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Interview with Mike Austin: Conceptions of Parenthood

We interviewed Mike Austin, an Associate Professor of Philosophy at Eastern Kentucky University, about his recent book, Conceptions of Parenthood. The book is part of Ashgate’s “Studies in Applied Ethics” series.

What do you try to accomplish in Conceptions of Parenthood?

In the book, I argue for a pluralistic understanding of the basis of parental rights and obligations. A conception of parenthood, as I define it, is an account of the grounds for the special rights and obligations of parents. The book is unique insofar as it is the only existing work that comprehensively analyzes the different views put forth by philosophers, defends a pluralistic understanding of the foundations of parenthood, and incorporates this pluralism into a stewardship conception, or meta-conception, of parenthood. I then consider implications of the stewardship view for political, social, and personal issues related to family ethics, such as the religious upbringing of children and proposals for requiring parenting licenses.

What got you interested in this important subject?

I was looking to write on something in applied ethics, and was considering topics related to bioethics when I was pointed to some of the philosophical literature on parenthood. I wanted to work on something that was both philosophically substantive but highly relevant to daily life, and the parent-child relationship fit the bill. Plus, as a parent with 3 daughters, it was of course highly relevant to my own life!

Who are some important thinkers in this discussion?

Brenda Almond’s recent book, The Fragmenting Family (Oxford University Press), is a very important work which includes a defense of a more traditional view of marriage and family. David Archard has written two important books–Children, Family, and State (Ashgate) and Children: Rights and Childhood (Routledge)–as well as several journal articles. Mary Shanley’s Making Babies, Making Families (Beacon Press) also addresses many important issues.

Briefly outline what you take to be the the main claims and objections to the different conceptions of parenting?

In the book, I reject “proprietarian views” which seek to ground parental rights in ways similar to property rights, insofar as the child is the product of the parent’s labor or self. My primary objection is that it is immoral to conceive of humans as property. I also reject “biological conceptions” because there are counterexamples to both the necessity and the sufficiency of a genetic or gestational tie to the child for the acquisition of parental rights and obligations. This does not mean that biological ties are unimportant, but rather that they are unable to generate parenthood on their own. When they appear to do so, I argue that it is the causal element that is morally relevant. I reject “best interests” accounts because they fail to adequately take into account the relevant interests of parents and the state. I defend consent and custodial relationship conceptions of parenthood, with certain qualifications. One of the most significant aspects of the book is my argument in favor of a causal conception of parenthood, which includes the claim that if you cause a child to come to exist in the relevant manner, you incur special obligations to the child. This is controversial in contemporary moral philosophy because most ethicists want to defend the view that giving consent to taking on special obligations is a requirement for incurring such obligations. This is a view I believe to be false, and in the process of defending the causal conception I explain why. I ultimately defend a stewardship conception of parenthood. That is, once one becomes a parent through consent, causation, or a custodial relationship, one should act as a steward who holds the child and the child’s life in trust for the child in the present, for the adult the child will become, and on behalf of the community as well.

You reject an “absolutist” and “quasi-absolutist” view of parental rights. Please state what these views are and briefly state your reason for this rejection.

Absolutists hold that parents have absolute control over their children’s lives, even to the point of killing them. Hobbes, Jean Bodin, and Robert Filmer are representative of such a view. The “quasi-absolutist,” as I define them, stops short of claiming that parents have the power of life or death over children, but believes that parents should always have the final say in other matters pertaining to their children. They should be able to determine the religion of their children, their form of education and moral outlook, as well as what medical care they may receive. The view I defend is that there are particular cases in which parents should not have final say, and the state should be able to intervene (e.g. serious medical issues). I also think that parents do not have the right to determine the religion of their children, though they do have the right to seek to influence their children in favor of their religion in a wide variety of ways.

What are the relevant factors pertaining to the legal and moral obligations of parents?

The foundation of the rights and obligations of parents as I describe it in the book are certain fundamental interests of parents and children, including physical and psychological well-being, intimate relationships, and the freedom to pursue that which brings meaning and satisfaction to life. I think that the state should have clear guidelines as to when intervention is justified, limited to the undermining of fundamental interests of children by parents, though the practical outworkings of this are difficult to implement in a just manner.

How do you think philosophical discussions about ethics, parenthood, and the family should proceed?

I think that we need to examine and criticize the assumptions made about human nature and social life in the more radical proposals, such as “children’s liberationism,” which states that children should have the same legal rights as adults. My view is that discussions of family ethics must be subsumed under a more general understanding of the relationship between human nature, ethics, and human fulfillment. While I am critical of views in family ethics that focus solely on the interests of children, it seems to me that many who advocate large changes in our understanding of the family or who want to abolish it fail to sufficiently consider the interests and welfare of children as well as the society they will create and inhabit in the future. Personal freedom and autonomy are important, but they are not the sole value to be accounted for in this area of inquiry. Finally, in a different but related project that I’m working on dealing with family ethics that is more explicitly Christian, I try to employ some insights related to the Trinity to family life, and consider what implications this aspect of God’s nature might have related to family life for those with Christian commitments.

Mike Austin is an associate professor of philosophy at Eastern Kentucky University in Richmond, KY. His other books include Running and Philosophy (Blackwell, 2007), Football and Philosophy (University Press of Kentucky, 2008), and Wise Stewards: Foundations of Christian Parenting (Kregel, forthcoming). He has a blog, Morality and the Good Life, which deals with issues in personal, social, and political ethics at http://arunningabout.blogspot.com

Reply to Schneider’s Review of My Christianity Today Article

I must confess that I had to catch my breath for a moment after finishing Mr. Schneider’s review of my Christianity Today cover article. Never could I have anticipated that my advocacy of natural theology should bring me into alignment with Nazism and the horrors of the Holocaust. Astonishing!

Although there is much to appreciate in Mr. Schneider’s comments, philosophers will quickly realize that when he begins to engage the theistic arguments themselves, he is out of his depth.

For example, he seriously misconstrues the argument from the fine-tuning of the universe. “Fine-tuning” does not mean “designed” (lest the inference to design become patently question-begging) but rather indicates that the fundamental constants and physical quantities appearing in nature’s laws are such that tiny deviations from their actual values would have far-reaching consequences that would render the universe life-prohibiting. The argument does not aspire to show that the universe was designed with the production of human beings as its goal, but rather that intelligent design is the best explanation for the extraordinarily precarious existence of life, whatever the telos of the universe might be. Thus, the superiority of the design hypothesis to the rival hypotheses of physical necessity and chance in no way presupposes that the purpose of the universe was human life to begin with.

Or again, in his treatment of the moral argument Mr. Schneider doesn’t seem to appreciate that his appeal to “compelling evidence in human psychology and animal behavior that moral instincts [sic; arise from?] biological mechanisms that evolved to facilitate group cooperation and kin loyalty” is, if anything, supportive of the first premiss of the argument, that If God does not exist, objective moral values and duties do not exist. Moreover, if, as he seems to think, moral values and duties are the contingent spin-offs of the evolutionary process, then his moral disapprobation of the events of the Holocaust is either inconsistent or purely subjective. Objectively speaking, the Nazis committed no moral atrocities whatsoever, a conclusion that I doubt Mr. Schneider is ready to embrace and that is in any case highly implausible.

Finally, as to cosmological arguments, Mr. Schneider complains of the gap between the conclusion of those arguments and the Heavenly Father of Christian theology. Never mind that these arguments, being the property, as I noted, of all the great monotheistic religious traditions, were never intended to demonstrate the existence of the God of Christian theology. These arguments, if successful, give us a beginningless, uncaused, timeless, spaceless, changeless, immaterial, metaphysically necessary, enormously powerful, Personal Creator of the universe — more than enough to keep the atheist awake at night! Whether this Creator is also the God revealed by Jesus of Nazareth will be a question of Christian evidences, not natural theology.

So the more interesting feature of Mr. Schneider’s review will be, not his critiques of the arguments proper, but his reflections on their cultural impact and importance.

