The Lynching of Bill Dembski
Scientists say the jury is out -- so let the hanging begin.
by Fred Heeren
Mathematician William Dembski stands accused of bringing shame
upon a
major university. Not only that, say his colleagues, he has
managed to
disgrace the entire scientific enterprise.
Scientists from distant universities wrote letters to the editors
of his
university newspaper, and biologists spoke up through the surrounding
city papers, telling the public why this man must be stopped.
When
Dembski organized an academic conference, one incensed professor
from
another state sent long e-mails to the scheduled speakers, seeking
to
discredit Dembski and convincing one famed philosopher to cancel.
The faculty senate of his own Baylor University voted 26 to 2
to
recommend that his research center be dismantled. Eight members
of
Baylor's science departments wrote Congress about the dangers
of
Dembski's project, and several briefings on the issues were
made before
a bipartisan group of congressional members and staff.
So you're wondering: What kind of new and evil science is William
Dembski practicing? Is he cloning half-humans without souls
to create
cheap labor? Several Baylor students interviewed for this article
couldn't
pinpoint the exact deed, but knew it was immoral because they
heard that
it had something to do with an evil use of the human genome
project.
What does Bill Dembski think of all this? A mild-mannered
mathematician more at home with probability theory than politics,
he
shakes his head in disbelief. "I've found that when people get
to know
me one-on-one, they think what I'm doing is legitimate, or at
least worth
pursuing. But when they start listening to the siren call of
the Internet,
things get out of control."
What Dembski has actually done hardly seems nefarious. As a scientist
with twin Ph.D.'s in mathematics and philosophy, Dembski has
set about
developing mathematical methods for detecting intelligent design,
should
it be discernible, in nature. That's all. What's more, he has
submitted his
work to the scientific scrutiny of his peers. So why are all
these
professors so hysterical?
Disguised Creationism?
Since the 1980's, critics have charged that the intelligent designconcept
is really just "a disguised form of creationism." According
to Eugenie
Scott, executive director of the National Center for Science
Education:
"They're really saying God does it, but they're not as honest
as the
Biblical creationists. The intelligence is really spelled in
three letters:
G-O-D."
Not at all, says Dembski. Intelligent design points not to a
creator, but to
a designer -- a crucial distinction. "If you examine a piece
of furniture,"
he explains, "you can identify that it is designed, but you
can't identify
who or what is responsible for the wood in the first place.
Intelligent
design just gets you to an intelligent cause that works with
pre-existing
materials, but not the source of those materials."
Neuroscientist Lewis Barker, who left Baylor in protest over
the
administration's "religious" policies, buys none of this: "I
see it as a form
of stealth creationism, a very old argument wrapped in new clothes."
Later, however, he adds: "The whole notion of using mathematics,
that's
something new."
Also novel is the respect many "intelligent design" proponents
have
earned in the academic community. "They're real academics, not
cranks,"
admits Skeptic magazine publisher Michael Shermer, whose editorial
board
is overwhelmingly composed of intelligent design critics such
as Stephen
Jay Gould and Eugenie Scott herself. "They have real degrees
and
tenure," adds Shermer. Not only does William Dembski have doctorates
in
mathematics and philosophy, he has done postdoctoral work in
mathematics
at MIT, physics at the University of Chicago, and computer science
at
Princeton University. Even Lewis Barker says: "He seems to be
a very
bright guy."
Eugenie Scott argues that intelligent design proponents don't
have a
scholarly position because they never submit their work for
peer review.
But each time she brings up the kind of scholarly evaluation
that's lacking
-- the reviewed publications or academic conferences -- she
stops short
when she comes to the work of William Dembski.
Regarding conferences, Scott remembers Dembski's "The Nature
of
Nature" conference (April 12-15 at Baylor) and grudgingly admits:
"They
actually did invite some scientists there." In fact, the slate
of speakers
included two Nobel Prize-winning scientists and several members
from the
National Academy of Sciences. The list was weighted toward prominent
biologists, physicists, and philosophers who were critical of
intelligent design.
