It is safe to say that the creation/evolution debate will not be resolved
anytime soon, and why should it? With the recent squabbles in states
throughout America, and the Dawkinses and Dembskis trading haymakers with
each other, things are only getting interesting. Although I am merely a
ringside observer, I am here to blow the whistle on some apparent foul
play which I have observed. It is up to you to determine whether any of
the participants should be disqualified.

Let's go to the videotape...

Simply put, the language used by many of today's prominent Darwin
defenders, at least as it appears in the popular press, is inherently
self-defeating, as if they had a collective case of cognitive dissonance.
They routinely describe non-human processes as if they were actual people.
No sooner do they finish arguing that the universe could not possibly have
an Intelligent Designer, that they proceed to comment on how the universe
is so seemingly intelligently designed. No sooner do they discredit
evidence for a grand, cosmic plan, that they reveal their anticipation
towards what the next phase of it will be. Let me give you examples.

Dr. Massimo Pigliucci, in his Secular Web critique of Intelligent Design
theory ( "Design Yes, Intelligent No" ), utilizes several phrases whose
"scientific" definitions, I assume, are sufficiently esoteric enough to
obscure the fact that, as concepts, they defy common sense. He describes
the natural world as being a result of "non-conscious" creativity,
"non-intelligent design," and "chaotic self-organizing phenomena." If
these terms mean something very specific to evolutionary biologists, it
cannot be anything that is inferred by the actual words themselves. For
the very notion of design cannot be thought of in any other terms than
that of a conscious being with an intent, a scheme, a protocol, a plan, or
an intellect. Each of the 21 definitions of "design" in Webster's pertain
to a living subject, human by implication. This is not to say that random
arrangements of things cannot be fantastically complex; but if they are
not purposefully complex then the word "design" is incorrect. And "chaotic
self-organizing" is a cluster of words similar to "triangular circles": an excessively
clever term to describe something that can't possibly exist.

Other examples abound. A 1999 Time magazine cover story described human
evolution like it was General Motors, replacing the "clunkers" with "new
and improved" models: but doing it, of course, "blindly and randomly." [1]
Spare me, please, from blind and random "improvements." In the most recent
Free Inquiry (the magazine of the Council for
Secular Humanism), a scholar writes that both "Christians and humanists
agree on one thing: that humans are the most valuable form of life on the
planet," and that we are "the crown of earthly creation." [2] That is
precisely the one thing that a secular humanist cannot call us: the crown
of earthly creation. And valuable? Valuable to whom, and on what basis?
Another term which receives heavy usage is "success," as in a "successful"
species of lizard. But in order for anything to be a success, it must have
had some prior goal or standard to fulfill. If we cannot confirm a purpose
for which life is supposed to have originated, how can we say anything is
a success? What if chickens were supposed to fly? What if beavers were
supposed to build A-frames? Naturalistically speaking, anything is
successful if it exists. Even a pebble is successful at being a pebble.

Finally, Robert Wright, in a New Yorker piece which dope-slaps Stephen Jay
Gould for being an unwitting ally to creationists, proves himself to be a
pretty solid creationist in his own right, as he goes on to refer to
natural selection as a "tireless engineer" with a "remarkable knack for
invention," even comparing it to a
brain, indicative of a higher purpose, which stacks the evolutionary deck
and responds to positive feedback.[3] Maybe evolution is a focus group!?
Whether it is by ignorance, defiance or the limits of our language, these
Darwin defenders liberally use terms which are not available to them,
given their presuppositions. One cannot deny the cake, and then proceed to
eat from it!

It brings up the problem I have always had with the term "natural
selection." We all know what it means, and I can't dispute it's validity
as a model for the differentiation of species. As a word couplet, though,
it is a grammatical gargoyle, like the term "cybersex." If you were asked
to describe what sex is, it probably wouldn't sound like what happens when
a lonely data-entry intern in Baltimore starts typing his fantasies on a
flat screen which, thanks to thousands of miles of fiber-optic cable, is
then read by someone in Spokane. That situation has nothing to with the
purposes or processes of sex, as either God or nature intended it. The
modifier is not true to its object. Although the word "cyber-" is intended as a
kind of adjective, it comes dangerously close to totally redefining the
word which it is only supposed to modify. Contrarily, one could have a
blue book or a brown book, but in either case it is still a book. One
could make a hasty selection or a careful selection; it is still a
selection. But natural? A selection is a choice, and only a conscious
being that can process information can really make a choice, or even input
information into a system which will later result in a choice. However,
when the drying of a swamp puts a salamander out of existence, that is an
occurrence. We are comfortable with "natural selection" as a phrase,
because it conjures up images of Mother Nature, or some cosmic Gepetto
tinkering with his toys. As a technical term, it is a misleading oxymoron.

