By Mark Hartwig

One thing I love about the creation/evolution controversy is that it
provides no end of amusement.
     Take the summer of 1999 for example. When the Kansas state board of
education voted to de-emphasize the more speculative aspects of evolution
in the state science standards, folks went wild.
     In a broadside published in Time, Harvard paleontologist and science
writer Stephen Jay Gould, suggested that "as patriotic Americans we should
cringe in embarrassment that, at the dawn of a new technological millennium,
a jurisdiction in our heartland has opted to suppress one of the greatest
triumphs of human discovery."
     A little later, Scientific American, editor-in-chief John Rennie
urged college admissions officers to "make it clear [to the Kansas school board]
that in light of the newly lowered educational standards in Kansas, the
qualifications of any students applying from that state in the future will
have to be considered very carefully."
     Judging from the hyperbole you'd never guess that the Kansas
standards require as much knowledge of evolution as any other state in the union.
Yet the melodrama has gone on for over a year.
     For sheer paranoia, however, the current controversy in Pennsylvania
wins the prize.
     The controversy centers on Pennsylvania's proposed academic standards
for science and technology. Among hundreds of other things, these standards
specify that students should "acquire the knowledge and skills needed to.
compare and contrast scientific theories and beliefs" and to "critically
examine the status of existing theories."
     In physical science, chemistry and physics, this means that students
must be able to do things like "evaluate mathematical formulas that
calculate the efficiency of specific chemical and mechanical systems." In
biology, they must be able to do things like "analyze evidence of fossil
records, similarities in body structures, embryological studies and DNA
studies that support or do not support the theory of evolution"  and
"analyze the impact of new scientific facts on the theory of evolution."
     These are just the kinds of skills that science educators normally
long for. Except, that is, for the ones having to do with evolution. What do
they think of those?
     "It's code," said Molleen Matsumura, of the National Center for
Science Education, an organization headquartered in Berkeley, Calif., whose
purpose is defending the teaching of evolution in the public schools. "There are
people waiting in the wings to help teachers with that."
     Matsumura also fretted that some teachers may think they have a green
light to teach creationism.
     This all makes for great theater. But while our heroes have been out
guarding the schools from creationists, they have neglected more serious
problems.
     These problems have been documented in a new book by Jonathan Wells,
a Berkeley-educated postdoctoral biologist and a senior fellow at the
Seattle-based Discovery Institute. Titled Icons of Evolution, this new
book uncovers many false and misleading claims about evolution made by
introductory biology texts-claims that mainstream research biologists know
are wrong.
     One example that Wells documents is the peppered moth. If you've
taken an introductory biology class in the last couple of decades, you've
probably been told that the peppered moth is a classic example of "evolution
action." You've probably also seen pictures of these moths resting on tree trunks,
showing how their coloration either camouflages them or exposes them to
predation by birds.
     According to the textbooks, in woodlands where the color of the
trunks was darkened by pollution, moth populations became predominantly dark
colored. When the trunks became light again, following the imposition of
pollution control, the populations shifted back to light colored moths.
     That seems pretty straightforward. Problem is, biologists who study
peppered moths have known since the late 1980s that moths in the wild
don't rest on tree trunks. Instead, they apparently rest on the undersides of
small horizontal branches in the tree canopy.
     So the textbook story is wrong. Worse yet, the photos have been
staged. Since the moths don't normally rest on the trunks, photographers have had
to glue dead specimens to the trees.
     Most textbooks also contain drawings of embryos that biologists have
known to be false for over a century. Indeed, in 1997 one researcher who
led a team of international experts in an investigation of these drawings
remarked, "It looks like it's turning out to be one of the most famous
fakes in biology."
     So where's the outrage? Where are the calls to clean up textbooks?
     To his credit, Stephen Jay Gould has spoken out about the embryo
drawings. But by his own admission he's known about the problem for
decades. And it wasn't until a "creationist" (actually a professor of biochemistry)
spilled the beans in the August 13, 1999, New York Times, that he chose to
speak out. And then he chastised creationists for trying to capitalize on
the exposed fraud.
     With this kind of attitude, it's no wonder that the origins debate
continues to blaze in our public schools. If the "defenders" of science
education were more diligent to clean up their own act, perhaps they would
have fewer problems with creationists. They would certainly engender more
trust.
     That won't happen soon. But until it does, we can at least look
forward to more fine theatrics.
     Popcorn anyone?