It’s gratifying that Mr. Schneider acknowledges the reality of the renaissance in Christian philosophy and natural theology that has transpired and is ongoing in our day. He does exaggerate the extent to which the vanguards of this revolution are confined to Christian colleges and seminaries. A search of the institutions at which the natural theologians whom I listed in my article teach will show the diversity of their institutional affiliations. (I was disappointed that Mr. Schneider did not mention Philosophia Christi in his review; this shows that we in the EPS still have some ways to go in making our impact felt.) Nevertheless, in view of the “intellectual vibrancy” of atheism at the university today, he finds my tone of celebration “premature.”

I accept his admonishment; there is no room for triumphalism here. Nevertheless, those of us in the academy know how seriously Mr. Schneider errs when he takes the admitted dominance of atheism at the university as evidence that “today’s atheism is positively fueled by intellectual inquiry.” This naive assessment fails to appreciate that academics are narrowly focused in their respective areas of specialization and remain largely ignorant on subjects — especially subjects in which they have little interest — outside their chosen fields. When it comes to topics outside their areas of expertise, the opinions of great scientists, philosophers, and other academics carry no more weight than the pronouncements of a layman — indeed, on these subjects they are laymen. Mr. Schneider was more accurate when he said that atheism is all but assumed. In scores of debates with non-theistic professors over the years, I have been astonished at the incredible ignorance of admittedly brilliant scholars when it comes to matters of theology and philosophy of religion. Thus, I have frankly long since ceased to be impressed when a prominent scientist, for example, a Stephen Weinberg, inveighs against religion.

Thus Mr. Schneider misunderstands me when he says that my “bygone atheism” is a straw man. What I characterized as “bygone” was not atheism, but the past generation dominated by the sort of scientism and verificationism that still lingers in the so-called New Atheism. The fact that such popularistic drivel continues to pour forth from the presses and to fill our bookstores at the mall does nothing to refute my claim that the New Atheism is in general predicated upon epistemological assumptions that are no longer viable.

Of course, there are today brilliant philosophers writing in defense of atheism. But the New Atheists are not they. The New Atheism is not representative of the best non-theistic work being done today. I tried to be frank about what we’re up against by acknowledging in my piece that “there are now signs that the sleeping giant of atheism has been roused from his dogmatic slumbers and is fighting back. J. Howard Sobel and Graham Oppy have written large, scholarly books critical of the arguments of natural theology, and Cambridge University Press released their Companion to Atheism last year.” I hope to have accurately informed readers concerning the lay of the land today.

Finally, with respect to the cultural importance of natural theology, Mr. Schneider correctly observes that my advocacy of theistic arguments pits me not only against post-moderns but also against Barth’s neo-orthodoxy with its “Nein” to natural theology. No Barthian, I was trained under Pannenberg, who has been sharply critical of Barth’s attempt to sequester faith from the attacks of secular reason. “For much too long a time faith has been misunderstood to be subjectivity’s fortress into which Christianity could retreat from the attacks of scientific knowledge. Such a retreat into pious subjectivity can only lead to destroying any consciousness of the truth of the Christian faith.”* One has only to look at the secularism of contemporary German society and the weakness of the German state churches to see that Pannenberg’s words have proved to be prophetic. If we in the United States are to avoid Europe’s slide into secularism, then we must respond to Barth’s “Nein” to natural theology with a firm and insistent “Doch!”

This is not to endorse some sort of theological rationalism, to affirm that “we need . . . science in order to learn faith” — that would be to embrace the scientism that shapes the New Atheism. Rather as proponents of so-called Reformed Epistemology have shown, one may present arguments in support of faith without making those arguments the foundation of faith. Barth remains correct, I think, in seeing that knowledge of God is not dependent upon evidential foundations; but, as Thomas Aquinas saw, it does not follow from that insight that reason cannot discover much of what faith delivers.

I’m puzzled by Mr. Schneider’s closing question, “Why is the truth so difficult for other people to recognize, even when we proclaim it to them?” Nothing he has said leads up to this question, nor do I understand why it is “terrifying.” I should have expected him to ask at this point, “If we base faith upon scientific reason, what do we do if scientific reason leads us to moral nihilism, rendering us incapable of condemning the atrocities of Nazism?” The scientism undergirding the New Atheism does lead to such a nihilistic terminus, and the prospect is terrifying. But the natural theologian need not and should not embrace scientism.

As for Mr. Schneider’s own question, the answer, at one level, surely is that the arguments of natural theology, though cogent, are not rationally coercive, especially given people’s predispositions formed by their diverse circumstances. At another level, the answer must be, as Paul emphasizes in his treatise on natural revelation, that fallen human beings, eager to avoid God at all costs, “suppress the truth in unrighteousness” (Rom. 1:18).

* Wolfart Pannenberg, “The Revelation of God in Jesus of Nazareth,” in New Frontiers in Theology, vol. 3: Theology as History, ed. J. M. Robinson and J. B. Cobb, Jr. (New York: Harper & Row, 1967), p. 131.

Science, Philosophy and Belief

Calvin College just recently completed a four-week faculty development seminar for Chinese professors and postgraduate students, which featured lectures by Alvin Plantinga (Notre Dame, Philosophy), Owen Gingerich (Harvard, Astronomy), Richard Swinburne (Oxford, Philosophy), and John Polkinghorne (Cambridge, Physics).

Mp3 downloads of each talk are available here.

The seminar was directed by Del Ratzsch of Calvin College and Michael Murray of Franklin & Marshall College.

Antony Flew’s trenchant response to Richard Dawkins & ‘The God Delusion’

In ‘Flew Speaks Out: Professor Flew Reviews The God Delusion‘ Professor Antony Flew responds in trenchant terms to what he calls ‘that monster footnote [concerning Flew on page 82] to what I am inclined to describe as that monster book’ The God Delusion (Bantam, 2006).

According to this new article by the 85 year old ex-atheist, published July 19th 2008 by UCCF’s excellent apologetics website www.bethinking.org, Richard Dawkins is ‘a secularist bigot’.

The fault of Dawkins as an academic, says Flew: ‘was his scandalous and apparently deliberate refusal to present the doctrine which he appears to think he has refuted in its strongest form.’

Flew’s 2004 announcement that at the age of 81, after a noted professional lifetime of atheism, he had come to believe in the existence of God, really set the cat among the pigeons. Ad hominem accusations of hedging his bets with respect to an afterlife that Flew (under the influence of Gilbert Ryle) still doesn’t believe even theoretically possible were bandied about by ill-informed detractors such as British humanist’s Roy Hattersley and Richard Dawkins. Indeed, at a recent conference on the resurrection in London, Flew stated (before a mainly Christian audience) from a platform shared with Professor Gary R. Habermas and Bishop N.T. Wright, that he didn’t believe in any kind of life after death, including resurrection. Hardly the words of a man who is either hedging his bets or easily swayed by Christian friends! As Flew writes in There Is a God (Harper One, 2007): ‘I do not think of myself as surviving death. For the record, then, I want to lay to rest all those rumors that have me placing Pascalian bets.’ (p. 2.)

Indeed, Richard Dawkins slings several criticisms in Flew’s direction within a large footnotes on page 82 of The God Delusion (Bantam, 2006), none of which deal with the substance of Flew’s Deism, or the philosophical arguments that persuade him thereof. Instead, Dawkins says that in his ‘old age’ Flew, whom he depreciates as not being a ‘great philosopher’ like Bertrand Russell, has adopted belief in ‘some sort of deity’. Dawkins also attacks Flew for what he calls ‘his ignominious decision to accept, in 2006, the “Philip E. Johnson Award for Liberty and Truth’, for which he notes ‘The awarding university is BIOLA, the Bible Institute of Los Angeles. One can’t help wondering whether Flew realizes that he is being used.’

Having responded in several venues to the erroneous suggestions that his change of mind is a ‘Pascalian Wager’ in the face of death, and that his book There Is a God was basically written by rather than with help from Roy Abraham Varghese, Flew now responds directly to Dawkins. (By the way, I personally read the hand-typed article sent by Flew to a mutual contact at UCCF for publication, so I hope we can leave conspiracy theories where they belong.) Flew is clearly deeply upset with Dawkins, on both an academic and a personal level, and he doesn’t mince words, accusing him of an ‘insincerity of academic purpose.’ Dawkins ‘is not interested in the truth as such,’ laments Flew, ‘but is primarily concerned to discredit an ideological opponent by any available means.’

On receiving the Philip E. Johnson award, Flew notes that: ‘Dawkins obviously assumes (but refrains from actually saying) that [being a specifically Christian institution] is incompatible with producing first class academic work in every department…’ Moreover, as to the suggestion that he was ‘used’ by Biola, Flew clearly doesn’t think the accusation worth dignifying: ‘If the way I was welcomed by the students and members of faculty whom I met in my short stay at Biola amounted to being used then I can only express my regret that at the age of 85 I cannot reasonably hope for another visit to this institution.’

Recommended Reading

Antony Flew with Roy Abraham Varghese, There Is a God (Harper One, 2007)

Antony Flew, ‘Flew Speaks Out: Professor Flew Reviews The God Delusion

Gary R. Habermas & Antony Flew, ‘My Prilgrimage from Atheism to Theism

Gary R. Habermas, ‘Antony Flew’s Deism Revisited

Roy Abraham Varghese, ‘Letter to the Editor, Magazine, New York Times

Benjamin Wiker, ‘Exclusive Flew Interview

Peter S. Williams, ‘A Change of Mind for Antony Flew

Response to “Gabriel’s Vision” & Its Implications for the Resurrection of Jesus

EPS leaders, Craig J. Hazen and Gary R. Habermas, have both responded to recent reports (e.g., at the NYT) about the “Gabriel Vision” tablet and whether it falsifies Christianity’s historic claim concerning Jesus’ unique resurrection from the dead.

Hazen is the founder and director of the graduate program in Christian apologetics at Biola University. His response is here.

Habermas is the Distinguished Professor and Chair of the Department of Philosophy and Theology at Liberty University. His response is here.

Both scholars agree that the news is not disturbing to the Christian claim concerning the resurrection of Jesus.

Welcome Peter Williams

We welcome Peter S. Williams as our newest web contributor to the EPS website. Among many things, Peter is a Philosophia Christi contributor, a philosophy lecturer and a researcher particularly in the areas of intelligent design and natural theology work.

You can see more of Peter here at his author profile.

Also, we have posted three of his essays:

The Design Inference from Specified Complexity Defended by Scholars Outside the Intelligent Design Movement

by Peter S. Williams (MA, MPhil)

Southampton, England

The quality of a scientific approach or opinion depends
on the strength of its factual premises and on the depth and consistency of its
reasoning, not on its appearance in a particular journal or on its popularity among
other scientists.

Stephen Jay Gould, amici curiae,
Daubert v. Merrell Dow Pharmaceuticals

According to mathematician and philosopher William A. Dembski, “given an event,
object, or structure, to convince ourselves that it is designed we need to show
that it is improbably (i.e. complex) and suitably patterned (i.e. specified).”[1]
Dembski has defended “specified complexity”-or “complex specified information” (CSI)-as
a reliable design detection criterion in numerous writings,[2]
including his peer-reviewed monograph The Design Inference.[3]
In simplified sum, a long string of random letters is complex without being specified
(that is, without conforming to an independently given pattern that we have not
simply read off the object or event in question). A short sequence of letters like
“this” or “that” is specified without being sufficiently complex to outstrip the
capacity of chance to explain this conformity (for example, letters drawn at random
from a Scrabble bag will occasionally form a short word). Neither complexity without
specificity nor specificity without complexity compels us to infer design. However,
this paper is both specified (conforming to the functional requirements of grammatical
English) and sufficiently complex (doing so at a level of complexity that
makes it unreasonable to attribute this match to luck) to trigger a design inference
on the grounds that “in all cases where we know the causal origin of . . . specified
complexity, experience has shown that intelligent design played a causal role.”[4]

As J. P. Moreland and William Lane Craig note, “The central aspect of ID theory
is the idea that the designedness of some things that are designed can be identified
as such in scientifically acceptable ways. . . . William Dembski has been the main
figure in developing this aspect of ID theory.”[5]
Hence the propositions that design can be detected via CSI, and that doing so can
be legitimately described as a scientific activity, have become foundational principles
of Intelligent Design (ID).

Leaving to one side the secondary question of whether inferring design can be
legitimately described as a scientific activity,[6]
this paper reviews the work of several scientists and philosophers outside the ID
movement, in order to demonstrate that, explicitly and implicitly, they endorse
CSI as a design detection criterion. This agreement is metaphysically bipartisan,
coming from naturalists and theists alike. This agreement also comes from hostile
witnesses, in that some of the scholars whose work I will review are actively opposed
to ID.

Independent agreement among a diverse range of scholars with different worldviews
as to the utility of CSI adds warrant to the premise that CSI is indeed a sound
criterion of design detection. And since the question of whether the design hypothesis
is true is more important than the question of whether it is scientific, such warrant
therefore focuses attention on the disputed question of whether sufficient empirical
evidence of CSI within nature exists to justify the design hypothesis.

ID is a theory advanced by a growing number of scientists and other academics
(design theorists) who believe empirical evidence within the natural world justifies
a design inference on the basis of reliable design detection criteria (such as CSI):
“As a scientific theory, ID only claims that there is empirical evidence that key
features of the universe . . . are the products of an intelligent cause.”[7]
Neither “creationism,”[8] nor natural
theology,[9] ID simply holds that

intelligent agency, as an aspect of scientific theory
making, has more explanatory power in accounting for the specified, and sometimes
irreducible complexity of some physical systems, including biological entities,
and/or the existence of the universe as a whole, than the blind forces of . . .
matter.[10]

As Marcus R. Ross explains, “ID is classified as a philosophically minimalistic
position, asserting that real design exists in nature and is empirically detectable
by the methods of science.”[11] Hence, abstracted from the debate
about whether or not ID is science, ID can be advanced as a single, logically valid
syllogism:

  • (Premise 1)    Specified complexity reliably points to intelligent
    design.
  • (Premise 2)    At least one aspect of nature exhibits specified
    complexity.
  • (Conclusion)Therefore, at least one aspect of nature reliably points to
    intelligent design.

Concerning premise 2, design theorists have proposed that intelligent design
can be inferred from several facets of nature, including cosmic fine-tuning, the
fine-tuning of our local cosmic habitat, the origin of life, irreducibly complex
biomolecular systems, and the “Cambrian Explosion.”[12] However,
my concern here is with the first premise, without which the empirical data lacks
evidential traction. Rather than drawing upon the work of its defenders within the
ID movement, I will draw attention to the fact that scientists and philosophers
outside the movement, including some who are opposed to the theory, use CSI as a
design detection criterion. These scholars can be divided into two groups: atheists
and theists. I will review each group in turn.

Three Atheists Outside the ID Movement

Massimo Pigliucci: Cosmic Fine-Tuning
and Irreducible Complexity

Massimo Pigliucci is an associate professor at the University of Tennessee in
Knoxville, where he teaches ecology and evolutionary biology.  Pigliucci has
a PhD in botany from the University of Connecticut and a PhD in philosophy from
the University of Tennessee. A self-styled “skeptic,” Pigliucci’s articles have
appeared in such publications as The Skeptic and Free Inquiry.
According to Pigliucci,

Should we conclusively determine that the probability
of existence of our universe is infinitesimally small, and should we fail to explain
why physical constants have assumed the quantities that we observe, the possibility
of a designed universe would have to be considered seriously.[13]

In discussing the fine-tuning of the cosmos, Pigliucci lays down a pretheoretic
version of Dembski’s CSI criterion, which infers design, on the basis of experience,
whenever an independent specification (for example, the set of physical constants
required by a life sustaining universe) is exhibited at sufficiently low probability.
Pigliucci and design theorists differ on whether we can infer that our universe
is indeed the product of design, but there would appear to be at least an implicit
agreement on the criteria for making such a judgement.

