I. Introduction:
J. P. Moreland has chided Christians for what he considers to be their failure to understand the proper integration of their faith with the natural sciences. In response, Moreland, with Stephen C. Meyer and William A. Dembski, proposes an alternative and distinctively christian approach to the sciences. The central idea behind his proposal holds that, since the Christian knows that God occasionally directly interacts with the natural created order, a christian scientist can, and should, specifically include that belief into scientific accounts, thus transforming an attenuated Ònatural scienceÓ into a fully informed Òtheistic science.Ó The main obstacle to Òtheistic scienceÓ is methodological naturalism (MN), which maintains that Òonly natural objects and forces can be referred to in scientific explanations.Ó [46] Thus, arguing that this principle of exclusivity is irrational, conspiratorial and a positive impediment to truth, these authors simply reject the constraint. Instead, they endorse the inclusivity principle, that is, the claim that explanations in terms of the direct and immediate activity of divine agency may constitute a proper part of natural science. Meyer in particular calls for the scientific community to grant equal consideration to divine action as comprising a legitimate scientific explanation. Repudiating MN, the theistic scientist ought to actively develop scientific accounts which as readily appeal to direct divine agency as to natural mechanisms.
The present essay closely scrutinizes two theses: (i) it is positively irrational for the Christian engaged in natural science to remain committed to MN, and (ii) because science has no intrinsic individuating features, it is irrational for the broader scientific community to continue to resist appeal to immediate divine agency as a proper part of natural science. Specifically, I shall argue that the first of these theses is mistaken, and the second is ill-advised and potentially dangerous. I shall conclude that permitting direct reference to divine agency in natural science severely undermines the overall quest for truth. Thus, if there is a distinctively Òchristian way of doing science,Ó it does not come by repudiating MN.
II. MN and the Rationality of Science
It must be understood that the battle for inclusivity is joined at the level internal to the discipline of natural science itself, rather than at the level of overall world views. It is the central contention of these inclusivist authors that MN ought to be rejected for placing an Òartificial limitationÓ upon the scientific quest for truth. Meyer holds that
Methodological Naturalism is not so much irreligious as irrational. Hyperbole aside, strict naturalism functions (at least within origins research) to close off legitimate lines of inquiry and avenues of potential explanation. [ASA, 17; original emphasis]
According to this interpretation, MN is simply an arbitrary and prejudicial vestige of an obviously mistaken understanding of science and knowledge in general. Thus, he labels MN an example of yet ÒÉanother untenable enlightenment view of rationality.Ó [ASA, 17] In this section, I will consider various possible interpretations of the irrationality claim.
i) MN is irrational because it is intellectually stultifying: I begin by addressing a pervasive confusion of this work. Is commitment to MN intellectually stultifying; does it constitute an impediment to the goal of science? On the face of it, the answer would appear to be Òno.Ó MN, in fact, does not place Òartificial limitations upon theory construction,Ó as Meyer supposes, but rather places limitations on scientific theory construction. MN does not have the effect of Òdisqualifying theories that invoke nonnaturalistic eventsÑsuch as instances of agency or intelligent design,Ó but rather simply refuses to regard such theories as comprising a proper part of Ònatural science.Ó
Certainly, there are scientists who invoke MN with the express intent of excluding from all rational consideration appeal to divine agency. Furthermore, many secular (and christian) theorists uncritically and unwittingly collaborate with these ÒconspiratorsÓ by embracing the distinction between the scientific and non-scientific captured by MN along with an often tacit belief in the inferior epistemic status of the latter (which, in this context, becomes Òpseudo-scienceÓ). However, if we, with Moreland, et. al., explicitly reject broad naturalism as an intrusive and mistaken metaphysic, as well as all forms of Òscientism,Ó then the disciplinary distinction entailed by MN should pose no threat to the epistemic status of a broadly theistic hypothesis.
Thus, MN need not prove an impediment to theistic scientistsÕ search for truth, unless they mistakenly suppose that pursuit of truth is the exclusive domain of science. That is, even though commitment to MN, when coupled with belief in either the weak or strong version of scientism, would have a stultifying effect on theological belief, it does not follow that MN, understood as a methodological constraint actually impedes the quest for truth.
ii) MN Commits Science to an Irrational Goal: MeyerÕs irrationality argument appears to be concerned primarily with instrumental rationality. By instrumental rationality we mean the methods employed in order to achieve the ends toward which an activity aims. The question of instrumental rationality asks whether MN constitutes a reasonable means for achieving the goals of natural science. Of course, the answer to this question depends on discerning the goals of natural science. How does MN fair with respect to the goal of accounting-for-experience-in-natural-terms? Since MN simply says that natural science must (minimally, but necessarily) refer exclusively to natural phenomena, without reference to immediate or direct super-natural intervention, the restriction is simply incontestable.
This suggests, then, that rather than simply challenging natural science at the level of proper methodology (the best means by which to achieve some end), the present interpretation of the irrationality argument calls into question Òthe goal of scienceÓ itself. On this reading, the critique of MN effectively challenges the assumption that the aim of science ought to be to provide natural explanations. Thus, construing the irrationality argument in this manner actually serves to move the discussion from a consideration of the instrumental rationality of a particular methodological constraint, to the rationality of natural science itself.
If the measure of good science lies in its prospects for
providing a true and comprehensive understanding of reality, then it does
seem positively irrational, because contrary to independently supported
background knowledge, for the Christian to remain committed to the exclusivity
principle. Yet, is it in fact the aim of natural science simply to provide
understanding of the natural order by appeal to whatever accounts hold
the greatest explanatory power? Even though understanding of reality is
a goal of natural science, it is a shared, not the distinguishing, goal.
