About the Author

 

I grew up at the feet of the majestic mountains of Provo, Utah and spent as much of my childhood as I could outdoors. By the time I was in fifth grade, I knew I wanted to be a biologist. I received a B.S. in Molecular Biology and Conservation Biology from Brigham Young University and a M.S. in Wildlife Resources from the University of Idaho. I spent several years working as a genetics researcher, first in the biotech industry and then in the field of conservation genetics, and one year teaching at a private school. I am the wife of an architect and the stay-at-home mother of three children in Spokane, Washington. I enjoy (among other things) reading, bird watching, playing various Celtic and folk instruments, and eating ice cream.

As a long-time student of biology and a life-long member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I have had many occasions to wrestle with questions at the interface between science and religion. Throughout this process, I have found great harmony in being a person of faith and a scientist. The two ways of knowing complement each other, and I find that my view is greatly enriched when I learn both by study and by faith, with my mind as well as with my heart. This does not mean that I have an answer for every perplexing puzzle that arises from our current, incomplete understanding of the world. But I "...welcome truth from whatever source, and take the view that where religion and science seem to clash, it is often because there is insufficient data to reconcile the two." (Quote from "The Mormon Next Door," a presentation developed by the Church of Jesus Christ to familiarize others with the basic features of the Church.)

References Used in Posts

 

• Brooke, J.H. 1991. Science and Religion. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge

• Dembski, W. 1996. What every theologian should know about creation, evolution and design. Princeton Theological Review. http://www.discovery.org/a/122

• Dembski, W. 1998. The Intelligent Design Movement. http://www.designinference.com/documents/1998.03.ID_movement.htm

• Gould, S.J. 1999. Rocks of ages: science and religion in the fullness of life. The Ballantine Publishing Group, New York

• Hickman, C.P Jr., L.S. Roberts, and F.M. Hickman. 1988. Integrated principles of zoology. 8th edition. Times Mirror/Mosby College Publishing, St. Louis.

• Hume, D. 1740. A treatise of human nature. Volume 3. Thomas Longman, London.

• Kitzmiller vs Dover. 2005, available at http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Kitzmiller_v._Dover_Area_School_District/4:Whether_ID_Is_Science

• Krebs, C.J. 2001. Ecology: the experimental analysis of distribution and abundance. 5th edition. Benjamin Cummings, San Francisco, CA.

• Mayr, E. 1982. The growth of biological thought: diversity, evolution, and inheritance. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA.

• Meffe, G.K , C.R. Carroll, and contributors. 1994. Principles of conservation biology. Sinauer Associates, Sunderland, MA.

• Miller, K. R. 1999. Finding Darwin’s God: a scientist’s search for common ground between God and evolution. Harper Collins Publishers, New York.

• National Academy of Sciences. 1998. Teaching about evolution and the nature of science. National Academy Press, Washington, D.C.

• Noon, B.R. and D.D. Murphy. 1994. Management of the spotted owl: the interaction of science, policy, politics, and litigation. Pp. 380-388 in Meffe and Carroll 1994.

• Orr, D. 2004. The corruption (and redemption) of science. Conservation Biology 18:862-865.

• Pigliucci, M. 2002. Denying evolution: creationism, scientism, and the nature of science. Sinauer Associates, Sunderland, MA.

• Popper, K.R. 1959. The logic of scientific discovery. 2002 Printing. Routledge (UK), London, New York.

• Ruse, M., ed. 1996. But is it science?: the philosophical question in the creation/evolution controversy. