radio listeners, and television watchers as are false claims. In every case scientists can be labeled “oppressive” or “fighters against new ideas.”

Another way is the popularization of real science, its laws, and its achievements. Everywhere we can use the possibilities to teach: in schools, universities, in television and radio programs. But maybe the best way of popularization is to publish books and articles in popular journals.

Such publications should not only be correct and understandable; they must be very interesting, written by scientific authors skillful in popularization.

In Russia we had examples of good, popular books on mathematics, physics, biology, and geology (including mineralogy and geochemistry). Repeatedly reprinted, these books attracted the attention of adults and teenagers for decades. One of the most popular books amongst teenagers — my contemporaries — in the 1940s was the collection of romantic short stories by the well-known Russian mineralogist and geochemist A. E. Fersman, named Reminiscences about Stone. There are twenty-five stories, from three to nine pages each, connected with the brightest memories of the author’s life.

“Saami’s Blood” described the legend about the origin of the rare mineral eudialyte, red in color, in the Lovozero Mountains of the Kola Peninsula. “Testa Nera” (from the Italian for “black head”) was a folk story telling why crystals of polychromatic tourmaline on Elba Island have black tops. “Blue Stone of Pamirs’ was about the deposits of lapis lazuli in one of the mountain creeks with an appropriate name, Lajvar-Dara (Lazurite Creek).

“Proceeding to Sulfur” documented the story of the discovery of rich deposits in the center of the Kara-Kum Desert.

“The Kiss” was about the unexpected gratitude of a Mongolian guide who had to be threatened to show the way.

In the final chapter, the author calls upon young people to explore vast territories of Siberia, to discover ores and waters under their feet, and to invent new methods of metal extraction. He cited the words of the great Russian scientist of the eighteenth century, Michael Lomonosov: “Metals and minerals will not come to the yards themselves, they demand eyes and hands to be found.”

Hundreds and thousands of youngsters became students in geology and geography departments of universities after reading this book and many other books written by Fersman and his colleagues, for example, geologists V. A. Obruchev and I. A. Efremov. I will cite just one sentence from Obruchev’s popular book Foundations of Geology: “What does a stream whisper running along a ravine?”

These authors wrote their books (sometimes science fiction, such as Plutonia by Obruchev and Andromeda Nebula by Efremov) to show not only interesting facts and fantastic landscapes, but also principles of nature and specific features of life in expeditions. They tried to attract readers’ attention to many puzzles of science, and to the excitement and happiness of divining them.

To my regret I cannot think of any members of the Russian Academy of Sciences of recent years who have written books for a wide circle of readers. It means that scientists do not consider the popularization of science to be one of their important functions.

One of the results is that, in many popular Russian journals such as Nauka i Zhizn (Science and Life), there are some poor scientific stories and even pages of parascientific attempts “to explain” something not understandable. In the bookstores, really scientific books are sinking in the seas of books with pretentious titles, such as Everything about Life, Secrets of Health, Stars Recommend, etc.

Let us stop being passive in situations when we have to act! Let us demand that mass media companies consult with real scientists when they publish or show something connected with science and nature. Let us write popular books and articles in order to demonstrate real scientific achievements and to make the truth stronger and more evident.

Perhaps the slick promotional billboards enticed you to make a short excursion from your planned trip. As you neared the site you would have seen a low ridge rising from the flat desert ahead. An earlier generation called the ridge “Coon Butte,” not realizing that it was actually the rim of a three-quarter-mile-wide crater.

When you stand on the rim, you look across an expansive circular cavity in solid rock that is so wide that it changes the wind patterns and attracts raptors that soar in the updrafts. This big hole truly should be listed as one of the natural wonders of the world.

What you may not know is that a century ago Meteor Crater was the subject of a great scientific controversy, and was a focal point for defining the scientific method and promoting scientific research at the dawn of twentieth-century American technological progress. One hundred years after that debate, Meteor Crater serves as a reminder of the importance of scientific knowledge and of the scientific method to our way of life.

In early 1896, the journal Science published an address that geologist Grove Karl Gilbert (1843-1918) had recently given to the Scientific Societies of Washington. Gilbert was the retiring president of the Geological Society of Washington and one of the top scientific thinkers of his time. He had also been chief geologist of the U.S. Geological Survey until Congress slashed the Agency’s budget in half, terminating his and others’ positions. His lecture was titled the “Origin of Hypotheses,” and was a description of the scientific method.