Rather, the goal of natural science should be conceived as aiming toward
an understanding of natural entities, processes, events, states of affairs,
relations, and such, as natural entities, processes, events, states of
affairs, relations, and such., i.e., explaining those phenomena from start
to finish in natural terms. This does not commit the scientist to the
view that all phenomena can be given a complete natural explanation (or
indeed any), but rather only to the view that scientific explanations account
for natural phenomena as far as they can in completely natural terms.
There are, of course, many ways to understand a phenomenon, including such concerns as its ¾sthetic value, moral significance, economic impact, and divine purpose. From among these disparate explanatory interests, we pick out natural science as that activity specifically concerned with perceiving that phenomenon as a functional constituent of the natural created order. It is this peculiar interest in natural phenomena which differentiates a scientific pursuit from other particular interests (e.g., moral, political, theological), as well as from the broader, more inclusive, epistemic goal of achieving a comprehensive understanding of reality. The goal of natural science cannot be conceived as Òknowledge,Ó Òtruth,Ó or even ÒunderstandingÓ simpliciter. For as goals, these notions do not distinguish natural science from many other human endeavors. Since the goal of natural science is not to provide a comprehensive understanding of reality, MN does not fail us on the grounds of instrumental irrationality.
iii) MN proscribes pursuit of particular scientific accounts: Perhaps these inclusivists do not seek to broaden the very goals or aims of natural science in this manner, but rather consider MN as irrational because it doesnÕt allow consideration of particular natural explanatory accounts, such as those derived from a religious text. If MN prevented any consideration of specific hypotheses, or particular accounts of the initial conditions, then MN surely would ÒÉleave open the possibility that the best explanations may not have been considered.Ó [ASA, 17]
But does MN have this effect? We have interpreted MN as demanding that a scientific explanation refer exclusively to natural phenomena, Òthe ontological origin of [their] existenceÉ[n]either specified [n]or implied.Ó But, this restriction on natural science leaves quite open the possibility that a particular scientific account, which has its origin in any manner of psychological, sociological, ideological or religious source, can be subsequently subjected to scientific investigation. Surely, if certain kinds of hypotheses are excluded out of hand, based purely on an epistemic bias against their source, then the comparison group will be skewed, and the quest for truth may be impeded. Unless any available account, no matter the source of its inspiration, or the motives, beliefs, agendas, or interests of its advocates, is granted due consideration, there is a chance of missing the best account. But again, does MN have this deleterious effect? Not when simply interpreted as endorsing the principle of exclusivity. Origins research may postulate and examine hypotheses regarding natural phenomena generated from non-scientific, or, in some lights, non-rational, sources. MN must, and, in fact, does, allow for consideration of these accounts as readily as those generated from other, more broadly recognized, sources. Thus, the constraint on natural science placed by MN does not prevent a scientist from positing and examining natural phenomena the origins, sustenance, or purpose of which lies in divine agency.
Should science tolerate the kind of dissent from the Òruling paradigmÓ evident in Special Creationist writings? Surely it must, and indeed has; what one hears is that, to the extent to which Creation Science posits natural explanatory phenomena (fixed species, separate origination of distinct species, a universal flood, a young earth, etc.), it must be considered science, even if deemed by some as Òbad science.Ó Does it follow from this latter assessment that Special Creationism is incorrect? Only if science is the sole source of our knowledge of nature. Indeed, the Christian in search of the truth may judge a particular Scriptural interpretation as having such independent epistemic assurance as to overwhelm a particular rival (scientific) account, particularly when that account has unresolved problems of its own.
It is certainly right to suppose that Christians should have a strong interest in exploring those theoretical accounts suggested by their preferred reading of Scripture: As Moreland argues, Ò[t]heology can provide predictions (or retrodictions) of empirical data (e.g., that humans arose in the Mideast, various inferences from models of a universal flood, young-earth predictions about the age of the earth, gaps in the fossil record)É.Ó [54] As such, inclusivists argue that, if scientists were given the methodological green light to cite immediate divine agency, thereby allowing a thorough scientific exploration of the expectations arising from special creationism, then the relative strengths of Òscientific creationismÓ would be evident. However, it is simply not necessary to reject the exclusivity principle in order to legitimate this line of research. MN is not in the business of making the sort of plausibility assessment which renders a particular hypothesis ÒavailableÓ for scientific consideration; it merely dictates that the hypothesis refer exclusively to natural phenomena. If the hypothesis does posit natural phenomena, and fits well within Scripture or Church tradition, then the Christian ought to explore it thoroughly and vigorously, even if (or, especially if) one supposes that phenomenon to result directly from divine agency.
iv) MN represents an unattainable goal for science: Fourthly, our authors may be arguing that, if MN is not inherently irrational, then it has proven irrational insofar as it is unattainable. Since the goal of providing naturalistic explanations of all phenomena is quite simply unattainable, then it would be irrational to retain a commitment to a concept of science operating under this restriction. Indeed, the lessons of origins research may well be the realization that the more we account for in natural terms, the more remains unexplained. Let us allow that gains in understanding are being outstripped exponentially by new puzzles and challenges. This may suggest that, if science intends to provide a complete account of natural phenomena in purely natural terms, it will never complete the task. Still, does the certain failure of science warrant charges of irrationality to commitment to MN?