Pigliucci explicitly affirms that “[Michael] Behe . . . does have a point concerning
irreducible complexity. . . . irreducible complexity is indeed a hallmark of intelligent
design.”[14] Behe’s most notable presentation of irreducible complexity
(IC) is Darwin’s Black Box: The Biochemical Challenge to Evolution, where
he defined his terms as follows:

By irreducibly complex I mean a single system
composed of several well-matched, interacting parts that contribute to basic function,
wherein the removal of any one of the parts causes the system to effectively cease
functioning. An irreducibly complex system cannot be produced directly . . . by
slight, successive modifications of a precursor system, because any precursor to
an irreducibly complex system that is missing a part is by definition non-functional.[15]

Dembski points out that IC systems are a concrete example of specified complexity:

The irreducibly complex systems Behe considers require
numerous components specifically adapted to each other and each necessary for function.
On any formal complexity-theoretic analysis, they are complex in the sense required
by the complexity-specification criterion. Moreover, in virtue of their function,
these systems embody patterns independent of the actual living systems. Hence these
systems are also specified in the sense required by the complexity-specification
criterion.[16]

Charles Darwin argued that the existence of a single IC system would falsify
his evolutionary hypothesis: “If it could be demonstrated that any complex organ
existed which could not possibly have been formed by numerous, successive modifications,
my theory would absolutely break down.”[17] Darwin made the universal
negative bet that no such system would be discovered and his contemporary followers,
like Pigliucci, make the same bet.[18] By definition, any system
that is IC cannot have evolved directly by a series of incremental evolutionary
improvements. Ruling out direct, incremental evolution does not exclude what Darwin
called “a sudden leap,” but as Richard Dawkins notes, “The larger the leap through
genetic space, the lower the probability that the resulting change will be viable,
let alone an improvement.”[19] Behe observes that

Even if a system is irreducibly complex (and thus cannot
have been produced directly) . . . one can not definitely rule out the possibility
of an indirect, circuitous route. As the complexity of an interacting system increases,
though, the likelihood of such an indirect route drops precipitously. . . .[20]

Behe argues that at the biomolecular level of life (an unknown “black box” in
Darwin’s day) there are several IC systems that are highly unlikely to have been
formed by numerous, successive (unguided) indirect modifications, “including aspects
of protein transport, blood clotting, closed circular DNA, electron transport, the
bacterial flagellum, telomeres, photosynthesis, transcription regulation, and much
more.”[21] Given that IC systems are resistant to evolutionary
explanation, and given our everyday experience that intelligent agents regularly
produce IC systems (and other systems exhibiting CSI), Behe argues that the best
explanation of such molecular machines is intelligent design:

the onus of proof is on the one who denies the plain evidence
of the eyes. For example, a person who conjectured that the statues on Easter Island
or the images on Mount Rushmore were actually the result of unintelligent forces
would bear the substantial burden of proof the claim demanded. In those examples,
the positive evidence for design would be there for all to see in the purposeful
arrangements of parts to produce the images. Any putative evidence for the claim
that the images were actually the result of unintelligent processes (perhaps erosion
by some vague, hypothesized chaotic forces) would have to clearly show that the
postulated unintelligent process could indeed do the job. In the absence of such
a clear demonstration, any person would be rationally justified to prefer the design
explanation.[22]

If there is irreducible complexity in living organisms, then Pigliucci would
agree with Behe and Dembski that it is evidence of intelligent design: “irreducible
complexity is indeed a valid criterion to distinguish between intelligent and nonintelligent
design.”[23] However, Pigliucci thinks that “there is no evidence
so far of irreducible complexity in living organisms.”[24]

Richard Dawkins

Presidents and Safe-Cracking. Zoologist Richard Dawkins is Oxford University’s
Professor for the Public Understanding of Science. Dawkins is well-known as a vocal
atheist through his popular books and media appearances.[25] He
is also an outspoken critic of intelligent design theory.[26]

In Climbing Mount Improbable, Dawkins draws a distinction between objects
that are clearly designed and objects that are not clearly designed but superficially
look like they are-which he calls “designoid.”[27] Dawkins
illustrates the concept of being designoid with a hillside that suggests a human
profile: “Once you have been told, you can just see a slight resemblance to either
John or Robert Kennedy. But some don’t see it and it is certainly easy to believe
that the resemblance is accidental.”[28] Dawkins contrasts this
Kennedy-esque hillside with the four president’s heads carved into Mt. Rushmore
in America, which “are obviously not accidental: they have design written all over
them.”[29] Hence Dawkins admits intelligence is capable of outperforming
the design-producing resources of nature in such a way as to leave empirical indicators
of its activity.

Dawkins argues that, while “a rock can weather into the shape of a nose seen
from a certain vantage point,”[30] such a rock (for example, the
Kennedy-esque hillside) is designoid. Mt. Rushmore, on the other hand, is clearly
not designoid: “Its four heads are clearly designed.”[31]
The fact that Rushmore is designed is, according to Dawkins, empirically detectable:
“The sheer number of details [that is, the amount of complexity] in which the Mount
Rushmore faces resemble the real things [that is, the complexity fits four specifications]
is too great to have come about by chance.”[32] In terms of mere
possibility, says Dawkins: “The weather could have done the same job. .
. . But of all the possible ways of weathering a mountain, only a tiny minority
[complexity] would be speaking likenesses of four particular human beings [specification].”[33]
Hence, “Even if we didn’t know the history of Mount Rushmore, we’d estimate the
odds against its four heads [specification] being carved by accidental weathering
as astronomically high . . . [complexity].”[34]

Again, Dawkins argues that “Of all the unique and, with hindsight equally improbable,
positions of the combination lock [complexity], only one opens the lock [specification].
. . . The uniqueness of the arrangement . . . that opens the safe, [has] nothing
to do with hindsight. It is specified in advance.”[35]
According to Dawkins, the best explanation of an open safe is not that someone got
lucky, but that someone knew the specific and complex combination
required to open it.

Directed Panspermia and “God-Like
Beings.”
Crop circles are obviously the product of design because they exhibit
CSI. Some people suggest that the source of crop-circle design is extraterrestrial.
No matter how sceptical we are about extraterrestrials, it would be irrational to
argue that because extraterrestrials do not exist, crop circles are not the product
of design (since aliens are a sufficient but not a necessary condition for crop
circles). Likewise, however sceptical someone is about the existence of God, it
would be irrational to argue that since God does not exist, nothing in nature is
the product of design (since God is a sufficient but not a necessary condition of
intelligent design in nature). The scientific inference to design, whether in the
case of crop circles or not, is prior to the inference to a particular designer,
and it stands or falls on its own merits. Dawkins admits as much in an article that
appeared in the secular humanist magazine Free Inquiry. In this editorial
opinion piece, Dawkins explicitly acknowledged that CSI is a valid criterion of
design detection:

“specified complexity” takes care of the sensible point
that any particular rubbish heap is improbable, with hindsight, in the unique disposition
of its parts. A pile of detached watch parts tossed in a box is, with hindsight,
as improbable as a fully functioning, genuinely complicated watch. What is specified
about a watch is that it is improbable in the specific direction of telling the
time. . . .[36]

Dawkins is clearly saying that it is the specified complexity of a watch
that warrants a design inference (mere complexity is not the issue). Dawkins admits
that “Behe and Dembski correctly pose the problem of specified complexity as something
that needs explaining,”[37] and he even allows that “Design is
the temporarily correct explanation for some particular manifestations of specified
complexity such as a car or a washing machine.”[38] Here we begin
to see Dawkins’s philosophical commitment to naturalism affecting his conclusions:
“sooner or later, in order to explain the illusion of design, we are going to have
to terminate the regress [of explanations] with something more explanatory than
design itself,”[39] says Dawkins, for “Design can never be an
ultimate explanation.”[40] Dawkins is happy to concede that intelligent
design is a legitimate and evidentially supported explanation for CSI, but his naturalistic
philosophy dictates that explaining anything in terms of intelligent design
is only ever a “temporarily correct”[41] placeholder for a nonteleological
explanation. This philosophical deduction from naturalism applies just as much to
watches and washing machines as to cosmic fine-tuning or bacterial flagella.