At the center of the scientific method, he said, is the hypothesis, or “the scientific guess.” Gilbert used the origin of Coon Butte to illustrate how this works. Four scientific guesses had been made at the time. The first came from a shepherd named Mathias Armijo, who found pieces of iron near the crater and reasoned that an explosion had hurled the metal out of the ground and formed the big hole (one does not have to be a scientist to think scientifically). Geologists who came to visit the site offered two scientific guesses involving two types of volcanic processes. A fourth hypothesis was the radical idea that a meteorite had hit the Earth.

Gilbert traveled to this then-remote part of the country and made measurements to test the various ideas. Because so little was known at the time about the physics of meteorite impacts, he predicted that such a cosmic collision would have left a very large piece of iron buried under the crater. His tests failed to find the predicted iron, so Gilbert rejected the impact idea. The small pieces of iron found on the surface by Armijo did prove to be meteorites but Gilbert concluded that they fell from the sky in an unrelated event (thereby also rejecting Armijo’s idea that they came out of the ground).

Of the two volcanic ideas, one predicted that volcanic rocks would be found in the crater. But the crater had none, so there was only one hypothesis left that had not been eliminated: some type of volcanic steam explosion.

That was the idea that Gilbert accepted as the correct explanation, even though he had arrived at the crater expecting to demonstrate that it was formed by an impact. He already supported the then-unpopular notion that such craters on the moon were formed by impacts, not volcanoes, but a good scientist does not allow personal feelings to get in the way of evidence. However, Gilbert was very careful to point out that there was much that was still not known about meteorites and impacts. He recognized that new facts might be discovered that would overturn his conclusion.

That is exactly what happened. We now understand that Gilbert overestimated the size of the meteorite that would be needed to pack enough punch to blast out such a big hole: Hypervelocity impacts are much more powerful than he realized. Furthermore, even a large iron meteorite will mostly vaporize in a giant explosion, leaving very few traces. Gilbert had made a mistake by assuming that the impact would leave a lot of buried iron.

It would be many years before a young scientist named Eugene Shoemaker and his colleagues from the U.S. Geological Survey would discover a rare new mineral in the rocks at the crater, a mineral that had been predicted to form from an impact. This discovery finally settled the controversy, and partially vindicated a shepherd’s original hunch that the hole was formed by some kind of colossal explosion involving iron.

The scientific process is sometimes slow, but it always involves making educated guesses that eventually lead to predictions that can be observed and put to a test. If the predictions turn out to be incorrect, the test is still successful as long as scientists learn enough to modify the theory, find a better one, or uncover mistaken assumptions. Unfortunately, even after the successes of twentieth-century science between Gilbert’s time and now, there are a lot of people who still don't like (or don't understand) the scientific form of reasoning.

In fact, modern science is now under attack from many directions. On the left are those who twist legitimate multiculturalism by going way beyond it to extreme relativism. They dogmatically assert that all ways of seeking knowledge are equally valid, but still insist that the scientific method is flawed because it originated in a time and place that causes them to view it as a Eurocentric, white male endeavor. Such thinking has encouraged proliferation of belief in pseudoscientific and unscientific ideas ranging from crystal healing to flying saucers. Even worse, it has turned some women and minorities away from careers in science, not only to their own detriment but to the detriment of society.

Science is also under attack from the religious right, whose literal interpretation of the Bible supersedes scientific evidence, logical reasoning, and common sense. In this fundamentalist view, any fact that is at odds with their own reading of the scriptures must be ignored. Unfortunately, this faction is not satisfied merely to reject science for itself, but it now has an active campaign to remove scientifically validated subjects (such as evolution) from the classroom and have them replaced by their own unscientific opinions (such as creationism).

Worst of all, science is now under attack by a budget-cutting Congress in Washington for whom dollars have measurable value but scientific knowledge does not. Members of Congress think that spending on basic science is like throwing money into a big hole in the ground. They do not realize that a dollar saved may be two dollars (or more) worth of knowledge lost.

Gilbert closed his late-nineteenth-century address by explaining that "fertility of invention implies a wide and varied knowledge of the causes of things,” and that deep understanding of nature through scientific research is essential. Gilbert told his audience that our “material, social, and intellectual condition” advances in lockstep with our “knowledge of natural laws.”

He concluded by comparing science to an investment: “Knowledge of nature is an account at [the] bank, where each dividend is added to the principal and the interest is ever compounded: And hence it is that human progress, founded on natural knowledge, advances with ever increasing speed!”