In fact, it may remain rational to pursue a goal, knowing that pursuit will meet with failure, if pursuit of that goal enables one to achieve a less ambitious, but no less valuable goal, namely accounting for natural phenomena in strictly natural terms, as far as one can. Even as the evidence mounts against fulfilling the more formidable goal, its pursuit may continue to prove valuable for those gains actually achieved. If the exact extent of our ability to provide natural explanations remains unknown, conceding too much too soon may serve to cut short a venture which holds forth the prospect of considerable conceptual gains. Furthermore, a relentless pursuit of natural explanations, even though ultimately futile, may prove useful to our interest in a comprehensive understanding of reality. That is, the extent and exact nature of this failure may provide a metaphysician with data useful for her interest in accounting for the full-orb of reality, natural and, as indicated, non-natural. Thus, the goal of science in providing a Òpurely natural accountÓ should be viewed as having both intrinsic as well as extrinsic cognitive value. Scientific explanations are certainly intrinsically worthwhile, providing, as they do, valuable understanding of the world. Furthermore, that natural science only goes so far (as evidenced by its own apparent limitations) makes an equally valuable contribution to the quest for a comprehensive account of reality. Of course, the Christian does not need the breakdown of natural science in order to support her own belief in divine agency. She may nonetheless embrace natural science for no other reason than that it takes its task so seriously as to accentuate its own shortcomings. And since there is nothing incompatible with theism and MN, it would not be irrational, even for the Christian, to seriously undertake the scientific enterprise.
v) MN represents an arbitrary and artificial, thus irrational, commitment to a deficient understanding of scientific rationality: According to this interpretation, the preceding construals of the irrationality thesis understate the force of the argument against MN. When Meyer says that MN places Ò[a]rtificial limitations upon theory construction only [to] leave open the possibility that the best explanations may not have been considered,Ó [ASA, 17] he means to emphasize the extent to which MN stifles accounts which, if given due consideration, proper attention and full development by the scientific community, would rival the natural alternatives in strength of merit. Any view of science that stubbornly resists their inclusion should be deemed irrational. This seems to render the irrationality argument in its strongest form: it is irrational not to view progressive creationism and/or young earth creation-science Òas ways of specifying creationism as a [scientific] research program.Ó [Moreland, ASA, 5]
The difficulty with weighing the merits of this proposal is the difficulty in saying anything at all about the rationality of science. Meyer strongly recommends a Òpost-positivistÓ construal of science, largely, no doubt, because he views it as the correct construal of science, but not incidentally because it challenges the sort of a priori, ahistorical, judgments on science as are typically leveled against inclusivity. The catch, of course, is that this also undercuts any a priori positive account of the rationality of inclusivity our authors might hope to proffer. All is not lost for the inclusivist, however, for if there are no prior understanding constrains a proper scientific methodology, then shouldnÕt we allow inclusivist science its rightful day in the sun to see how it fairs?
This is a formidable argument. If we cannot rule out inclusivity a priori, then what grounds remain upon which to judge its rational merits? Presumably, only the head-to-head competition of these rival conceptions of science could reveal their respective strengths. Since MN eliminates this competition at its inception, it is literally pre-judicial, and so irrational, to continue to regard exclusivistic science superior. Thus, even if commitment to MN is not positively irrational, we may nonetheless hold out for the prudential rationality of inclusivity insofar as pursuit of that project will enable us to finally assess its intrinsic merits. Surely to disallow from the start this kind of healthy competition is the height of irrationality.
Thus, rather than arguing directly for the inherent rationality of Òtheistic science,Ó our authors challenge the very idea of prior constraints on a proper scientific methodology. This effectively shifts the burden of proof onto those who claim that inclusivity is not in fact worth this kind of examination. Since, as Meyer supposes, the opponents of inclusivity cannot based their position on the very essence of science itself, the prejudicial spirit of exclusivity should be readily apparent. Yet, by adopting this strategy, our authors have significantly raised the stakes of the debate, for removing the notion of prior rational constraints might prevent us from speaking, except in relative terms, of the rationality of science at all. This move is doubly problematic for Moreland, et. al., for, first, if our conception of a rational methodology depends on the consensus of the present scientific community, then inclusivity surely will not find favor. But, secondly, and far more significantly, we might expect a properly theistic science to be based on some objective notions of rationality. Thus, in the following section I will examine this move with my response based on the belief that (i) there are in fact, as Moreland, et. al. surely must recognize, prior constraints on any legitimate scientific methodology, and (ii) there are reasons, based on these prior constraints, and largely ignored by these authors, which in fact do support commitment to MN. I do not intend to join those who argue that inclusivity is itself irrational. Rather, I will simply maintain that the preponderance of evidence continues to favor commitment to MN.
III. Inclusivity does not Violate any Necessary and
Prior Constraints on Science
In the central section of his paper Meyer shifts the burden of proof onto the exclusivist by arguing (i) that there are in fact no criteria, definitive of science, which specifically exclude divine agency from consideration in a properly scientific account, and (ii) there simply are no criteria which definitively demarcate science from non-science. Meyer begins with this second claim, suggesting that, since no essential features distinguish science from non-science, inclusivity cannot be disallowed on prior consideration. In case the reader remains unconvinced, he then argues that recent attempts to define science by means of some particular feature have either failed to capture all of science, or fails to exclude appeal to divine agency. Thus, Meyer argues not only that there are no necessary, a priori methodological constraints on science, but all attempts to delineate these constraints that would rule out divine agency have failed the test of application. We are eventually led to consider the position which holds that it is MN itself which demarcates science from non-science. Acknowledging this as a common response to inclusivity, he insists that it must be resisted as metaphysically gratuitous, question-begging and banefully circular.