Of course, even in the case of design detected within the texture of nature itself
there are numerous explanatory options. Inferring intelligent design does not automatically
equate with inferring any particular designer(s). As Dawkins writes: “It could conceivably
turn out, as Francis Crick and Leslie Orgel . . . suggested, that evolution was
seeded by deliberate design, in the form of bacteria sent from a distant planet
in the nose cone of a spaceship.”[42]

Nobel laureate Francis Crick (credited as codiscoverer of the double helix structure
of DNA) and origin-of-life researcher Leslie Orgel first proposed the theory of
“directed panspermia” as a hypothesis worth considering in an article published
in Icarus.[43] Crick expanded upon the hypothesis in
his book Life Itself suggesting that an advanced alien species sent one
or more spacecraft to earth with the intent of peppering it with the necessary life
forms (or components of life) to generate a zoo of diverse species.[44]
The theory continues to attract a small number of supporters amongst origin-of-life
researchers. Dawkins’ philosophy dictates that such an explanation must ultimately
track back to a nonteleological explanation. Given the assumption that minds can
be explained naturalistically (an assumption Dawkins makes),[45]
metaphysical naturalism is logically compatible with inferring intelligent design
from nature. Perhaps, as members of the naturalistic, ID-endorsing Raelian UFO religion
believe, aliens are responsible for life on earth.[46] Perhaps
the big bang was fine-tuned to produce a life-sustaining universe by aliens in a
parallel universe. For Dawkins, the ultimate explanation of any and all CSI
must
be naturalistic:

It is easy to believe that the universe houses creatures
so far superior to us as to seem like gods. I believe it. But those godlike beings
must themselves have been lifted into existence by natural selection or some equivalent.
. . .[47]

As Dawkins says in response to the question “What do you believe is true even
though you cannot prove it?”[48]

. . . I believe that all intelligence, all creativity,
and all design anywhere in the universe is the direct or indirect product of Darwinian
natural selection. It follows that design comes late in the universe, after a period
of Darwinian evolution. Design cannot precede evolution and therefore cannot underlie
the universe.[49]

Since Dawkins explicitly accepts CSI as a reliable criterion of design detection,
and since he already believes in the existence of “godlike” extraterrestrial beings,
one would predict that were he to concede the existence of empirical evidence within
the natural world that triggers a design inference, he would likely affirm that
the intelligence in question was extraterrestrial, thereby retaining his philosophical
assumption that design inferences can only be temporarily correct explanations that
must be susceptible to a reductive, naturalistic explanation in the final analysis.[50]
This thought experiment demonstrates that design theorists are right when they point
out that arguing for intelligent design does not necessarily equate with arguing
for supernatural, let alone divine design. As Michael J. Behe explains:

my argument is limited to design itself; I strongly emphasize
that it is not an argument for the existence of a benevolent God, as Paley’s was.
I hasten to add that I myself do believe in a benevolent God, and I recognize that
philosophy and theology may be able to extend the argument. But a scientific argument
for design in biology does not reach that far. Thus while I argue for design, the
question of the identity of the designer is left open . . . as regards the identity
of the designer, modern ID theory happily echoes Isaac Newton’s phrase, hypothesis
non fingo
.[51]

Potential philosophical and theological disputes about the nature of the designer(s)
aside, Richard Dawkins explicitly endorses the first premise of the argument for
intelligent design.

Carl Sagan: Presidential Eggplants
and the “Face” on Mars

Carl Sagan was an American astronomer, astrobiologist, and science popularizer.
Sagan was a pioneer in exobiology, promoting the Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence
(SETI). A famous author of popular science books, Sagan also wrote the novel
Contact
, upon which the 1997 film of the same name was based. Considering that
the scientists in Contact infer the existence of extraterrestrials when
they detect a radio signal exhibiting specified complexity,[52]
it is unsurprising that Sagan implicitly endorses CSI as a design detection criterion
in his other writings.

In The Demon Haunted World, Sagan debunks a number of claims about purported
instances of design. For example:

There was a celebrated eggplant that closely resembled
Richard M. Nixon. What shall we deduce from this fact? Divine or extraterrestrial
intervention? Republican meddling in eggplant genetics? No. We recognize that there
are large numbers of eggplants in the world and that, given enough of them, sooner
or later we’ll come upon one that looks like a human face, even a very particular
human face.[53]

Notice that the suggestion of design here is based upon the fact that the eggplant
in question exhibits a specification. In this case, the specification is looking
like a human face, and more than that, looking like a particular human face (although
it is hard to believe that the resemblance can have been all that tight).
Sagan implicitly accepts that the eggplant exhibits a specification. So why does
Sagan reject the idea that the correspondence between the eggplant and the Nixon
specification is the result of design? Because the example lacks complexity. Given
the number of human faces and eggplants that have existed, Sagan argues that it
is not all that unlikely that we would come across an eggplant that bore a resemblance
to Nixon. Hence we do not have to deduce divine, or extraterrestrial, or Republican
design from the eggplant.

Sagan’s argument for rejecting a design inference from the eggplant implicitly
accepts that if the eggplant exhibited a specification at a sufficient level of
complexity, then a design inference would be justified. In other words, Sagan recognized
that a design inference is warranted when faced with an example of “specified complexity.”
This is why, in order to debunk a proposed instance of design which he admits exhibits
specification, Sagan argues that the proposed example lacks sufficient complexity.

Sagan implicitly endorses the point that while specified complexity warrants
an inference to “intelligent design,” it does not in and of itself warrant an inference
to any particular designer: “Divine or extraterrestrial intervention? Republican
meddling in eggplant genetics?”[54] All three explanations would
be possible candidates if a design inference in this case were justified.

Sagan goes on to discuss the infamous so-called face on Mars,[55]
first photographed by one of the Viking orbiters in 1976. Sagan argues against a
design inference in this instance by arguing that the “face” is neither very complex
nor tightly specified. (Pointing out that something does not exhibit CSI can only
justify the conclusion that it was not designed in concert with an application of
Ockham’s razor, since objects can be intelligently designed without exhibiting CSI.
“Specified complexity” is only a positive test for design. Arguing against a design
inference is not the same as arguing against design per se.) Sagan first
examines the complexity of the “face”:

Mars has a surface area of almost 150 million square kilometers.
Is it so astonishing that one (comparatively) postage-stamp-sized patch in 150 million
should look artificial-especially given our penchant, since infancy, for finding
faces?[56]

In other words, it is not all that unlikely that a small area of Mars
should look sufficiently like a face under certain conditions to make it appear
face-like to casual observation. Then Sagan goes after specification:

If we study the original image more carefully, we find
that a strategically placed “nostril”-one that adds much to the impression of a
face-is in fact a black dot corresponding to lost data in the radio transmission
from Mars to Earth. The best picture of the Face shows one side lit by the Sun,
the other in deep shadow. Using the original digital data, we can severely enhance
the contrast in the shadows. When we do, we find something rather unfacelike there.
The Face is at best half a face. . . . the Martian sphinx looks natural-not
artificial, not a dead ringer for a human face
.[57]

While at first glance the “face” seems to exhibit a specification, a closer look
shows that it does not. In Richard Dawkins’ terminology, the supposed face on Mars
is “designoid”; it gives a superficial impression of design at first glance, but
the more we investigate its salient features, the less designed it looks. Hence
Sagan concludes, “It was probably sculpted by slow geological processes over millions
of years.”[58] The important point here is that in order to justify
this conclusion Sagan seeks to undermine precisely those twin features that Dembski
argues are as jointly sufficient conditions for justifying a design inference, namely,
complexity and specification. If Sagan is right to argue that the “face” does not
justify a design inference because it fails to exhibit specified complexity (indeed,
because it is neither sufficiently complex nor tightly specified) then design theorists
must be right to argue that anything which doesexhibit specified complexity
should
be attributed to intelligent design. For example, Sagan would not argue
that slow geological processes sculpted the presidential faces on Mount Rushmore,
because unlike the “face” on Mars, Mount Rushmore does exhibit specified complexity.

Although he does not use the terminology of “specified complexity,” Sagan clearly
endorses specified complexity as an adequate criterion of design detection, because
he argues that design inferences cannot be supported if the putative designed object
lacks sufficient complexity, fails to exhibit a specification, or both. This negative
argument implies the positive argument that when a putative designed object does
exhibit CSI, a design inference is thereby warranted.

Four Theists Outside the ID Movement

Keith Ward: Abiogenesis and Improbable Processes Structured
to a Good End

Keith Ward is the Regius Professor of Divinity and head of the Faculty of Theology
at the University of Oxford, and is a fellow of the British Academy. Ward contributed
to the “Theistic Evolution” section of the Cambridge University volume Debating
Design: From Darwin to DNA
, which was coedited by Michael Ruse and William
A. Dembski.