Since Gilbert spoke these words, our scientific bank account has led to inventions that his audience in Washington could not have imagined. Our investment has swollen with the advances we associate with modern living, with medical discoveries that have given us longer, healthier, happier lives, and with an unprecedented degree of national security.

We can thank Gilbert and his contemporaries for having the foresight to recognize 100 years ago the importance of this scientific bank account, and for making the effort to convince decision-makers to restore and increase funding for science. We should again ask those in Washington to pass along to future generations the American tradition of a strong investment in scientific knowledge, and trust in the scientific method. And we should remind them that research spending is money in the bank, not money in a hole.

On the lawn of your residence, about twenty feet from your doorstep, you see what looks like a newspaper amongst all the debris. Because of the adverse conditions, it is somewhat difficult to clearly see the print on the paper. But you do not subscribe to the local newspaper. Upon further inspection, and to your absolute bewilderment, you seem to be able to make out the words “London Times” at the top. Also on page one, there appears to be a large photograph of the football team that won the Super Bowl the previous day. The images are a bit fuzzy, but it certainly seems as though the London Times is headlining the previous day’s Super Bowl, which is not unusual for any paper. It seems rather bizarre, however, that an apparently current newspaper from another country would find its way to your lawn in Salina, Kansas. You do not, nor have you ever, subscribed to the London Times. Your curiosity and interest are escalating. So you go to your bedroom to put on a robe and slippers and then go outside in order to get a much closer look to determine if your eyes are deceiving you. But now, the “phantom” paper is gone. You check your neighbors’ yards, but no paper is in sight.

How can this experience be explained? There are several possibilities. But the question must be addressed from two perspectives:

• Was the perception, in fact, what the observer thought it was?
• If the argument is plausible, under what conditions could it be accounted for?

Concerning the first perception, there are myriad factors to consider. Recalling the wind and resulting debris, was this actually a newspaper or could it have been wrapping paper, someone else’s trash, or even reflected sunlight? If, in fact, it was a newspaper, can we verify that it was the London Times? That it was a photograph of the recent Super Bowl champions on the front page? What tangible evidence exists of your experience?

Concerning the second perception, how does a current issue of the London Times find its way to your residential lawn in Salina, Kansas? It is possible that the newspaper belonged to a neighbor and the wind blew it into your yard; this notion is easily supported or refuted with a small degree of legwork. But if this legwork does not yield a satisfactory explanation, we might then ask a series of other questions. If this, too, fails to provide adequate explanation, we then become faced with very tenuous possibilities. One such possibility is that a newspaper carrier from London, England, came to Salina, Kansas, by plane and delivered the paper to your house. Remote as this seems, it is a possibility. Not a perfectly logical or feasible answer, but the possibility is there.

It is at this point that drawing plausible conclusions based on logic becomes critical. Unfortunately, it is also at this point that much of the general public errs in drawing conclusions based on available evidence. A case in point: An object in the night sky is unidentified. This does make the object a UFO. But the term “UFO” only means that the object cannot be identified. If evidence is insufficient to ascertain its identity (or its reality), then the conclusions we can draw are very limited. Why, then, do so many jump to the conclusion that if we can't identify the object, then it must be an alien spacecraft from another solar system or galaxy? Understand, it might be an alien spacecraft, but before we can draw this conclusion we must have substantial evidence. Assuming that an unidentified object in the sky is an alien spacecraft is as tenuous and potentially erroneous as attributing the arrival of the English newspaper to Salina, Kansas, via a London carrier traveling by airplane. Yet in the newspaper example, we easily recognize the faulty thinking involved in making the assumption (hypostatic leap) of a Londoner making an unexplained home delivery to a nonsubscribing Kansas resident.

Why, then, does the UFO phenomenon seem to change the thinking process of so many? Is the UFO phenomenon, as well as other potentially anomalistic (paranormal) experiences, so intriguing that people allow it to alter their understanding of logical thinking? It is possible that alien spacecraft visit Earth, that abductions occur, that evangelists can reverse disease, that objects can move without apparent impetus, and that “ghosts” exist. But a word of caution: We cannot make positive conclusions about these phenomena without evidence, substantiation, and the use of logic. In other words, the scientific method must be employed as the basis for drawing conclusions regarding paranormal claims. Science is not a panacea for all explanation, but regarding paranormal claims it remains, by far, the best method. Let’s not fall into the trap of abandoning science and logic because of curiosity and imagination. Rather, let’s use curiosity and imagination as a springboard to the scientific method in order to draw accurate conclusions regarding mysteries of the universe.