oops I wrote an essay during the summer again
I read this book for a program on science and culture I'm doing this summer. The program advocates Intelligent Design (ID), and this book argues against it, but I really appreciate that we had to read it. I'm suspicious of any organization that shuts down the opposing view.
First, a clarification of terms: “Evolution” can mean three things: 1) change over time; 2) universal common descent; 3) the creative power of unguided natural selection acting on random mutations as the chief mechanism of change. (Thanks to the program I'm in for breaking that down.) Intelligent Design is compatible with the first two (although it doesn’t have to be); it only takes issue with the last. When I talk about “evolutionary Darwinism,” I'm referring to the third idea (methodological naturalism).
Kitcher’s respectful tone pleasantly surprised me. In fact, he seems genuinely concerned for the religious people who have, he claims, been led astray to believe that ID offers a solution to their science-versus-faith dilemma. Further, instead of scorning religious concerns and values, he acknowledges that they are deeply meaningful convictions and that usually devout people’s scientific decisions stem not from willful illogic but intellectually rigorous wrestling with different interpretations of both their faith and scientific data. I wasn't expecting this from a staunch Darwinism defender, and I appreciated his (usually) balanced and compassionate perspective.
On the scientific side of things, I found some of his arguments interesting. I need to research more the current Darwinian theories of how mutations are passed from one species to the next. Kitcher’s rebuttal of how IDers portray the problem—the argument that without one of the intermediate steps the structure could not function—confused me, which means more research on my end. However, his other arguments were less convincing philosophically. Here are two examples:
One of Kitcher’s primary issues with ID seems to be “junk” DNA and the presence of structures of related species in an organism that doesn't “need” them (ie, it don't express them in the way older species do). Why would an intelligent designer do that, Kitcher asks? It's inefficient and cluttered. If there really was a great designer, it would create differently. He repeats this argument often and yet there are multiple problems with it.
For one thing, as one of the lecturers in my program says, poor design does not equal no design. As much as I dislike the design of phones where the charging and earbud port is the same, it doesn't mean there is no design. Clearly there is a design.
Of course, poor design can lead to theological issues for those who believe the designer is a perfect God but a) that's not a scientific question and b) this leads to the second problem with the “junk” DNA argument: Is there such a thing as junk DNA at all? Yes, there are genetic sequences and structures whose function we don't understand—yet. We continue to discover purposes to things we previously wrote off as “vestigial.” Case in point: the appendix, or the long stretches nucleotide sequences before a protein-specific gene that at first appeared pointless but are actually essential for expressing that gene.
Thirdly, how do we know there is a better way to do something? We can speculate that a genome might look more elegant or efficient if it has less “junk” DNA but, to my point above, there may be a reason that we will one day discern. That is not a “God of the gaps” argument; rather, it should propel scientific inquiry so we can uncover the function of these confusing structures instead of writing them off as unfortunate but inevitable byproducts of the evolutionary process. Considered this way, is it really evolutionary Darwinism that makes predictions and offers a path forward for scientific investigation, or is it ID?
One more rebuttal: Kitcher points to Adam Smith's “invisible hand” of the free market as an example of something that seems designed but isn't really. At first, the idea was compelling to me. However, I realized that for the “invisible hand” to work, there have to be numerous designed structures in place—banks, insurance agencies, investment companies, harbors, stores, currency, credit cards, and more. All of those structures are clearly designed by intelligent agents. There may not be a master planner who coordinates every component, no sole composer, but the market is full of intelligent minds infusing information into it. Without those intelligent agents, there would be no market. No one person runs everything but the combined intelligence and information each possesses create the “invisible hand” phenomenon. So the free market demonstrates that stuff that looks designed is just that—designed.
However, what fascinated me most about this book wasn’t the science. It was the last chapter where Kitcher asks the fundamental question: Is evolutionary Darwinism incompatible with religious belief? Since he has laid out his arguments for why evolutionary Darwinism is the only valid science, relegating ID to a “dead science” (although still a science, a distinction most ardent Darwinians do not make), his question reduces to: Is science incompatible with religious belief?
Ah yes, the question of our time.
This is where I detected most of Kitcher’s sympathy toward devout believers, and I appreciated his thoughtfulness as he discusses this question. In the end, he argues that no, science and religion cannot coexist. The metaphysics of a supernatural being simply cannot meld with Darwin’s purely naturalistic account of the world. I agree with him here. I appreciate his honesty—no dancing around the impossible dilemma.
He toys with the idea of “spiritual religion,” evicting literal belief in religious myths and the supernatural, retaining only the principles for living a good life. He quickly dismisses that, acknowledging that there is little difference between such a “faith” and the secular humanism he ascribes to. This too is admirably honest. Such a faith is no faith.
Kitcher’s conclusion, then, is that we must mimic the benefits of religion—community, hope, morality—in a purely secular setting. We must find a way to create the meaningful, loving, purposeful family many faiths offer through other societal mechanisms. Not only is God dead, religion is dead. Or it should be.
This is where I'm left shaking my head. Where is he getting the idea that community or hope or morals are good things to have? Where is he getting the idea that there are, his words, “human needs” that religion provides? If everything is material and pointless (literally, teleogically), why should we care about the emotional, qualitative desires of the species who happened to win the evolutionary lottery? Without a God, how can we say what is good at all? Morality, fellowship, consolation—these are meaningless in a purely natural world.
I think Kitcher is being honest that we need these things as humans, but he's being dishonest in imagining they can exist without some transcendent source. In fact, secular humanism in general seems dishonest. Real belief in evolutionary Darwinism, if followed to its logical conclusion, looks more like Nazism, a brutal survival of the fittest.
Kitcher wants to bury religion because he insists that a good designer would not permit such suffering in his creation. Why would a creator allow so many creatures to live, suffer, and die before arriving at humans, the pinnacle of his creation? Kitcher repeats the word “cruelty” to describe the evolutionary process and cannot square it with a designer, certainly not a good one. This is where he thinks ID leads congregations of the faithful astray. To truly be science, ID cannot say the designer is God. But IDers, he claims, are winking at people, never explicitly stating but always intending to mean that this “intelligent agent” can be God. But the designer can’t be God, not if he’s loving and powerful.
And there it is—the problem of evil. It is the perennial problem: good God, broken world. Why? How? I can’t answer that here. I will say one thing, though. We cannot have the conceptions of suffering and cruelty being negative and bad unless we have a conception of the good. And where do we get any framework for good and bad from a purely material world? Only a transcendent source can provide morals.
Of course, that brings us back to the main problem, that if there is good and that good is the basis for everything, how can there be bad? That is a hard, important question. It's a question we need to wrestle with, not avoid by saying there is no fundamental source of right and wrong—and then continuing to use moral language and label certain actions or situations as good or bad.
I'm not sure how far the theology of the Fall helps us reckon with the suffering and death in nature; I need to study that. But again, that's not the point of this discussion. The point is that in a book arguing for the obsolescence of religion, it uses ideas and language that can only exist within some kind of religious framework. Kitcher proves the opposite of his point—that we need religion to think and talk and live as humans.
There's a lot more to be said about all of these issues but this is a book review, not an essay or another book, however close to that I may be getting to that wordcount. Overall, highly recommended for religious people who want to understand how the “other side” thinks. It's the most sympathetic and least condescending—and maybe most compelling—discussion you're likely to find.