And when Scott ticks off a list of non-peer-reviewed design literature,
she hesitates when she recalls that Dembski's book, The Design
Inference, was written as part of a Cambridge University philosophy
of
science series. Published as Dembski's doctoral dissertation
in
philosophy, it became Cambridge's best-selling philosophical
monograph
in recent years. After surviving a review of 70 scholars, and
then the
standard dissertation defense at the University of Illinois,
The Design
Inference finally underwent corrections and refereed scrutiny
for two
years at Cambridge University Press.
The great irony is that just as Dembski is proposing to test
his theory
with the help of molecular biologists, the very scientists who
are
challenging intelligent design to pass scientific tests are
using every means
possible to ensure those tests never take place.
Birth of a Think Tank
The brief story of Dembski's Michael Polanyi Center starts with
its home:
Baylor University, the world's largest Baptist institution,
located in Waco,
Texas. For years, Baylor had a reputation among conservatives
for going
the way of many once-Christian colleges, neglecting its religious
heritage
and embracing the politically correct tenets of secular humanism
instead.
All that began to change when Robert Sloan became president of
Baylor
University in 1995. Sloan, a New Testament scholar with a doctorate
in
theology from the University of Basel, proposed to return the
school to
its mission of integrating academic excellence and Christian
commitment.
To foster this goal, he oversaw the establishment of the university's
Institute for Faith and Learning, which explores opportunities
for
profitable engagement between faith and academic pursuits like
art,
history, business -- even science.
Sloan resisted the urging of fundamentalists to "throw the evolutionists
out" of the biology department, vowing never to bar anyone at
Baylor
from teaching evolution. He rejects the notion of a "creation
science"
(6-day creation a few thousand years ago). But he also believes
that "the
academic world has become far too compartmentalized."
"Baylor ought to be the kind of place where a student can ask
a question
and not just get the runaround," says Sloan. "He shouldn't have
to go to
the theology department and be told, 'Oh, that's a scientific
question.
Don't ask me that.' And then the student goes to the science
department
and they tell him, 'That's a religious question. Don't ask me
that.'"
So far this doesn't sound too different from many other universities
nationwide that have recently set up centers to revisit the
relationship
between science and religion. But matters took a fateful turn
in the fall of
1998 when President Sloan read an article by William Dembski
and was
wowed by his work and credentials. Others in the administration
were
also impressed. Michael Beaty, director of the Institute for
Faith and
Learning, says that Dembski's work "fit right in with the institute.
Bill was
fruitfully dialoging with religion and science."
When Beaty sounded him out about his interest in joining the
institute, he
learned that Dembski was seeking to build a research center
to test the
theory of intelligent design. The administration received his
ideas with
enthusiasm. His research would pursue not only intelligent design,
but a
broad range of topics having to do with the foundations of the
natural
and social sciences. Thus was born the Michael Polanyi Center,
which
Dembski named for an eminent physical chemist who taught that
biology is
not reducible to chemistry and physics.
"This was an opportunity to reaffirm that Baylor is a university
where
controversial issues can be discussed," says Donald Schmeltekopf,
Baylor's provost. "We decided to go ahead and give it a chance,
believing the university would be a richer and more compelling
place,
knowing that there would be those who would have objections."
His
pleasant expression disappears, and he adds: "We didn't anticipate
the
amount of objection."
Controversy
After Dembski brought on board Bruce Gordon (Ph.D. in the history
and philosophy of physics) as associate director of the Polanyi
Center,
the duo made a good first impression on the faculty they met.
Gordon led
a colloquium reading group, using two books about interactions
between
science and faith. Discussion with participating faculty was
cordial.
"The controversy began after our Website debuted in mid-January,"
explains Gordon. "That's what drew more faculty attention to
the center."
While the Polanyi site itself was unexceptionable, other groups
with
evolutionist-bashing agendas began linking up their Websites
to the
center. Many on the biology faculty flashed back to old culture
battles,
when such groups had publicly questioned the professors' integrity.