In God, Faith, and The New Millennium, Ward takes stock of the implications
of the improbability of abiogenesis:

It seems hugely improbable that, in the primeval seas
of the planet earth, amino acids should meet and combine to form large molecular
structures capable of self-replication. . . . The motive for positing some sort
of intelligent design is almost overwhelming.[59]

Ward references a specification (being “capable of self-replication”) and argues
that the case for positing “intelligent design” is “almost overwhelming” because
the structures exhibiting this specification are complex (“hugely improbable”).
Ward goes on to argue that:

if one is asking . . . whether a very improbable process
is compatible with intelligent design, the answer is that if the process is elegantly
structured to a good end, then the more improbable the process, the more likely
it is to be the product of intelligent design.[60]

Ward is clearly not arguing for the mere compatibility of very improbable
processes with intelligent design; rather, he is arguing that very improbable processes
warrant explanation in terms of intelligent design when they are also specified.[61]

Ward does (unnecessarily in my view) restrict what ID theorists would term a
specification to the elegant achievement of a good end; but this is neither here
nor there with respect to the observation that Ward argues for intelligent design
by advancing the claim that nature exhibits non-ad hoc patterns at low
probability and that the combination of the right sort of pattern (specifications)
with sufficient improbability (complexity) warrants a design inference. That is,
although Ward does not argue that his design inference is scientific, he is otherwise
at least in the same ballpark as Dembski as regards the methodology of design detection.

Colin J. Humphreys: The “Guiding Hand” of Exodus

Colin Humphreys is the Goldsmiths’ Professor of Materials Science at Cambridge
University, and a vice president of Christians in Science. In The Miracles of
Exodus: A Scientist’s Discovery of the Extraordinary Natural Causes of the Biblical
Stories
, Humphreys argues that the Exodus account in the Bible is factually
accurate “down to points of tiny detail”[62] and that modern science
can “explain every miracle in the Exodus story.”[63] However,
Humphreys concludes by asking:

Is there any evidence of a “guiding hand” in the events
of the Exodus? What I’ve found is that the Exodus story describes a series of natural
events like earthquakes, volcanoes, hail, and strong winds occurring time after
time at precisely the right moment for the deliverance of Moses and the Israelites.
Any one of these events occurring at the right time could be ascribed to lucky chance.
When a whole series of events happens at just the right moment, then it is either
incredibly lucky chance or else there is a God who works in, with, and through natural
events to guide the affairs and the destinies of individuals and of nations. Which
belief is correct: Chance or God? I’m not going to answer that question for you;
you must answer it yourself.[64]

It is clear that Humphrey’s himself would answer his question by saying that
there is indeed evidence of a “guiding hand” in the events of the Exodus, because
the specification of the Israelites being delivered from slavery in Egypt and into
the “promised land” was exhibited by a series of events with a very high level of
compound complexity.[65]

Denis Alexander: The Anthropic Teleological Argument

Denis Alexander is head of the T Cell Laboratory, the Babraham Institute, Cambridge.
He is also director of the Faraday Institute for Science and Religion at St. Edmund’s
College, Cambridge, and editor of the journal Science and Christian Belief.
Dr. Alexander is a theistic evolutionist vigorously opposed to ID.[66]

In Rebuilding the Matrix, Alexander observes that the search for extraterrestrial
intelligence “is based on the assumption that a single message from space will reveal
the existence of intelligent life elsewhere in the universe.”[67]
He quotes Norman L. Geisler that “even if the object of pursuit is the reception
of only one message, nevertheless, the basis of knowing that it was produced by
intelligence is the regular conjunction of intelligent beings with this kind of
complex information.”[68] Although Alexander does not make it
explicit, the “kind of complex information” Geisler is talking about in this passage
is complex specified information.[69]

Alexander has earlier argued for design on the basis of the fine-tuning of cosmic
constants:

we have argued that the universe has some very unusual
properties that render conscious life possible-and that those properties are not
unusual because we observe them but because the physical constants that make them
unusual could, presumably, have been otherwise.[70]

Alexander’s anthropic-teleological argument is based upon the existence of “unusual
properties,” that is, an unlikely or complex set of physical properties, that are
specified as the set of properties (or one of a small number of such sets) “that
render conscious life possible.” While Alexander does not use the terminology
of CSI, his argument nevertheless uses CSI by appealing to the combination of complexity
(“unusual properties”) with a specification (“that render conscious life possible”).

Alexander’s reliance upon CSI is emphasized by the fact that he quotes design-theorist
William Lane Craig in defence of the argument from fine-tuning: “we should be surprised
that we do observe basic features of the universe which individually or collectively
are excessively improbable [complexity] and are necessary conditions of our own
existence [specification].”[71]

Alexander paints two scenarios to push home the point that one cannot sidestep
this argument by noting that we would not exist to be surprised by fine-tuning if
that tuning were not as fine as it is. The first story involves a kidnapped accountant
told that unless he wins the national lottery for ten consecutive weeks he will
be killed, who is surprised to survive (at odds of around 1 in 1060),
but who is told that “he should not be surprised that such an unlikely event happened
for, had it not, he would not have been alive to observe it.”[72]
Clearly, the accountant is right to be surprised and to suspect that there must
be an explanation for his survival. The second story concerns a gambler who will
be killed unless he gets ten coins flips in a row to show heads: “the fact of the
gambler still being alive does not explain why he got ten heads in a row-the probability
of this unlikely event remains at one in 1,024. What requires explanation is not
that the gambler is alive and therefore observing something but rather that he is
not dead.”[73] Indeed, what requires explanation, in both stories,
is the occurrence of unlikely (that is, complex) events that are specified as the
necessary conditions of our observers not being killed. Likewise, in the case of
the anthropic-teleological argument, what requires explanation is that “our finely
tuned universe is not just any old �something,’ but contains within it a planet
full of people who postulate theories about cosmology and the meaning of the universe.
. . .”[74] That is, an explanation of fine tuning, indeed
an explanation in terms of design
, is required not simply because the fine-tuning
represents an unlikely(complex) set of constants, but because the particular unlikely
constants that exist are specified as necessary preconditions for the existence
of complex life:

The data pointing to a series of remarkably finely tuned
constants [complexity] which have promoted the emergence of conscious life [specification]
sit more comfortably with the idea of a God with plans and purposes for the universe
than they do with the atheistic presupposition that “it just happened.”[75]

Alexander implicitly deploys CSI as an argument for the conclusion that the data
of cosmic fine-tuning does demand an explanation rather than an evasion. Alexander
also implicitly uses CSI as a basis for inferring that the best explanation of cosmic
fine-tuning is intelligent design; for the reason that the specified complexity
of cosmic fine-tuning “sits more comfortably with the idea of a God with plans and
purposes for the universe than they do with the atheistic presupposition that �it
just happened'”[76] is surely “the regular conjunction of intelligent
beings with this kind of complex information.”[77]

In a lecture presented by Christians in Science at Southampton University, Alexander
made it clear that he has “no problem with the language of design so long as it’s
kept to the big picture design which makes science possible [and which is seen in]
the anthropic structure of the universe.”[78] Just as Phillip
E. Johnson has asked Darwinists, “What should we do if empirical evidence and materialist
philosophy are going in different directions?”[79] so I would
ask Alexander what he would do if empirical evidence which triggers a design inference
according to the same criteria that he applies to “the big picture” of anthropic
fine-tuning were to be found within any of the smaller details of that picture?
Which should we deny, the empirical evidence, the design-detection criteria which
he applies to cosmic fine-tuning, or his objection to invoking the language of design
at that level?

Alexander’s objection to using “the language of design,” except in the case of
“the anthropic structure of the universe,” either rests upon the confusion of intelligent
design with supernatural design and the questionable assumption that the latter
cannot enter into scientific theorizing;[80] or else (if such
a confusion is not made) it implies either the excommunication from science of numerous
established scientific fields (for example, SETI, which Alexander himself references),
or an apparent double standard which admits the scientific validity of intelligent
design in some scientific fields (for example, cosmology) but not in others (for
example, molecular-biology).

