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Rocks of
Ages:
Science
and Religion in the
Fullness
of Life
by
Stephen Jay Gould
Ballantine
Books:
February 2002.
viii + 241 pages.
Reviewed by David R. Larson
This
cheerful and charitable book by a prominent paleontologist and zoologist who divides his time
between Harvard and New York universities contends that religion and
science neither contradict nor corroborate each other because they are
fundamentally different. Science operates in the realm of facts. Religion
does its work in the sphere of values. Like oranges and apples, oil and
water and chalk and cheese, religion and science differ in what they what
they do and how they do it. They can neither hurt nor harm each other
unless they wrongly invade the other’s territory, something that happens
too often from both sides. Human life is best when we benefit from both,
each performing its proper task well and doing so within in its rightful
domain, Stephen Jay Gould contends.
Gould champions one of the mediating ways of
depicting religion and science. Orientations to one side of his agree that
religion and science are enemies even though they disagree as to which one
is the better. Those on the other side hold that we should integrate them
in larger harmonious wholes while they debate the best ways of
accomplishing this. Ian Barbour, a physicist and Christian theologian,
examines these various alternatives in a number of helpful books. This
readable volume by Gould is an excellent example of the "united we
fall, divided we stand" approach.
Gould develops his argument in four steps that
correspond to his book’s four chapters. In the first he reviews the
conflicts between religion and science and pinpoints the primary reason
for their frequent discord: poor boundaries! Like a parent who sends
quarreling children to different rooms in the same house, in his second
step he achieves peace by partially separating them. In his third and
fourth steps, Gould examines in greater detail some of the historical and
psychological factors that have contributed to the frequent conflicts
between religion and science. Throughout the entire book, he writes that
his claims are more important than original because, contrary to what we
might infer from the popular press, many specialists adopt his
approach, as they have for generations.
In a lengthy and important footnote near the
beginning of this book, Gould stipulates that his depictions of the
differences between religion and science are more gross than fine. This is
a concession that, although religion and science do differ, and although
it is vital to keep their differences in mind, their relationships are
more complex than they may first appear.
I believe that facts and values are
easier to distinguish in thought than in life and that widespread attempts
to accomplish the second have probably contributed to our ecological
problems. This fork has two spikes. First, we are unlikely to learn what
is the case about anything unless we think doing so is of value. Second,
the conviction that the non-human citizens of our world possess only the
value we grant has given us too much permission to exploit them. That
facts and values differ conceptually is clear; that they do so completely
in actual life is less so.
Gould’s assignment of religion to the realm
of values provides another opportunity for further clarification. As he
writes, the work of religion is more like determining what we should prize
than it is like discovering what is the case. But similar things can be
said of ethics and art. To lump all three forms of valuing under one
heading is helpful in some ways but not in others. Important differences
remain between asking how much a rock weighs (science) and inquiring whether it is
beautiful (art), was made by God (religion) or should be thrown at those who are bothering
us (ethics)!
We should also be careful when portraying
science as discovering what "is" with religion, ethics
and art determining what "ought to be." Although the
genuine findings of the various sciences are more objective than are those
of religion, ethics and art, they are neither entirely nor always so.
Likewise, although religion, art and science are more subjective than the
sciences, this is neither completely nor permanently the case. They differ in their mixes of the
two; nevertheless, ventures on both sides of the
"is/ought divide" engage in a fair amount of discovering and
determining.
Near the end of his book, when reviewing
recent attempts to integrate the legitimate findings of science and of
religion in larger harmonious wholes, Gould indulges in uncharacteristic
and unbecoming irritability. With respect to the so-called anthropic
principle, for instance, all apparently agree that the occurrence of human
life was unlikely. The question is not whether this is so but what, if
anything, we should make of it.
We cannot dismiss such questions out of
hand and are better off if we do not try. Neither can we appeal to things
in the natural world that might count against the likelihood of divine
design and purpose while booing as others cite evidence from the same
source that might suggest it. Let the discussions continue and allow the best
arguments with the most evidence win!
It is possible to place too much emphasis upon
the idea that religion and science are different but equally valuable
domains. Gerald R. Winslow, the Dean of the Faculty of Religion at
Loma Linda University, and I once shared a meal at a pleasant restaurant
with an influential scholar from another campus whom we had invited to
speak at ours. Because he said such contradictory things while we enjoyed
our dinner together, we eventually asked him whether he detected any
tension between his beliefs as a religious believer and his convictions as
a medical scientist and philosopher. "Oh no!" he exclaimed,
"I live in two completely different universes!"
Thankfully, Stephen Jay Gould lives in one
universe, not two. But within his one universe there are different spheres
of inquiry, each with its own rules of evidence and reasoning. This makes
taking his guided tour enjoyable and informative. One final question,
however: if religion and science are like separate rooms, what is the
house? |