(i) Absence of all a priori constraints on scientific practice: Meyer begins by addressing the view that science involves essential features which the inclusivity principle violates. In this section he argues against the notion of science as constituting a natural kind with an Òeternal essence,Ó in favor of the construal of science as an historically developing, contingent and ever-changing product of particular human cultures and interests. Recent analysis characterize science as largely involving change rather than stability, and this not only at the level of the substantive theories, but, most significantly, at the level of its very methods and aims. ÒHistorically, attempts to find methodological Ôinvariants,ÕÓ Meyer affirms, Òthat provide a set of necessary and sufficient conditions for distinguishing true science from pseudoscience have failed.Ó [72]
Thus, Meyer fully endorses the conclusion of Òmost contemporary philosophers of science,Ó that Òthe question ÔWhat methods distinguish science from non-science?Õ [is] both intractable and uninteresting.Ó [75] It is at this point that MeyerÕs indebtedness to the work of Larry Laudan is most evident, for Laudan, in his most recent writings, argues that there are no methods or aims which necessarily delimit the proper practice of science. LaudanÕs argument is explicitly inductive: ÒWe haveÉseen,Ó he concludes after an historical survey, Òthat the aims of individual ÔscientistsÕ in one epoch are very different from those in another; it would be no more difficult to document the claim that the aims of the ÔscientificÕ community change through time.Ó Laudan believes that this historical fact should be explained by adopting an anti-essentialist view of science. Although he resists the holistic picture of scientific change made famous by Kuhn (with its irrationalist overtones), Laudan maintains that changes at the level of scientific theories may affect change in both the methods and aims of science; nothing is immune from revision. His ÒreticulatedÓ model of scientific change holds that change in theories can affect changes in methods, and vice-versa, and changes in methods can affect changes in aims, and vice versa, so that, instead of a hierarchy, with the aims of science prescribing both the proper methods and, by extension, the substantive content of scientific theories, there is a reciprocal relationship with a feedback loop such that the very aims of science are subject to radical revision in light of changes in substantive beliefs and available methods.
LaudanÕs reticulated model of science suits Meyer well for it enables him to support a non-essentialist construal of science, such that theistic science does not face antecedent elimination, while at the same time providing a framework for maintaining the propriety of a construal of science whose particular methods are evaluated vis-ˆ-vis its goals. There is, however, a certain ambivalence in MeyerÕs remarks, for although he does maintain that ÒÉno agreed criteria exist by which to judgeÓ whether or not a certain theory is scientific or not, he disavows interest in Òseeking to establish the impossibility of demarcation in general.Ó [75] In fact, fully endorsing a non-essentialist view of science does raise significant concerns, such as those betrayed in the following comments:
To say that some discipline or activity qualifies as scientific is to imply the existence of a standard by which the scientific status of an activity or discipline can be assessed or adjudicated. If no such standard presently exists, then nothing positive ( or negative) can be said about the scientific status of intelligent design (or any other theory for that matter). [98, emphasis added]
Does Meyer really mean to suggest that just any conjecture might count as science? He does insist that the absence of Òan agreed standard as to what constitutes the properly scientificÓ [98] prevents a prior exclusion of any account. Yet Meyer is careful to disavow Òmethodological anarchism.Ó [100] He does not wish to open the door of scientific legitimacy to Òintelligent design,Ó at the cost of granting legitimacy to any conceivable account. His reluctance, I suspect, stems from his unwillingness to consider science as being wholly malleable. Thus, although he rejects the possibility of Òa negative a priori caseÓ against inclusivity, he does not appear interested in rejecting the possibility of an a posteriori case for inclusivity.
In fact, in the end, Meyer does not fully sanction LaudanÕs construal of science at all. In the course of his discussion, Meyer allows that we might not want to call ÒdesignÓ science after all: ÒWhat we want to know is not whether a theory is scientific but whether a theory is true or false, well confirmed or not, worthy of our belief or not.Ó [99] This comment on the ultimate interest in the truth of an hypothesis or theory, rather than whether or not we call it Òscience,Ó suggests a significant disanalogy between his non-essentialism and the non-essentialism of an anti-realist like Laudan.
One way to understand the significance of the difference between Meyer and Laudan on this point is to focus on the question of why they each consider the demarcation question not only intractable, but also uninteresting. For Laudan, an anti-realist who considers science an impotent means for attaining knowledge of reality, the question of demarcation loses import when it ceases to delineate claims of particular epistemic significance.
[L]eaving aside the fact that agreement was lacking about precisely what the scientific method was, there was no very good reason as yet to prefer any one of the proposed Ôscientific methodsÕ to any purportedly Ônon-scientificÕ ones, since no one had managed to show either that any of the candidate Ôscientific methodsÕ qualified them as ÔknowledgeÕ (in the traditional sense of the term) or, even more minimally, that those methods were epistemically superior to their rivals. [342]
While Laudan recognizes that scientists regularly speak in terms of knowledge, truth and reality, he nonetheless argues that truth as a goal of any human endeavor is either unachievable, or else unrecognizable. If so, then it can serve no useful purpose as the goal of the enterprise, nor can it provide the grounds for recommending a particular methodology. Since Laudan rejects the notion that truth constitutes a coherent goal of science, it cannot be viewed as a distinctive goal, and so the task of separating the scientific from the non-scientific on epistemic grounds is rendered wholly impertinent.
For Meyer, a realist in both the sciences and theology, the distinction also lacks significance for lack of epistemic significance, but for a very different reason. In his view, both science and non-science are capable of delivering the epistemic goods. Meyer is certainly right to suppose that Òone does not need to adopt a relativistic or antirealist view of science to accept what Laudan and others say about the demarcation problem. Indeed, the two positions are logically unrelated.Ó [76] That is, one does not have to be a relativist or anti-realist to accept that historical attempts to demarcate science (knowledge) from non-science (opinion) have failed. Yet, this difference is absolutely crucial for the assessment of science as governed by fixed constraints, for from the anti-realist perspective, that discipline may ultimately take any imaginable form (albeit moving from its present to this latter state in incremental, and individually justified, steps). Since Laudan rejects the notion that truth is an achievable goal to be served by scientific methods, then the only constraints on scientific method are those provided by those Òends which we [currently] find cognitively important.Ó
For Meyer, on the other hand, the nature of science is governed by its aim toward truthÑonly truth-conducive practices should be considered scientific. For the realist, then, certain external constraints do bear down upon the aim, and thus the methods, of science. Either truth, or representation of reality, are goals of science, or they are not. If they are, as Meyer certainly maintains (and why not, if indeed accessible), then they will strongly determine what type of activities properly fall under the rubric of ÒscientificÓÑa chemical analysis of tea leaves does; reading tea leaves does not. The relevant difference between these two endeavors is their effectiveness in conveying the nature of the world. We regard the former as science, and the latter as superstition, not because of a prejudice against occult qualities, but because of their respective abilities to track truth.