I know what this proves. It proves absolutely nothing. This is innocent
embellishment, lazy usage, or a validation of Chomskyesque theories about
the inadequacy of language.
One could say that a critique based on language is aimed at the most
inconsequential part of any argument, like saying that Kierkegaard would
have been more compelling if he had typed in New Times Roman. However, a
more careful consideration will reveal that exactly the opposite is true,
at least in this case. The words used by modern-day Darwinists are not a
sidelight, they are symptomatic of a fissure in the structure of their
thought. I believe that when someone wrongly calls the evolutionary
process a purposeful "design," it is not because of sloppy writing, but
because of intentional and thoughtful writing. It is because that is the
only idea that will work. It is the only word that will work. It is
because there is something brilliant, something awesome, and something
significant about our world, and our instinct is to want to know who gets
credit for it. The impulse is innate and proper. It is the decision to
give credit to an abstract and unauthored "process" which is out of sync.

Let me make the point in a more obvious way. Here are two written
accounts:

A. Two similar clusters of matter came into physical contact with each
other at a single point in space and time. One cluster dominated,
remaining intact; while the other began to break down into its component
elements.

B. A 26-year old man lost his life today in a violent and racially
motivated attack, according to Thompson County police. Reginald K. Carter
was at his desk when, according
to eyewitness reports, Zachariah Jones, a new employee at the Clark
Center, entered the building apparently carrying an illegally-obtained
handgun. According to several eyewitnesses, Jones immediately walked into
Carter's cubicle and shouted that "his kind should be eliminated from the
earth," before shooting him several times at point-blank range.

If asked where these two fictitious excerpts came from, most would say
that A was from a textbook or scientific journal, and probably describes
events observed under a microscope or in a laboratory. B would be a
typical example of newspaper journalism. Most people would say that, of
course, they are not talking about the same thing. But could they be?
Well, to the materialist, the answer is certainly negative. To those who
don't take their Darwinism decaffeinated, who embrace it as a philosophy
which excludes any non-natural explanations for life's origins, the answer
is absolutely. B perhaps wins on style points, but the content is the
same. Any outrage or emotion felt upon reading the second excerpt would be
a culturally conditioned response, but not a proof that there had been
anything "wrong" that had happened. In this view, A is probably the most
responsible account. Nature, with its fittest members leading the way,
marches on. I think I would be correct in stating that many would disagree
with, or be offended by, that analysis. What I am not really sure of, and
would like explained to me, is why? What is in view is not so much of a
Missing Link, as much as a Missing Leap: the leap from the physical to the
metaphysical. Taken as a starting point, I have no problem with
quantitative assessments. They establish a baseline of knowledge for us.

But what about life? Life is an elusive concept that cannot be
quantitatively assessed. As Stanley Jaki writes in his most recent book.
[4] Moreover, long before one takes up the evolution of life, one is faced
with a question of metaphysics whenever one registers life. Life is not
seen with physical eyes alone unless those eyes are supplemented with the
vision of the mind. No biologist contemptuous of metaphysics can claim, if
he is consistent, that he has observed life, let alone its evolution. We then
start to have an aesthetic appreciation for the beauty and ingenuity of
these life forms, and it is not long before we get around to talking about
abstract concepts such as rights, justice, and equality, and assigning
some species - namely, us - some kind of moral responsibilities for them,
none of which can be measured according to scientific methods.