Gordon is understanding, but explains that the realities of the
Web are
such that the Polanyi Center has no control over who connects
to their
site.
"We don't endorse a connection to those sites at all. They didn't
ask our
permission. But we can't spend our time policing the Internet."
Reaction built quickly. One professor who had previously been
friendly
at the reading group wrote Gordon an insulting letter. An e-mail
frenzy
began between faculty in all departments, calling special attention
to the
creationist Websites that claimed the Polanyi Center as one
of their own.
News spread to other universities, and soon newspapers in Waco
and
Houston were filled with reactions from a handful of vocal Baylor
professors who were appalled that such a monstrosity as the
Polanyi
Center should be found on their campus.
By this time, plans were well under way for a large Polanyi conference
called "The Nature of Nature." Most Baylor biologists decided
to boycott
the event. Even so, the April conference drew 350 scholars from
around
the world whose views varied wildly on the conference's central
question: "Is the universe self-contained or does it require
something
beyond itself to explain its existence and internal function?"
By all accounts, the conference itself was an outstanding success,
drawing attention to Baylor as a place that could attract world-class
scholars for dialogue on the big questions. In spite of one
out-of-state
professor's campaign to convince all speakers to cancel, the
conference
brought together such luminaries as Nobelist/physicist Steven
Weinberg,
Nobelist/biochemist Christian de Duve, big bang cosmologist
Alan Guth,
paleontologist Simon Conway Morris, and philosopher Alvin Plantinga.
But the conference only focused the Baylor faculty's anger more
intensely
on the Michael Polanyi Center. A few days after it ended, the
faculty
senate met and voted to recommend that the administration dissolve
the
center immediately. The faculty claimed that President Sloan
had no right
to set up such a center and choose its head without their involvement.
"It's rather ironic that people in the scientific community,
whose rights
had to be protected in the face of ideological pressure [from
creationists], now appear to be suppressing others," says President
Sloan. "People have always asked questions about the relationship
of
religious views and the natural phenomena we see in the world.
I think it
just borders on McCarthyism to call that 'creation science.'"
The day after the faculty senate vote, President Sloan addressed
the
faculty, telling them that he would not close down the Polanyi
Center
merely because they demanded it. The procedure he had used in
setting up
the center was no different from the one he and previous administrators
had used to establish other centers.
Michael Beaty, director of the Institute for Faith and Learning,
notes that
they had used the same procedure for setting up the Center for
American
Jewish Studies, without criticism.
Recognizing that the faculty's real objections were not about
procedure,
Sloan repeated to the faculty an earlier announced plan to form
an
independent peer review committee to evaluate William Dembski's
work and
the work of the Polanyi Center. He said that he sympathized
with the
science faculty over their concern for their reputations, but
that the bigger
issue is academic freedom. He didn't like the idea of snuffing
out a
project without giving it a chance to have its work reviewed
by peers.
Assuming the committee would impartially address the matter,
Dembski
welcomed the review. "Academic programs need to be held accountable,"
he
said at the time. "I would go further than that and say that
I value
objective peer review. I always learn more from my critics than
from the
people who think I'm wonderful."
Initially, Baylor spokesman Larry Brumley insisted that the committee
wouldn't be asked whether the center should be dissolved. "It's
not a
committee to look at whether we should reconsider having the
Polanyi
Center," Brumley said. "They're looking at how we can better
communicate
its purpose and address the concerns of faculty members."
When the committee membership was announced, however, Dembski
was surprised to find antagonistic biologists in the majority.
Worse, the
committee did not include a single person capable of understanding
the
mathematical arguments made in Dembski's The Design Inference.
(This was
partially rectified when one statistician was later added to
the team.)
Neither were Dembski's prospects brightened when the committee
chose as its head William Cooper, a philosophy professor who
calls the
Polanyi Center extremely "polarizing" and doubtlessly connected
to the
old-style "creationists."
Lingering anger in the biology department is perhaps an understandable
reaction after years of ideological assault by creationism activists.