The question, then, is where Meyer's analysis of science leaves the overall framework of his argument. Invoking a non-essentialist view of science does open the door for inclusivity. Furthermore, his commitment to realism, although providing important methodological constraints, does not dictate particular a priori restrictions on science; it may well warrant inclusivity. Nonetheless, Meyer is committed to the notion of discernible methodological criteria, viz. those operational strictures which we have learned to be truth-conducive. Thus, even if inclusivity, as a methodological principle, cannot be ruled out in advance, it remains to be seen how well it actually serves the aim of providing an accurate understanding of reality. Does reference to divine agency in the course of scientific theorizing in fact furthers our interest in understanding, as far as we can, the structure of nature, and ultimately the relations among all the components of reality, natural and non-natural? Since, as we have argued, MN does not necessarily impede the quest for truth, there is no reason to reject it out of hand as providing a proper constraint on the discipline of science. If, in fact, it proves positively beneficial to the overall goal of knowledge, then we will have reason to suppose that it ought to be retained.
(ii) There are no methodological criteria which exclude appeal to divine agency, which do not also exclude examples of good science: We have argued above that the aim of science is not simply to gain understanding of the natural order, or an account of natural processes, but rather an understanding of the natural order, or account of natural processes in terms of further natural phenomena. If, at bottom, various demarcation criteria rule out reference to agency just because it does not make appeal to strictly natural phenomena, this would appear to beg the question against inclusivity. ÒSimply asserting that such [immaterial] entities [such as creative intelligence, mind, mental action, divine action or intelligent design] may not be considered, whatever the empirical justification for their postulation, clearly does not constitute a justification for an exclusively naturalistic definition of science.Ó [87]
Surely the point at issue is whether there are independent and metaphysically neutral grounds for disqualifying theories that invoke nonnaturalistic eventsÑsuch as instances of agency or intelligent design. To assert that such theories are not scientific because they are not naturalistic simply assumes the point at issue. ÉWhat noncircular reason can be given for this assertion? What independent criterion of method demonstrates the inferior scientific status of nonnaturalistic explanation? [82]
Meyer is correct to point out that support for several of these criteria rests on the assumption of MN; some of these specific criteria simply function as corollaries to this broader methodological constraint. Therefore, one cannot justify appeal to the ancillary criterion by appeal to MN, if it is the warrant for MN that is ultimately in question.
So, are there independent grounds for MN, or do those scientists committed to MN Òsimply assertÓ this methodological constraint? That the answer cannot be determined a priori, based on advance knowledge of the essence of science, does not rule out the possibility of an empirical and broadly inductive response. First, it must be recognized that since science is a human invention and a wholly human endeavor, whatever goals there might be for this activity will have been determined conventionally. That is, these goals are not transcendent, handed down from above, discernible by simply thinking about the practice of science. Rather, the goals of science are those as determined by the fallible human participants in the endeavor.
Nevertheless, even on this historicist construal, there remains something enduring amidst the flux, namely the ongoing quest for an understanding of reality. There is a very important sense in which the goals of science, whether fixed or in flux, are not purely conventional, an arbitrary human construct, but rather discovered; that is, the goals humans have set forth have been discovered to be attainable by having been discovered to have been attained. If a particular goal, viz. to gain an understanding of natural phenomena strictly in terms of natural phenomena, has been deemed significant, and yet found to have been achieved, then that goal should be regarded neither as "simply [i.e., arbitrarily] asserted," nor capriciously forsaken. Furthermore, examining the actual practice of science might enable us to discern the means by which to accomplish that end. Certainly, throughout the history of science, there has been a disparity in self-understanding of how scientists have carried out their activity; there appears, as Laudan insists, a strong element of contingency at the methodological level. Nonetheless, recognizing historical contingency of these methodological commitments would not prevent their validation by their service to such an achievable and manifestly significant goal. Therefore, absence of a prior, rationalist justification still leaves open the possibility of a retroactive, empirical vindication of both the aim and methods of science.
Does this approach avoid the charge of circularity? Not entirely, for ultimately this argument rests on the claim that science has been successful in accomplishing the goal of understanding natural phenomena. Why think that we can comprehend reality, i.e., why suppose that this goal is fulfillable? Because we have, in some limited fashion, actually fulfilled it. Of course, it is precisely on this point that someone like Laudan balks, and I doubt that there is a non-circular argument available to drive the skeptic from this view. So, ultimately this position is dependent on the belief that the enterprise has enjoyed some limited success in accomplishing the end toward which it aims. But this is not a circle which should worry Meyer. He is, I take it, a scientific realist, willing to assign a degree of reality to those natural explanations by which scientists explain the phenomena of experience. To the extent to which he recognizes the, albeit limited, success of science, he must pay some heed to whatever method has made possible that achievement. What then of MN? I take it that the defense of MN rests on the belief that restricting science to naturalistic explanations has (historically) contributed to the success of science in providing knowledge of natural phenomena. It could have been that we would have gained an understanding of natural phenomena by appealing straight-away to divine agency, or readily countenancing non-natural accounts; God may well have regularly acted directly or immediately in the natural domain. We may yet discover that the best prospects for understanding particular natural phenomena is by appeal to divine agency. But, as it happens, for various political, philosophical, theological, sociological, and scientific reasons, scientist have become tenaciously committed to seeking fully mechanistic accounts, a methodological choice which has proven remarkably fruitful.