I think it is safely assumed by all parties that, although we have some
physical and behavioral characteristics in common, humans are
significantly more intelligent and
sophisticated than our mammal friends, and possessed of a vastly different
consciousness. For whatever reason, we are unique enough to make us
"special." The problem is that the physical sciences cannot explain how,
much less why, this consciousness emerged. And a bigger problem is the
strangeness of our consciousness: abstract self-doubt, philosophical
curiosity, existential despair. How does an intense awareness of my
accidental existence better equip me for battle? Why do we consider
compassion for the sick to be a good thing when it can only give us a
disadvantage in our vicious eat-or-be-eaten world? Why would these traits
emerge so late in the game, when one would think evolution would be
turning us into refined, high-tech battle machines? We cannot acquire a
transcendent or "higher" purpose through evolution, any more than a sine
wave can develop separation anxiety. And yet many who swear by the powers
of Darwin and empiricism also cling, hypocritically, to a quite unproven
assumption that the human race is somehow set apart, created for a
glorious
destiny. Just as determinists argue undeterministically, scientists
believe unscientifically. The most serious offenders in this category have
to be the various minds behind the Humanist Manifesto, who roundly reject
the metaphysical even as they affirm it, by assumption, in their grand
prescriptions for humanity. This is called talking out of two sides of the
mouth. Now, biologically speaking, developing this trait would be a great
way for an organism to gain a tactical advantage in the struggle for
survival. Unfortunately, it also opens the creature up for easy attack in
life's intellectual jungles. These contradictory assumptions met each
other vividly in the theater of mainstream culture last year, during the
pop radio reign of "Bad Touch," the Bloodhound Gang song. You know the
song: it was the one with the refrain of "You and me, baby, ain't nothing
but mammals / So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel." It
was pure Darwinism for the dance floor and became an instant dorm room
classic, despite (or most likely, because of) the fact that it was too
explicit for the kitsch it aspired to. The party music stopped, however,
upon arrival of Thornhill and
Palmer's The Natural History of Rape, the book that investigated whether
rape was a genetically determined trait that enabled humans to climb the
evolutionary ladder. The book's research was as swiftly refuted as The
Bell Curve's. However, the white-hot center of controversy surrounding
this book was not the research, but the inferences that might have been
made from it: the fear that rape could be rationalized, or even accepted,
on a biological basis. The science may have been bad, but the logic is
faultless. Why can't a chameleon's color change, a bat's sonar, and a
man's sexual coercion all be examples of successful evolutionary "design"?
Given the absence of any empirical alternative to social Darwinism, the
nonconsensual Discovery Channel bump-and-grind is a pretty educated
approach to sexual ethics. I repeat: one cannot deny the cake, and then
proceed to eat from it.

That, then, is why the language is confused: because the ideas are
confused, because the mind is confused. To the extent that our Darwinians
and humanists seek answers to
humanity's dilemmas using the natural sciences, they are absolutely on the
right track. To the extent that they reject the idea of a divine or
supernatural creator using the natural sciences, they are not only
overstepping the boundaries of their field, but they are plainly
contradicted by their language, their goals, and their lives. G.K.
Chesterton, writing a century ago, astutely observed this dichotomy in the
modern mind when he said that "the man of this school goes first to a
political meeting, where he complains that savages are treated as if they
were beasts; then he takes his hat and umbrella and goes on to a
scientific meeting, where he proves that they practically are beasts." [5]
It is precisely this incongruity which remains unaccounted for today. This
incongruity was raised to heights both humorous and sublime by noted
Harvard biologist E. O. Wilson, writing an essay for the Atlantic Monthly
called "The Biological Basis of
Morality." In it, Wilson outlines the argument for his suspicion that
morals, ethics, and belief in the supernatural can all be written off to
purely materially-originating, evolutionary-guided brain circuitry, and
that's that. In the light of this, he suggests in his conclusion that
evolutionary history be "retold as poetry, " because it is more
intrinsically grand than any religious epic.[6] But if moral reasoning is
just a lot of brain matter in motion, where does that leave appreciation
for poetry? And seeing that poetry has a definite beginning and an end, as
well as an author and a purpose, isn't the evolutionary epic the very last
thing that could be told as poetry? Besides, who could possibly come up
with a rhyme for lepidoptera? If life is a drama, then it needs a Bard;
and we need to learn to acknowledge our cosmic Bard, just like Alonso in
the final act of The Tempest:

 This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod,
 And there is in this business more than nature
 Was ever conduct of. Some oracle
 Must rectify our knowledge.

1. Michael D. Lemonick and Andrea Dorfman, "Up From the Apes," TimeMagazine 154 no. 8, August 13, 1999.
2. Theodore Schick, Jr., "When Humanists Meet E.T.," Free Inquiry 20 no.3,Summer 2000, pp. 36-7.
3. Robert Wright, "The Accidental Creationist," The New Yorker, Dec. 30,1999, pp. 56-65.
4. Stanley Jaki, The Limits of a Limitless Science, (Wilmington, DE: ISI Books, 2000, p. 97).
5. G. K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy, (NY: Image Books, 1990, pp 41-2).
6. E.O. Wilson, "The Biological Basis of Morality," The Atlantic Monthly 281 no. 4, April 1998, pp. 53-70.

Oryginal: http://www.infidels.org/library/modern/features/2001/dernavich1.html

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