But the
personal outrage against the very idea of Dembski's work runs
even
deeper than that. The resentment becomes obvious to any outsider
who
dares to roam the halls of the Baylor biology department and
ask
professors for their take on the dispute.
What exactly is intelligent design (ID), and why do the very
words incite
such fury among some biologists?
What Is Intelligent Design?
ID depends upon a concept known as specified complexity.
Say you're out raking leaves in the backyard. If you were to
find little
piles of leaves, equally spaced apart in a long line, the arrangement
would be an example of specificity, but it could be explained
by what fell
out of a rolling barrel. Each time the barrel made a revolution,
another
clump fell out, each spaced apart by about the same distance.
The
pattern is specified, but not complex.
When you come across thousands of piles of leaves in no particular
pattern, that's complex, and it may take billions of overturned
barrels to
produce another pattern just like it. But it's not specified.
No intelligent
design is required to explain it.
But let's say you come across a thousand leaves arranged as letters
spelling meaningful words, sentences, paragraphs, even a whole
story--that's specified complexity. Specified complexity creates
information and meaning, and that requires intelligent design.
Many scientific disciplines already use such logic to distinguish
between
phenomena produced by an intelligence from those that are not.
The
cryptologist, when breaking a code, looks for patterns that
create
meaning and are not due to chance. SETI (Search for Extraterrestrial
Intelligence) does the same in its search for signals of intelligence
from
space (think Jodie Foster in Contact). Even Quincy's forensic
science
was all about trying to determine whether a death was due to
an
accident, natural causes, or the design of an intelligence.
William Dembski puts it this way: "Specified complexity powerfully
extends the usual mathematical theory of information, known
as Shannon
information. Shannon's theory dealt only with complexity, which
can be
due to random processes as well as to intelligent design. The
addition of
specification to complexity, however, is like a vise that grabs
only things
due to intelligence. Indeed, all the empirical evidence confirms
that the
only known cause of specified complexity is intelligence."
Thus when Dembski observes this specified complexity in DNA
messages and protein coding, he infers intelligent design. These
patterns
give real information in the form of meaningful instructions,
precisely
analogous to language with words, sentences, punctuation marks,
and
grammatical rules.
The old "scientific creationism" based itself upon two tenets:
a
supernatural agent created all things, and the Bible gives us
an accurate
account of what happened. In contrast, according to Dembski,
intelligent
design is built upon three very different tenets:
1. Specified complexity is well
defined and empirically
detectable.
2. Undirected natural causes are
incapable of explaining
specified complexity.
3. Intelligent causation best
explains specified complexity.
The anti-ID school might argue that in the case of biological
evolution,
natural causes do eventually produce the specified complexity
we see in
living things. Natural selection culls through countless mutations
over
time, eventually producing specified complexity. As the need
for survival
helps organisms evolve, new information is created and they
ratchet their
way up into new forms.
The problem with this scenario, according to ID theorists, is
that
mutations do not produce new information. Natural selection
has slim
pickin's to choose from, even when it picks the fittest. Without
an
intelligence to produce new information, no amount of re-shuffling
of
genes will result in a new organism.
Biologist Peter Medawar called this principle the law of conservation
of
information. Michael Polanyi himself believed that natural selection
and
mutation, the two mechanisms of neo-Darwinism, are inadequate
for the
task of producing new anatomies or functions in evolving animals.
The
focus on information theory is one reason mathematicians have
often been
more skeptical of rigid Darwinist explanations than their colleagues
in biology.
If the creation of new information is such a problem, you ask,
then why
isn't this common knowledge in our institutions of higher learning?
And if
intelligent design is such an obvious answer, why haven't we
heard more
about this before? For one thing, no one's ever gotten far enough
along
to test it before. But William Dembski is getting close.
Bruce Gordon says that design theory, as a scientific strategy,
involves
two goals: 1. to mathematically characterize designed structures
(using
stochastic processes theory, probability theory, complexity
theory, etc.)
to detect intelligent design, and 2. to go into nature and see
whether the
mathematical structures map onto the physical structures in
a way
indicative of design.