Does Meyer really wish to deny this point? I donÕt think so. His position, as I understand it, is not that MN has no authority in governing scientific practice, but rather that the (christian) scientist, qua scientist, should not give it final authority. That is, there will be a point where strictly natural science appears unable to account for some phenomena, and this is precisely that point at which appeal to divine agency is deemed a plausible scientific response. ÒIntelligent design can be offeredÉas a necessary or best causal explanation only when naturalistic processes seem incapable of producing the explanandum effect, and when intelligence is known to be capable of producing it and thought to be more likely to have produced it.Ó [97; emphasis added] Of course, from the christian perspective, intelligence is known to be capable of producing any explanandum effect. So the question concerns the weighted likelihood of Òthe two possible types of causes: mechanistic [or] intelligent.Ó [87-88] In this event, as Meyer himself warns, Òif competing hypotheses are eliminated before they are evaluated, remaining theories may acquire an undeserved dominance.Ó [100] Thus, the sciences ought to grant as much initial credence to intelligence as a purely natural mechanism.
We have cited this last point repeatedly, for the argument for full and fair consideration of all competitors is absolutely crucial; it does, however, cut both ways. In order to render this judgment, a scientist must explore all available natural accounts in order to gain a fair reading of the prospect for the success of each. Different natural hypotheses will carry different probability assignments, and so will compare more or less favorably with appeal to agency, based on its Òtheological plausibilityÓ for the given case. [97] Even for the inclusivist, then, at some juncture a comparison must be made between the best available natural account, and appeal to divine agency as the non-mediated cause of the phenomena. That is, in order for this analysis to reveal the best overall theory, the comparison must be between the best account restricted, non-inclusive, ÒscienceÓ has to offer, and the best direct interventionist ÒtheologicalÓ account.
Yet, for this comparison to carry maximal epistemic authority, we must have full confidence that science has in fact proffered the strongest natural account. Traditionally, this confidence has been born along on the steadfast devotion of the scientific community to relentlessly seek and evaluate natural, and only natural, explanations. The tenacity attached to this methodological constraint has ensured that any plausible natural account will have been given due consideration. It has also, in fact, served to uncover the nature of realityÑthat is, to reveal the predominant manner by which God has chosen to interact with the world. The evident worry concerning the sanction of inclusivity stems, then, from the belief that science has established a notable track-record for providing insight into reality precisely when constrained by MN. Science has enabled us to make progress in our understanding and comprehension of the nature of reality, and MN must be considered a central part of that story.
What Meyer needs, here, is an argument to the effect that the christian goal of attaining an overall understanding of reality is not in fact served by retaining MN. Unfortunately, there doesnÕt seem to be evidence available to support this contention. On the contrary, the accuracy of our understanding of the created order has been vastly enhanced by so delimiting the explanatory resources of the scientist. Constraining scientists forces them to persist in their investigations into the natural causes of natural phenomena in such a manner as to effectively service the goal of scienceÑunderstanding reality, as far as possible, in natural terms. Herein lies the intrinsic value of a purely natural science. In this respect, the competition between these rival accounts has already been waged with the results decidedly in favor of exclusivity. Further, since natural science typically does not, and certainly should not, make exclusive claims to revealing reality, revisiting this old battle is neither necessary, nor a promising strategy for our interest in gaining a full understanding the nature of reality.
As we have seen, exclusivity has also worked to promote the goal of achieving an unrestricted understanding of reality by seeing to it that any non-natural account gain ascendancy over its strongest competitor. Thus, not only has exclusivity served to uncover the structure of the natural world, it has served the further function of revealing the limitations of the best natural accounts. When one looks at some of the other pieces in this same volume, it is remarkably clear that the arguments for design are in fact dependent on the evident inability of science, restricted as it is to providing strictly natural accounts, to explain certain phenomena. Herein lies the instrumental value of a distinct, purely natural science. Natural theology, and our overall goal of understanding reality, are served in a crucial manner by insisting that science resolutely avoid appeal to divine agency.
In fact, the present argument can be strengthened by maintaining that the scientist must be granted epistemic license (in the form of instrumental rationality) to explore natural accounts, even when they appear less promising than non-natural accounts. If scientific rationality allows for appeal to divine agency, then there will be occasions when, for the Christian at least, appeal to divine agency will provide a more promising account than any available natural account. In that case, the rational course to take, as a scientist, would be to leave aside the search for natural processes, and pursue a non-natural explanation. If, then, science merely permits appeal to divine agency, then scientific rationality will compel appeal to that account. But, once again, history shows that a stubborn commitment to methodological naturalism has resulted in the discovery of natural accounts which in fact have gained wide acceptance, even among Christians. Where the decided implausibility of the natural account would have forced the scientific community to affirm immediate divine agency, if that were scientifically permissible, MN supports the sort of activity which has actually enhanced our understanding of the world. Christians, just as anyone with an interest in truth, need a haven for the rational pursuit of lines of inquiry which may not, but then again just might, develop in a manner that ultimately renders them rationally preferable.
IV. Taking MN Seriously
The criticisms of the principle of inclusivity given above intimate reasons for remaining committed to methodological naturalism. Fundamentally, that reason involves the availability of the best competing explanations. If, as we have assumed, a form of abductive reasoning characterizes the sciences, or at least an historical science which addresses questions of origins, then this procedure will be most effective when it examines the respective merits of the best hypotheses available. Unless one has prior reason to suppose that natural science will provide the final word on the nature of reality, that is, that that scientific hypothesis deemed strongest must be considered best overall, one should expect the strongest scientific hypothesis to ultimately confront non-scientific competitors. Ultimately, natural science faces a non-natural competitor. It is, as Dembski argues, ÒÉas soon as empirical resources are exhausted, [that] naturalistic explanation loses its monopoly as the only legitimate explanatory strategy for science.Ó [132] This seems quite right, except for these last two words. Is it the best strategy to allow science to appeal to divine agency? Again, as Dembski rightly insists, we may appeal to God, not to Òmask ignorance of natural causes,Ó but rather because Òwe have exhausted the full range of possible natural causes.Ó [132] Yet the fundamental worry, addressed by MN, concerns the task of determining if we have exhausted the full range of possible natural causes. History intimates that only when unreserved effort is expended within the scientific community to provide the best natural account can there be any assurance that its full resources will have been exhausted; preserving the disciplinary boundaries by means of a proscribed methodology has been quite successful in producing the best natural account. Sometimes that account proves correct, that is, preferable to direct appeal to divine agency; sometimes, as is inevitable in origins research, it does not. When it does not, however, confidence in the rival theological account is grounded, in part, on the belief that it has been deemed superior to the best natural account currently available.
