Authors: Michael Shermer
Tags: #Creative Ability, #Parapsychology, #Psychology, #Epistemology, #Philosophy & Social Aspects, #Science, #Philosophy, #Creative ability in science, #Skepticism, #Truthfulness and falsehood, #Pseudoscience, #Body; Mind & Spirit, #Belief and doubt, #General, #Parapsychology and science
So matters stood for over thirty years, until October 4, 1957, when the Soviet Union launched Sputnik I, the first orbiting artificial satellite, thereby announcing to America that, unlike political secrets, nature's secrets cannot be concealed—no nation can hold a monopoly on the laws of nature. The Sputnik scare prompted a renaissance in American science education, during which evolution worked its way back into the mainstream of public education. In 1961, the National Science Foundation, in conjunction with the Biological Science Curriculum Study, outlined a basic program for teaching the theory of evolution and published a series of biology books in which the organizing principle was evolution.
Equal Time for Genesis and Darwin
The next generation of fundamentalists and biblical literalists responded with a new approach. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, they demanded equal time for the Genesis story and the theory of evolution, and insisted that evolution was "only" a theory, not a fact, and should be designated as such. The flash point for this new fire was the 1961 publication of John Whitcomb and Henry Morris's
The Genesis Flood: The Biblical Record and Its Scientific Implications.
Whitcomb and Morris were not interested in the origins of species, as the authors themselves explained: "The geologic record may provide much valuable information concerning earth history subsequent to the finished Creation . . . but it can give no information as to the processes or sequences employed by God during the Creation, since God has plainly said that those processes no longer operate" (p. 224). The book presented classic Flood geology in a new light, and it was promoted by new creationist organizations, like the Creation Research Society, founded in 1963. These organizations helped push through creationist legislation. For example, in 1963 the state senate of Tennessee passed by a vote of 69 to 16 a bill that required all textbooks to carry a disclaimer that any idea about "the origin and creation of man and his world ... is not represented to be scientific fact" (in Bennetta 1986, p. 21). The Bible, designated as a reference book instead of a textbook, was exempt from the disclaimer.
The bill was appealed by the National Association of Biology Teachers on First Amendment arguments. At about the same time, Susan Epperson, a high school biology teacher in Little Rock, Arkansas, filed suit against the state on the grounds that an antievolution bill passed in 1929 violated her rights to free speech. She won, but the case was overturned by the Arkansas Supreme Court in 1967 and later appealed to the U.S. Supreme Court. In 1967, Tennessee repealed its antievolution law, and in 1968, the U.S. Supreme Court found Epperson in the right. The Court viewed the 1929 Arkansas law as "an attempt to blot out a particular theory because of its supposed conflict with the biblical account" (in Cowen 1986, p. 9) and interpreted it as an attempt to establish a religious position in a public classroom. On the basis of the Establishment Clause, the Arkansas law was overturned and the Court ruled all such antievolution laws unconstitutional. This series of legal contingencies led directly to a third course of action on the part of the creationists.
Equal Time for Creation-Science and Evolution-Science
If evolution could not be excluded from the classroom, and if the teaching of religious tenets was unconstitutional, creationists needed a new strategy to gain access to public school classrooms. Enter "creation-science." In 1972, Henry Morris organized the Creation-Science Research Center as an arm of the San Diego-based Christian Heritage College. Morris and his colleagues focused on the production and distribution of
Science and Creation
booklets designed for grades 1 through 8, which they managed to introduce in twenty-eight states in 1973 and 1974, along with other tracts such as Robert Kofahl's
Handy Dandy Evolution Refuter
(1977) and Kelly Segraves's
The Creation Explanation: A Scientific Alternative to Evolution
(1975). The argument was that since academic honesty calls for a balanced treatment of competing ideas, creation-science should be taught side-by-side with evolution-science. Backers made a clear distinction between biblical creationism, with its openly fundamentalist religious basis, and scientific creationism, which emphasized the nonreligious scientific evidence against evolution and in favor of creation. Throughout the late 1970s and 1980s, the Creation-Science Research Center, the Institute for Creation Research, the Bible Science Association, and other such organizations pressed state boards of education and textbook publishers to include the science of creation alongside the science of evolution. Their goal was clearly stated: "to reach the 63 million children of the United States with the scientific teaching of Biblical creationism" (in Overton 1985, p. 273).