This, of course, is precisely what Dembski has been preparing
to do with
his research center. He is laying the groundwork to hire molecular
biologists to do research on protein structure and protein folding
to test
ID. "What has to happen," says Dembski, "is that ID has to generate
research that's more fruitful for biology than neo-Darwinism."
Can design actually be tested as part of science?
"Has ID really been tried?" repeats Eugenie Scott. "I think that's
a
legitimate question. I don't really think we have an answer
yet."
"The jury is out on that," says William Cooper, chair of the
committee
evaluating the Polanyi Center. "The mathematical discussion
has not
progressed sufficiently."
Of course, if the committee pronounces final sentence on the
Polanyi
Center and ends all discussion now, we'll never know. The hanging
will
have occurred before the jury comes back.
Before Congress
On May 10, a month after Baylor's big Polanyi conference, a number
of
members of Congress attended a three hour briefing on intelligent
design.
William Dembski had been invited to join other ID scientists
in the
presentation, but the Baylor administration ordered him not
to
participate. President Sloan wanted to keep Baylor from all
appearance
of mixing academics with politics.
But some Baylor biologists became so concerned about how far
the
intelligent design message was spreading that eight of them
drafted a long
letter to Congressman Mark Souder, an Education Committee member,
who had co-hosted the meeting. Their letter was intended to
let the
congressman know that he had been duped by the ID proponents,
and that
ID research is not legitimate science. Their attempt to embarrass
the
ID people was turned around on them when Congressman Souder
responded with his own presentation to the House of Representatives,
including the reading of their letter into the Congressional
Record.
Using their letter as Exhibit A, he told the House that these
scientists
were practicing "viewpoint discrimination in science and science
education," and that "ideological bias has no place in science."
Referring to the letter's frequent use of the phrase "materialistic
science"
as their noble cause, the congressman told his colleagues, "One
senses
here not a defense of science but rather an effort to protect,
by political
means, a privileged philosophical viewpoint against a serious
challenge....
As [members of] the Congress, it might be wise for us to question
whether the legitimate authority of science over scientific
matters is being
misused by persons who wish to identify science with a philosophy
they
prefer."
A preferred philosophy? Could it be that it took an outsider,
a
congressman from Indiana no less, to get an objective fix on
the real
source of the conflict?
Philosophizing Science
There is a method used in science today that goes beyond the
scientific
method. It's based on a philosophy called naturalism, defined
by Funk &
Wagnalls as "the doctrine that all phenomena are derived from
natural
causes and can be explained by scientific laws without reference
to a
plan or purpose." It's the "without plan or purpose" part that
nixes
intelligent design.
When this philosophy is applied to science, it's called methodological
naturalism, and for many scientists today it is an unquestioned
assumption.
Last spring biology Professor Richard Duhrkopf got his picture
in the
papers when he accused the Polanyi Center of trying to "change
the
philosophy of science." But is science supposed to have a particular
philosophy attached to it? Many of us laymen have always thought
that
science was supposed to be about applying the scientific method
to
observations and measurements and gaining as much knowledge
of the world
as possible, not reaching foreordained conclusions.
Methodological naturalism proposes that scientists be provisional
atheists
in their work, no matter what contrary evidence they find. Intelligent
design proponents are asking simply that science be purified
of all
philosophical biases. At least, no philosophical bias should
be promoted
as scientific. Scientists are welcome to hold to personal philosophies
and
even have them running in the background, as guiding principles,
if they
think that helps them do their work. But those personal philosophies
should not be confused with science.
Berkeley law professor Phillip Johnson stated the issue succinctly
at the
congressional briefing: Americans, he said, must choose between
two
definitions of science in our culture: 1. science is unbiased,
empirical
testing that follows the evidence wherever it leads, or 2. science
is
applied materialist philosophy which, like Marxism or Freudianism,
is
willing to impose its authority.
Being Methodologically Correct
"The twentieth century was the high point of methodological
correctness," says President Sloan. "We all know that life is
more than
sociology or history or anthropology. Unfortunately, people
have
forgotten that the methodological brackets we apply are purely
artificial,
intended to be temporary."
ID keeps an open mind, and is entirely agnostic on the subject
of
religion. The intelligent design that Dembski hopes to detect
could belong
either to a Biblical God or to an earlier race of Martians who
planted us
here (like in the movie Mission to Mars).
The idea that life here was seeded from another place may seem
pretty
far out. But Francis Crick, winner of the Nobel Prize for his
co-discovery of DNA's structure, is one of a number of scientists
who
have seriously promoted the "panspermia" hypothesis, the idea
that life
was sent here in the form of seeds from a faraway civilization.
The
reason for such an idea? Crick wrote that "the probability of
life
originating at random is so utterly minuscule as to make it
absurd."
Writing with his colleague Chandra Wickramasinghe, Crick stated:
"The
theory that life was assembled by an intelligence...is so obvious
that one
wonders why it is not widely accepted as being self-evident.
The reasons
are psychological rather than scientific."
Asked about the Mission to Mars possibility, Michael Shermer
replies,
"That's a legitimate hypothesis. That's testable, that's explainable.
But 'a
miracle happened' -- that's different." In other words, design
is
detectable and testable--but only as long as you can be sure
ahead of
time that the designer isn't God.
This is less a philosophy than an intellectual straitjacket.
By this
reasoning, scientists whose findings point to natural causes
may proceed
unimpeded, while those whose evidence points to a supernatural
cause
must immediately close up shop and go home. One thing you have
to say
for Dembski's intelligent design theory: It makes the ultimate
questions
real, putting them into our own world. By blocking ID research,
methodological naturalism becomes not only a method for doing
science,
but a method for keeping the deepest human concerns a safe distance
from
our personal lives.
On September 8 and 9, the peer review committee finally met and
even
brought in Dembski and Gordon for 45 minutes of grilling. One
committee
member chastised Dembski for questioning the adequacy of neo-Darwinism.
Dembski, however, showed none of the hoped-for contrition. As
this issue
goes to press, the committee is getting set to announce its
recommendation.
What will be the fate of Dembski, Gordon, and their Michael Polanyi
Center? It's up to one man only -- President Robert Sloan. He
can bow to
faculty pressure and dissolve the present Polanyi Center, perhaps
restaffing it with scholars more to the faculty's liking; or
clip Dembski's
wings by taking away his ability to raise money to run programs.
Or he
can stand behind the man he hired, make the case that science
should be
about facts, not McCarthyite lynch mobs -- and take the heat
that will
surely be generated by disgruntled faculty and their sympathetic
media.
Either way, the ultimate victim or victor won't be Bill Dembski,
it will be
unbiased science and humanity's quest to discover the truth
-- wherever
that truth leads us.
Top 10 Accusations
Bill Dembski is guilty of: (a) Politically incorrect thought-crimes.
(b) True
crimes against science and religion. You decide. Here are the
leading
accusations--and how the Polanyi Center folks reply:
1. It's all a front for the creationists.
Lewis Barker: "These people are creationists. They define that
as
someone who takes a literal interpretation of Genesis."
Reply: ID is a research project to find out if design is detectable.
Unlike
creationism, it's not concerned with the identity of the designer.
It
proposes scientific tests that can be falsified, not presuppositions
that
must be believed. Bruce Gordon says, "The Polanyi Center has
no
interest at all in the Biblical literalist approach. I have
considerable
problems with it. It doesn't do justice to science nor to Biblical
hermeneutics."
2. It's all politics.
Michael Shermer: "Their agenda is a re-introduction of Judeo-Christian
thought into the public schools. They're carrying out a bottom-up
strategy, by starting in the academy."
Reply: The Polanyi Center's purpose is research, not getting
involved in
politics or textbook wars. If ID proves correct, say its adherents,
its
research results should of course be included in textbooks.