Basil Mitchell: Telekinesis and Disembodied Agency

In the course of defending the coherence of talking about incorporeal agency
in The Justification of Religious Belief, Basil Mitchell (then Nolloth
Professor of the Philosophy of the Christian Religion and Fellow of Oriel College
Oxford) has this to say on the subject of telekinesis (the alleged power to alter
events, such as the fall of dice, by simply “willing”):

Whether or not telekinesis actually occurs, it does not
seem difficult to specify the conditions under which we should be prepared to admit
its occurrence. If the dice were to fall with a certain number upwards whenever
a particular individual was asked to bring it about and not otherwise, we should
conclude that he had the power to cause physical changes without bodily movement.
Bodily movement on the part of the agent is normally a reliable guide as to whether
an occurrence is an action or not, and, if so, whose; but we could, in principle,
settle both questions without recourse to this criterion, if the other indications
were clear enough. What are these? A combination of the following: (i) The unlikelihood
of the event’s occurrence apart from the intervention of some agent. (ii) The event’s
contributing to some purpose. (iii) The agreement of that purpose with the independently
known character and purposes of the putative agent.[81]

(Note that Mitchell is arguing that intelligent design can in principle be detected
even if it is not implemented by bodily agency.) Mitchell’s design detection criterion
has more parts than Dembski’s, but then it attempts to do more, because it attempts
to provide a criterion whereby we can detect not only that “an occurrence is an
action” but also “whose” action it is. Mitchell’s criterion for detecting intelligent
design per se appears to be similar to Dembski’s.

Mitchell says that whether an occurrence such as the falling of dice is an action
(that is, is the result of intelligent design) can be answered positively if two
conditions are met-and those conditions are sufficient complexity (“The unlikelihood
of the event’s occurrence apart from the intervention of some agent”) combined with
an independent specification (“specify the conditions under which we should be prepared
to admit its occurrence”; “If the dice were to fall with a certain number upwards
whenever a particular individual was asked to bring it about and not otherwise”;
“The event’s contributing to some purpose”). Knowledge concerning “The agreement
of that purpose with the independently known character and purposes of the putative
agent,” while helpful in pinning a designed event on a specific agent, is clearly
not necessary for Mitchell’s design inference per se. This shows once again
that, as Dembski asserts, “detecting design . . . does not implicate any particular
intelligence.”[82]

Suppose paranormal investigators set up some rigorous scientific experiments
into telekinesis (would critics of ID condemn such experiments as nonscientific
in principle?[83]) and the dice do indeed “fall with a certain
number upwards whenever a particular individual was asked to bring it about and
not otherwise.” Suppose the specified complexity of this result exceeded Dembski’s
universal probability bound (something Mitchell does not bother calculating): While
we should conclude that the best explanation for this result is intelligent design,
we could not implicate our test subject on the basis of CSI alone. Any agent with
the requisite causal power might have caused the result we detected. To settle on
attributing the exercise of telekinetic powers in this instance to our test subject
(rather than to God, or a god, or a ghost, or a demon, or an angel, or another human
or alien with telekinetic powers who is trying to dupe our researchers into thinking
that their test subject has telekinetic powers when they do not) our scientists
must appeal to criteria beyond CSI. Mitchell’s “agreement of that purpose
with the independently known character and purposes of the putative agent” might
be useful here; but one imagines that Ockham’s razor should feature fairly heavily
in such deliberations.

Unlike contemporary ID theorists, Basil Mitchell did not clearly distinguish
between criteria for inferring design and criteria for inferring the responsibility
of putative designers. Mitchell also left his design detection criterion in a fairly
pretheoretic state (simply suggesting the combination of low probability with a
specification) without the context of information theory and universal probability
bounds deployed by Dembski; and perhaps for these reasons, Mitchell never made much
of his criterion. Nevertheless, it seems clear that Mitchell was thinking along
the same lines as Dembski.

Conclusions

William A. Dembski claims to have formalized (one of) the intuitive design detection
tools of humanity. Confidence in the truth of this claim, and in the claim that
CSI is a reliable criterion of design detection, is bolstered by the fact that academics
outside the ID movement (irrespective of their worldview, and sometimes despite
their own negative assessment of ID) explicitly or implicitly employ (pretheoretic
versions of) the CSI criterion when arguing for (and against) design inferences.

Moreover, the greater the number of scholars who independently arrive at the
same answer to a problem, the more confident we tend to be about the truth of their
answer. Hence, discovering CSI used to solve the problem of justifying and repudiating
design inferences in the work of a diverse group of scholars outside the ID movement
(including several “hostile witnesses” opposed to ID) justifies some confidence
in the first premise of ID.

Since the conclusion of intelligent design follows logically if we add a premise
affirming the existence of sufficient relevant empirical evidence (even if in only
one field of inquiry), the truth of such a second premise would therefore seem to
be the crucial issue between supporters and detractors of the claim that intelligent
design theory can be advanced as a sound argument. And if ID is acknowledged to
be advancing a sound argument, advocates of the definitional, “it’s not science”
critique of ID will either have to eat their proverbial hats, or else endorse transferring
assets from university science departments to philosophy departments in the interests
of furthering our understanding of physical reality.

For references to this article, click here.

A Rough Guide to Creation & Evolution

A Rough Guide to Creation & Evolution

Peter S. Williams (MA, MPhil)

Whether or not there is an objective purpose to life obviously depends upon
whether or not life was created for a purpose. You can’t get purpose without
a purposer. It’s impossible to entertain the question of whether life might
be created for a purpose without raising the question of how a belief in creation
relates to scientific attempts to understand origins – and especially how a
belief in creation relates to the theory of evolution. A wise man once said
that “the best way to approach a problem of any kind is usually not to talk
or even think very much about the ultimate answer until I have made sure that
I am asking all the right questions in the right order.”
1
So I’m not offering a definitive answer to the question of Creation
and Evolution. Instead, I’m going to provide a “rough guide” to the subject,
some advice about mistakes to avoid, and some suggestions about asking the right
questions in the right order.

My first piece of advice is to start at the very beginning, with just the
first five words of Genesis: “In the beginning, God created…” If
you need more words to get your teeth into, go to John 1:1-3: “In the beginning
was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God
in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was
made that has been made.” “Word” is a translation of the Greek term Logos,
from which we get the word logic. Logos is equivalent to what scientists
like Stephen Hawking mean when they talk about “knowing the Mind of God”. The
belief that Logos came first, that Mind created Matter, is the
fundamental theistic claim about creation, and this is the place to
start when considering the relationship between Creation and Evolution.

It’s important to keep in mind the distinction between the doctrine
of Creation, which is something all Christians hold in common, and different
pictures of creation that Christians hold because they have different
interpretations of Genesis. As Phillip Johnson reminds us: “The essential point
of creation has nothing to do with the timing or the mechanism the Creator chose
to employ, but with the element of design or purpose. In the broadest sense,
a “creationist” is simply a person who believes that the world (and especially
mankind) was designed, and exists for a purpose.”
2
The place to start thinking about Creation and evolution is with the
doctrine of Creation, because once you’ve worked that out, you are
in a better position to evaluate different Christian pictures of Creation.
In other words, your first question should be:

Question One: “Is the doctrine of Creation true?”

Plato noted that “all things do become, have become and will become, some
by nature, some by art, and some by chance” (The Laws, book X), and
he argued that either Mind comes before matter (and the world is basically a
work of art), or matter comes before mind (and the world is purely the result
of chance and natural regularities). The doctrine of Creation says that Mind
came before matter – the cosmos is a creation, a work of art. To be an atheist,
on the other hand, means being committed to a “matter first” view of things
– the cosmos is not a work of art, and everything must, therefore,
be the result of nothing but natural regularities and chance. Darwin’s theory
of evolution is an explanation of biological reality in terms of a finely balanced
combination of natural regularities and chance working over long periods of
time. You can see that for atheism, evolution is not so much the result of an
objective assessment of the evidence as it is a necessary assumption brought
to its interpretation. Geneticist Richard Lewontin has let this cat out of the
bag:

We take the side of science in spite of the patent absurdity of some of its
constructs… in spite of the tolerance of the scientific community for unsubstantiated
just-so stories, because we have a prior commitment to materialism. It is not
that the methods. . . of science somehow compel us to accept a material explanation
of the. . . world, but, on the contrary, that we are forced by our… adherence
to material causes to create . . . a set of concepts that produce material explanations,
no matter how counterintuitive, no matter how mystifying…
3

“Moreover”, says Lewontin, “that materialism is absolute, for we cannot
allow a Divine foot in the door
…” 4
Lewontin’s rejection of the doctrine of Creation has nothing to do with science
and everything to do with his faith in materialism.