On the legal end of this third strategy, in 1981 Act 590 was enacted, requiring "balanced treatment of creation-science and evolution-science in public schools. Its purposes were to protect academic freedom by providing student choice; to ensure freedom of religious exercise; to guarantee freedom of speech;... [and] to bar discrimination on the basis of creationist or evolutionist belief' (in Overton 1985, p. 260). According to the
California Science Teacher's Journal,
"The Statute was introduced by a Senator who hadn't written a word of it, and didn't know who had. It was debated for 15 minutes in the State Senate, there was no floor debate in the House of Representatives, and the Governor signed it without reading it" (in Cowen 1986, p. 9). Nonetheless, it was law, and a year later the state of Louisiana passed a similar bill.
The constitutionality of Act 590 was challenged on May 27, 1981, with the filing of a suit by Reverend Bill McLean and others. The case was brought to trial in Little Rock on December 7, 1981, as
McLean
v.
Arkansas.
The contestants were, on one side, established science, scholarly religion, and liberal teachers (backed by the ACLU) and, on the other, the Arkansas Board of Education and various creationists. Federal Judge William R. Overton of Arkansas ruled against the state on the following grounds: First, creation-science conveys "an inescapable religiosity" and is therefore unconstitutional. "Every theologian who testified," Overton explained, "including defense witnesses, expressed the opinion that the statement referred to a supernatural creation which was performed by God." Second, the creationists employed a "contrived dualism" that "assumes only two explanations for the origins of life and existence of man, plants and animals: It was either the work of a creator or it was not." Given this either-or paradigm, the creationists claim that any evidence "which fails to support the theory of evolution is necessarily scientific evidence in support of creationism." But, as Overton clarified, "Although the subject of origins of life is within the province of biology, the scientific community does not consider origins of life a part of evolutionary theory." Furthermore, he noted, "Evolution does not presuppose the absence of a creator or God and the plain inference conveyed by Section 4 [of Act 590] is erroneous." Finally, Overton summarized the arguments of expert witnesses (including Gould, Ayala, and Michael Ruse) that creation-science is not science, as the scientific enterprise is usually defined: "science is what is 'accepted by the scientific community' and is 'what scientists do.'" Overton then listed the "essential characteristics" of science as outlined by the expert witnesses: "(1) It is guided by natural law; (2) It has to be explanatory by reference to natural law; (3) It is testable against the empirical world; (4) Its conclusions are tentative . . . ; and (5) It is falsifiable." Overton concluded, "Creation-science . . . fails to meet these essential characteristics." Moreover, Overton noted, "Knowledge does not require the imprimatur of legislation in order to become science" (1985, pp. 280-283).
To the Supreme Court
Despite this decision, creationists continued their lobbying for equal-time laws and revised textbooks. But this top-down strategy of passing laws and pressuring textbook publishers was hampered by the outcome of the case against the Louisiana law. In 1985, the Louisiana law was struck down by summary judgment (i.e., without trial) in the Federal Court of Louisiana when U.S. District Judge Adrian Duplantier ruled in concurrence with Overton that creation-science was actually religious dogma. Judge Duplantier's decision ignored the characteristics of science, centering instead on a religious argument—that teaching creation-science requires teaching the existence of a divine creator, which is in violation of the Establishment Clause. Despite the fact that over a thousand pages dealing with the characteristics of science were filed, Judge Duplantier declined "the invitation to judge that debate" (in Thomas 1986, p. 50). The decision was appealed to the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit, where the value of that debate was argued. That court, initially with a panel of three judges and subsequently en banc with all fifteen judges voting, agreed with the district court that the statute was unconstitutional.