But no one at
Polanyi is proposing that Genesis be taught in public schools.
3. ID is a science stopper.
Complaining Baylor faculty members, says one journalist, "see
the
intelligent design crowd as seeking to put a tourniquet on inquiry."
Reply: Dembski says that naturalism often stops inquiry, "such
as in its
expectation for the uselessness of vestigial organs and junk
DNA,
whereas intelligent design profitably continues looking for
their function."
The call for the dissolution of the Polanyi Center is a better
example of
"putting a tourniquet on inquiry." Even ID proponent Phillip
Johnson, the
Berkeley law professor most abhorred by ID critics, does not
advocate
the removal of Darwinism from the curriculum, but that schools
should
"teach the controversy."
4. ID doesn't want peer review or criticism.
Included in the Baylor biologists' letter to Congress was the
claim: "The
supporters of intelligent design have never openly presented
their data."
Reply: Anyone looking at the list of scientists invited to the
"Nature of
Nature" conference should be cured of that notion. The majority
were
critics of ID.
5. All they say is that God did it. And where did He come from?
Saying that God did it, writes Darwinist Richard Dawkins, only
leaves us
with an unobservable cause that itself needs to be explained.
Reply: ID, says Dembski, studies the results, the design, not
the agent
that produced it. Dembski further points out that most new theoretical
entities would forever remain off limits if their source had
to be fully
understood before they could be proposed. Example: Boltzmann's
kinetic
theory of heat, which invoked the motion of unobservable particles
(now
called atoms and molecules), which Boltzmann could not explain.
6. ID can't be quantified.
Lewis Barker: "There is absolutely no prediction Dembski can
make. His
arguments do not produce a new research agenda."
Reply: Lewis Barker should read Dembski's monograph, in which
he
lays out rigorous, mathematical tests to identify complex specified
information and to show how CSI always implies intelligent design.
7. All ID can do is criticize evolution.
Eugenie Scott: "It is certainly fair to describe them as anti-evolutionists."
Reply: In fact, says Bruce Gordon, "intelligent design is compatible
with
evolution. Many biologists are theistic evolutionists. Design
can be
understood as built into the initial conditions, so that the
subsequent
development was continuous and not interrupted by any transcendent
intervention. Yet the teleology could still be quantified through
the
methods of the mathematical techniques of design theory."
8. It's bad theology.
Eugenie Scott: "Theologians don't like it because it creates
a mammoth
'God-of-the-gaps' problem."
Reply: If intelligent causes exist (as forensic science and SETI
already
assume), then it is wrong to assume that all gaps in present
knowledge
must eventually be filled by non-intelligent causes.
9. It's bad science, or not science at all.
Reply: Dembski points out that if you say ID is not science because
it
can't be observed, then we must also toss out theoretical entities
like
quarks, super-strings, and cold dark matter. If you say it's
not science
because the design is not repeatable, then out goes the big
bang, the
origin of life, and the origin of humans. If you say science
must deal
exclusively with what is governed by law, then out goes the
special
sciences that deal with intelligent agents, like forensics and
SETI. ID
advocates aren't asking to be cut any more slack than these.
10. ID invokes supernatural causes.
According to Eugenie Scott and biologist/philosopher Michael
Ruse,
science studies natural causes, and to introduce design is to
invoke
supernatural causes.
Reply: Dembski says that this contrast is wrong: "The proper
contrast is
between undirected natural causes on the one hand and intelligent
causes
on the other. Whether an intelligent cause is located within
or outside
nature is a separate question from whether an intelligent cause
has acted
within nature. Design has no prior commitment to supernaturalism."
Fred Heeren is a science journalist who writes about modern
cosmology, paleontology, and biology. He lives in Wheeling,
Illinois.
This article also appears in the November 2000 issue of The
American Spectator.
(Posted 11/15/00)
Copyright © 2000 The American Spectator. All rights reserved.
Oryginal: http://www.spectator.org/archives/0011TAS/heeren0011.htm