Richard Dawkins, Oxford University’s professor of the public understanding
of science, is quick to dismiss religious belief. He calls anyone advocating
a creator God ‘scientifically illiterate”.
5
Dawkins” most famous book is The Blind Watchmaker, the title
of which comes from William Paley’s design argument from the similarities between
the complex workings of a watch, which we know has a designer, and the complex
workings of nature, which by analogy probably have a designer too. Dawkins admits
that living things are analogous to watches, and that they appear to be designed.
He even defines biology as “the study of complicated things that give the appearance
of having been designed for a purpose.” 6
Why is Dawkins so confident that design in living things is only apparent? Because,
although the subtitle of The Blind Watchmaker is “Why the evidence
of evolution reveals a world without design”, Dawkins “excludes design on philosophical
grounds.” 7 “The kind of explanation we
come up with”, says Dawkins, “must not contradict the laws of physics. Indeed
it will make use of the laws of physics, and nothing more than the laws
of physics
.” 8 Here, as philosopher
William Dembski notes: “we are dealing with a naturalistic metaphysic that shapes
and controls what theories of biological origins are permitted on the playing
field in advance of any discussion or weighing of evidence.”
9
To approach biology without Dawkins” atheistic assumption doesn’t mean
ruling out evolution as an adequate, or even the best available, scientific
account of biology; but it does mean letting the evidence speak for itself.

Dawkins fudges the issue here. According to him, Paley was right about the
complexity of nature, but wrong about its explanation: “The only thing he got
wrong – admittedly quite a big thing – was the explanation itself. He gave the
traditional religious answer. . . The true explanation is utterly different,
and it had to wait for one of the most revolutionary thinkers of all time, Charles
Darwin.” 10 It’s crucial to realize that
Dawkins has just “pulled a fast one”. He has just implied that either
Paley was right to argue that nature is a work of art, or Darwin was
right to argue that biological organisms are the result of nature and chance.
But of course, this is a false dilemma. It’s possible that Paley and Darwin
are both right. The theist, no less than the atheist, can acknowledge the existence
of a “blind watchmaker”, simply by attributing that “blind watchmaker” itself
to God’s design!

Dawkins thinks that “Darwin made it possible to be an intellectually fulfilled
atheist.” 11 Before Darwin was that there
was no naturalistic candidate for an explanation to fill in the blank labelled
blind watchmaker”. Evolution fills that blank. However, Dawkins is
wrong to think that evolution undermines Paley’s watchmaker argument, contradicts
belief in the doctrine of Creation, or supports atheism. Darwin’s theory may
fill in a blank created by the assumption of atheism, but that doesn’t prove
atheism (or evolution). Father Christmas may fill in a blank left by the assumption
that “parents don’t deliver Christmas presents”, but that hardly proves the
existence of Father Christmas!

The theory of evolution does not “reveal a world without design”
as Dawkins claims, because science is incapable of doing any such thing. Why
is the coffee getting hot? Scientific answer: because the flow of electrons
through the element in the kettle is causing the water molecules to vibrate.
But why is this happening? Because I want my coffee hot! This is an
explanation in terms of design and purpose, and it doesn’t conflict with the
scientific explanation. You don’t have to choose one explanation over the other.

Moreover, the fact that we can give a scientific description of the physical
mechanism of a kettle doesn’t disprove the existence of a kettle designer! Similarly,
a scientific description of a physical mechanism that results in living organisms
would not disprove the existence of a designer of that system. Science doesn’t
“reveal” a world without design, atheism demands a world without design.
The theory of evolution is irrelevant to the doctrine of Creation. As philosopher
Keith Ward says: “The argument that the evolutionary process is incompatible
with design misses the mark completely.” 12
I suggest that the next question on your agenda therefore ought to be:

Question Two: “If we don’t assume that matter came before mind, is
evolution an adequate explanation given all the available scientific evidence,
or is there a better explanation?”

Someone who believes in Creation can afford to be much more
open-minded about evolution than the atheist can be. As philosopher Alvin Plantinga
writes:

a Christian (naturally) believes that there is such a person as God, and
believes that God has created and sustains the world. Starting from this position…
we recognize that there are many ways in which God could have created the living
things he has in fact created: how, in fact, did he do it? …Did it all happen
just by way of the working of the laws of physics, or was there further divine
activity..? That’s the question… Starting from the belief in God, we must
look at the evidence and consider the probabilities as best we can.
13

Question two is an interesting and important question – but it isn’t a crucial
question for everyone to answer. You could quite happily be a Christian, or
become a Christian, without having an answer to this question.

Evolution may be a wholly adequate theory, a partially adequate theory, or
an inadequate theory, but the right way to find out – whether you believe in
the doctrine of creation or not – is to let the evidence speak for itself without
support from the assumption that the natural world must be able to
account for itself.

If you have decided your answers to our first two questions, you are now
in a good position to ask a third question:

Question Three: “Which picture of Creation is the most plausible one?”

This is an interesting and important question – but it isn’t a crucial question
for everyone to answer. You could quite happily be a Christian, or become a
Christian, without having an answer to this question. Christians certainly shouldn’t
elevate belief in any particular picture of Creation into anything more than
the peripheral issue that it is.

If you do pursue this question, there is no shortage of interpretations
you could adopt. In-between the extremes of a completely literal “young-earth”
creationism and an essentially non-literal creationism (often associated
with “theistic evolution”, but compatible with other theories), you might adopt
an essentially literal “old-earth” or “progressive” creationist interpretation.
But as Professor J.P. Moreland warns: “there are sufficient problems in interpreting
Genesis 1 and 2 to warrant caution in dogmatically holding that only one understanding
is allowable by the text.” 14

Giving a responsible (but non-dogmatic) answer to our third question involves
asking a whole bunch of subsidiary questions. As theologian David Winter explains:
“The phrase “The Bible says . . .” begs a lot of questions . . . What does
the Bible say? To whom is it saying it? What is the context, background and
literary form of the passage in question? Is it to be taken literally, or figuratively,
or allegorically?” 15 With Alvin Plantinga
I will merely say: “the proper understanding of the early chapters of Genesis
is a difficult area, an area where I am not sure where the truth lies.”
16
What I am sure of is that there can’t be any conflict between
God’s Word and God’s World, although there can be conflicts between incorrect
human understandings of Gods Word and God’s World. As Charles Hodge warned:
“Theologians are not infallible in the interpretation of Scripture.”
17
Nor are scientists infallible when they think about nature.

For anyone who believes in the doctrine of Creation, the fundamental question
is not “what is the best scientific account of reality” (let alone
“what is the best naturalistic account of reality”) but “what is
the best account of reality given everything we know?” This only seems
odd on the assumption that, as Richard Lewontin asserts, ‘science is the only
begetter of truth.” But of course, the claim that ‘science is the only begetter
of truth” isn’t something that science can establish as being true!
It’s a philosophical claim, and a self-contradictory one at that; in which case,
there must be more truth than can be known through science, and Christians are
right to seek to understand reality by employing what we think we know from
thinking about God’s Word as well as what we think we know from thinking about
God’s World. Our picture of creation (as distinct from the doctrine
of creation) is not the best place to start this project of integration, but
it shouldn’t be excluded from the process. To do so would be like a
jury deciding a murder case purely on the basis of the forensic evidence, without
taking into account the testimony of witnesses: “we cannot… pursue theology
without bringing to that study all that we know about the world, nor can we…
pursue science without bringing to that study all that we know about God”
18

Conclusion

Let’s go back to the beginning: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word
was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through
him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.”
(John 1:1-3) This is the Christian doctrine of Creation: we are here
for a reason, life does have an objective purpose because – through
whatever means – God created us for a reason. But John goes on to tell us that:
“The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory,
the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.”
(John 1:14) Whatever you make of the scientific merits of the theory of evolution,
and whatever you make of the relative merits of different pictures
of Creation, so long as the doctrine of Creation is true, then John
1:14 might be true as well. “Is it true that “the Word became flesh and made
his dwelling among us… full of grace and truth”?” is a question that trumps
all the other questions we’ve asked, because if it is true, it’s a truth that
dwarfs every other truth and which can change your life forever. Why? Because
it would mean that our purposer has personally come to us to tell us exactly
what the meaning and purpose of life is and to help us embrace it:
“I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” (John 10:10)

For references to this article, click here.