But when a federal court holds a state statute unconstitutional, by "mandatory jurisdiction," the U.S. Supreme Court must hear the case. And since the vote was only 8 to 7, Louisiana submitted a "jurisdictional statement," thus establishing a substantial federal question. At least four of the nine Supreme Court justices concurred that it was substantial, and by the "rule of four" agreed they would hear the case. The initial oral arguments in
Edwards
v.
Aguillard
were made on December 10, 1986, with Wendell Bird representing the appellants, and Jay Topkis and the ACLU the appellees. Bird first argued that because of some confusion about what the Louisiana statute means, "a trial, with factual development, ought to occur to enable expert witnesses on both sides to give definitions"
{Official Transcript Proceedings
1986 [hereafter
OTP],
p. 8). After lengthy discussion of the "actual" intent of the Louisiana statute, Bird pushed the "academic freedom concern"—the "rights" of students to a balanced treatment of evolution and creation (p. 14).
Using a minimalist approach, and responding to the focus of Duplantier's decision, Topkis argued that creation-science was merely religion posing as science and was therefore unconstitutional. In this instance, however, the argument failed on the grounds that if the science were valid, it should have a place in the curriculum of public school science classes, no matter what its relation to religion. The justices' historical analogies brilliantly countered Topkis's arguments. For example, Chief Justice William Rehnquist demonstrated to Topkis that it is possible to believe in the creation of life by God with no religious intent
(OTP,
pp. 3536).
Rehnquist:
My next question is going to be whether you considered Aristotelianism a religion?
Topkis:
Of course not.
Rehnquist:
Well, then, you could believe in a first cause, an unmoved mover, that may be impersonal, and has no obligation of obedience or veneration from men, and in fact, doesn't care what's happening to mankind.
Topkis:
Right.
Rehnquist:
And believe in creation.
Topkis:
Not when creation means creation by a divine creator.
Rehnquist:
And I ask you, it depends on what you mean by divine. If all you mean is a first cause, an impersonal mover—
Topkis:
Divine, Your Honor, has connotations beyond, I respectfully submit.
Rehnquist:
But the statute doesn't say "divine."
Topkis: No.
Rehnquist:
All it says is "creation."
Later in the arguments, Justice Antonin Scalia became "concerned about whether purpose alone would invalidate a State action, if a State action has a perfectly valid secular purpose," and drove home the issue with an even more enlightening historical argument about the irrelevancy of intent:
Let's assume that there is an ancient history professor in a State high school who has been teaching that the Roman Empire did not extend to the southern shore of the Mediterranean in the first century A.D. And let's assume a group of Protestants who are concerned about that fact, inasmuch as it makes it seem that the Biblical story of the crucifixion has things a bit wrong—because of that concern, and really, no other reason—I mean, this fellow's also teaching other things that are wrong. He's teaching that the Parthians came out of Egypt. They don't care about that. They do care that Romans were in Jerusalem in the first century A.D. So they go to the principal of the school, and say, this history professor is teaching what is just falsehood. I mean, everybody knows that Rome was there. And the principal says, gee, you're right. And he goes in and directs the teacher to teach that Rome was on the southern shore of the Mediterranean in the first century A.D. Clearly a religious motivation. The only reason the people were concerned about that, as opposed to the Parthians, was the fact that it contradicted their religious view. Now, would it be unconstitutional for the principal to listen to them, and on the basis of that religious motivation, to make the change in the high school? (pp. 40-41)
Justice Lewis Powell followed with still another historical example about a hypothetical school presenting "only the Protestant view of the Reformation in their medieval history classes," with Catholics demanding equal time on religious grounds. The Catholics' demands would be historically tenable, so Powell inquired whether their demands would "raise any problems." Topkis responded, "So long as the purpose of the school authorities, in taking this position, was an historical purpose rather than a religious one, I couldn't quarrel with it" (pp. 47-48).
After Powell joined Rehnquist and Scalia in questioning whether the religious motives of the appellants were sufficient to call into question the legitimacy of their claims on behalf of creation-science, it seemed that Topkis's minimalist strategy of establishing religious intent was about to backfire and that there was a real possibility that the Louisiana statute would be upheld.