If this line of defense is sound, then, the mere fact
that there are no direct a priori grounds for rejecting inclusivity does
not mean there are no grounds at all; the overall interest in truth, an
apparently achievable goal of scientists, especially christian, is best
served when natural science is constrained by MN.
In The Creation Hypothesis: Scientific Evidence of an Intelligent Designer (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1994; hereafter, page numbers referenced in text. See also, ÒConceptual Problems and the Scientific Status of Creation Science,Ó Perspectives on Science and Christian Faith: Journal of the American Scientific Affiliation, 46.1 (March 1994), pp. 2-13; along with, Stephen C. Meyer, ÒThe Use and Abuse of Philosophy of Science: A Response to Moreland,Ó Ibid., pp. 12-18. Hereafter, page numbers referenced as ÒASA,Ó for each respective article.
Ernan McMullin utilizes this distinction in ÒPlantingaÕs Defense of Special Creation,Ó Christian Scholars Review XXI:1 (September 1991), pp. 57-58.
Dembski: ÒThe prejudice is this: that naturalistic explanation is somehow intrinsically better than nonnaturalistic explanation. This is certainly a value judgment. I call it a prejudice because its effect on inquiry is limiting and destructive.Ó [131] Notice the extent to which this analysis requires not only commitment to MN, but to some form of scientism as well.
Moreland ascribes to the notion that attempts to defend MN are at heart defense of some form of scientism. ÒNow this is clearly the explicit cognitive goal in the MN of de Vries and van Till, however laudable their motives and intentions are on other grounds.Ó [50-51] But, ÒScience has never exhausted the rational, nor has science ever been a discipline or set of disciplines intellectually isolated from direct interaction, mutual reinforcement or competition from other fields of study, especially philosophy and theology.Ó [51, my emphasis, intended to highlight the tacit recognition that NT should not be assimilated to NS] Here, again, we find Moreland strapping the defender of MN with scientism, a view to which the proponent need not be committed.
Including Òweak scientism,Ó the view that Òscientific propositions have greater cognitive authority than those of other fields.Ó [16] ÒStrong scientism is the view that some proposition or theory is true or rational to believe if and only if it is a scientific proposition or theoryÑthat is, if and only if it is a well-established scientific proposition or theory, which in turn depends upon its having been successfully formed, tested and used according to appropriate scientific methodology. There are no truths apart from scientific truths, and even if there were, there would be no reason whatever to believe them.Ó [14]
The aim of science is often spoken of in terms of prediction and control. There are a number of crucial issues which ride on the manner in which one views the scientific enterprise. I do not intend to dispute the claim that scientists are, often centrally, interested in prediction and control, but rather only intend to suggest that those interests are best served by achieving the sort of accurate understanding of natural phenomena necessary to facilitate these other concerns.
Another way to approach this topic is to assign to science the task of determining just how it is that God works in the created order. As Pearcey and Thaxton argue in The Soul of Science: Christian Faith and Natural Philosophy (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 1994), this debate occurred primarily among christian scientists in the last several hundred years, a debate that has resulted in our present understanding of science in largely mechanistic terms. The materialistic mechanistic worldview predominant in science is a philosophical extension of an older, non-materialistic form of mechanism, evident today in the writings of theistic evolutionists.
van Till, p. 127. Although van Till prudently shies from discussion of MN, he offers these comments as characterizing the narrow construal of Ònaturalistic.Ó He goes on to say: ÒNor is the ultimate source of its capacities for behaving as it does, or its purpose in the larger context of all reality, or its relation to divine action or intention [specified or implied].Ó He hereby rightly allows ample room for a Òdesign hypothesisÓ which accounts for the remarkable effectiveness of these natural phenomena.
As Meyer rightly reminds us,
The deployment of flawed or metaphysically tendentious demarcation arguments against legitimate theoretical contenders has produced an unjustified confidence in the epistemic standing of much evolutionary dogma, including Òthe fact of evolutionÓ defined as common descent. If competing hypotheses are eliminated before they are evaluated, remaining theories may acquire an undeserved dominance. [100]
As James Robert Brown points out, ÒAny social or psychological factor which is systematically present in the comparison group will be systematically overlooked in the process of rank-orderingÓ (The Rational and the Social (New York: Routledge, 1989), 156). Brown offers an extremely helpful discussion of the role of social factors in science, especially, on this point, pp. 155ff., and again, pp. 176ff.
Does there come a point at which the scientific support is so weak that an hypothesis ought to be ruled Òunscientific,Ó simply for playing the game so badly? I would think so. This sort of challenge, however, which may figure prominently in resistance to ÒCreationismÓ in public schools, is not where these authors choose to meet the attack.
Maybe it should simply be considered the goal of science Òto-provide-a-naturalistic-account-as-far-as-one-can,Ó leaving open the question of how far this might take one. This would allow both the theist and the thorough-going naturalist to engage in the same activity, in pursuit of the same goal, with differing expectations concerning the unexplained remainder once that goal has been fulfilled. Kitcher, for instance, maintains that ÒÉthe cognitive goal of science is to attain significant truthÉinsofar as it is possible for beings with our limitations to do so.Ó [Kitcher, The Advancement of Science: Science without Legend, Objectivity without Illusions (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), p. 157.]
Larry Laudan, ÒProgress or Rationality? The Prospects for Normative Naturalism,Ó American Philosophical Quarterly, 24.1 (Jan., 1987), p. 23.
Even though Laudan cannot be labeled an anarchist, his reticulated model does not have the resources to prevent science from becoming, in the long run, unrecognizable by present lights. In the absence of any external constraints, his views on (scientific) rationality resembles Richard RortyÕs ethnocentrism. Ernan McMullin comments on this possibility in, ÒThe Shaping of Scientific Rationality: Construction and Constraint,Ó [in Construction and Constraint (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1989), p. 18.] Rorty describes the difference between his ethnocentrism and relativism in ÒSolidarity or Objectivity?Ó [in Objectivity, Relativism and Truth (New York: Cambridge University Press: 1991), pp. 21-34.]
LaudanÕs reticulated model allows that not just any goal will qualify at a given time, for some goals, according to our current scientific theories, are not realizable. Along this vein, Laudan would surely resist the inclusivity principle insofar as it fails to move us closer Òto a realization of ends that most of us [presently happen to] hold to be important and worthwhile.Ó [Larry Laudan, ÒProgress or Rationality? The Prospects for Normative Naturalism,Ó American Philosophical Quarterly, 24.1 (Jan., 1987) p. 28] Ò[A]s soon as there is a record of people whose behavior has been largely successful at realizing many of the cognitive aims which we hold dear, then a proposed methodology of science cannot afford to ignore that record.Ó [Ibid.]
Is Laudan right in identifying a diversity of methods in the history of science? Maybe, but even so, this would not entail a diversity of aims, for it is not unreasonable to expect that scientists will have learned something about how to best go about the task of uncovering the underlying structures of reality.
As Wesley Salmon points out in the opening paragraphs of his Scientific Explanation and the Causal Structure of the World (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1984), ÒNot only do we desire to know what happens; we also what to understand why. Moreover, it is widely acknowledged today that science can provide explanations of natural phenomena; indeed, to many philosophers and scientists, this is the primary goal of scientific activity.Ó [3] Salmon proceeds to give a Òcausal-mechanicalÓ account of science, maintaining that Òscientific explanation is designed to provide understanding, and such understanding results from knowing how thing work.Ó [240, original emphasis] It is by no means SalmonÕs belief that this account of science is as it must inevitably be, for he disavows commitment to the necessity or even universality of his account. ÒI have not been trying to lay down conditions that must be satisfied by all admissible scientific explanations in all possible worlds,Ó he insists in his concluding remarks. ÒMy aim has been to articulate contingent features of scientific explanations in this world as we presently conceive it.Ó [278] Nevertheless, the remarkable success of science in fulfilling these goals warrants granting the causal/mechanical model significant, if ultimately limited, application. [237, 240]
The interesting cases would be those in which the scientist concludes that the phenomena in question is simply the result of randomness or chance. By requiring both Òempirical warrantÓ and Òtheological plausibilityÓ Meyer seems to recognize the possibility that the lack of a naturalistic explanation does not of itself justify appeal to divine agency. The preferred hypothesis, in such a case, may be the null hypothesis (we donÕt want to rule the evolutionary account out by default!).
Richard S. Westfall, in his book The Construction of Modern Science: Mechanisms and Mechanics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1971), documents how 17C science represents the movement away from appeal to occult and mysterious forces with which the universe was thought to be filled, toward what he identifies as the mechanical philosophy. ÒAs he [Boyle] summed it up, the mechanical philosophy traces all natural phenomena to the Ôtwo catholic principles,Õ matter and motion. He might have added that by ÔmatterÕ the mechanical philosophy means qualitatively neutral stuff, shorn of every active principle and of every vestige of perception. Whatever the crudities of the 17th centuryÕs conception of nature, the rigid exclusion of the psychic from physical nature has remained as its permanent legacy.Ó [41] Commenting on his own Òmechanical philosophy,Ó Wesley Salmon writes, ÒWe have to change our mechanistic view from the crude atomism that recognizes only the motions of material particles in the void to a conception that admits such nonmaterial entities as fields, but for all of that, it is still a mechanistic world view. Materialism is untenable, but the mechanical philosophy, I believe, remains viable.Ó [in Scientific Explanation and the Causal Structure of the World, p. 241] For a fine treatment on the complex interface between the mechanical philosophy and the Christian faith, see the excellent discussion in Colin A. RussellÕs Cross-currents: Interactions Between Science & Faith (Grand Rapids, MI: EerdmannÕs Publishing Co., 1985), especially chapter 4.
In fact, that evidence may be forthcoming, as Meyer, Dembski and Paul Nelson collaborate on a project which seeks to apply the principles of Theistic Science. This work may well command the sort of respect which not only changes our substantive views on the natural world, but also precipitates the sort of revolution foreshadowed in the writings we have been examining.
In his contribution, Hugh Ross makes this observation:
The more astronomers learn about the origin and development of the universe, the more evidence they accumulate for the existence of God, and for the God of the Bible in particular. Ironically, those who fought hardest against God as the explanation for the cosmos often were the ones whose work provided the most powerful new evidence for him today, with the measuring of the creation has come the scientific equipment to make a positive identification of the Creator. [171, my emphasis]
Although there is indeed irony in this situation, there is no irony in the suggestion that commitment to methodological naturalism would have the same effect of providing Òthe most powerful evidenceÓ for a Creator today.
This suggests that the real value of Moreland and MeyerÕs
argument may lie in the poignancy of their call for Christian scientists
to be very clear and articulate concerning the exact limitations of the
best scientific account. Christians involved in science need to sort out
and delineate the extent to which the evidence supports the various elements
of a particular scientific theory. The weaknesses of that account should
be frankly acknowledge by the scientist, whether Christian or not. The
evidence will underdetermine any scientific account, and it may fall to
the particular province of the Christian to highlight the shortcoming of
the overall best scientific account, effectively limiting the pretense
of naturalistic science.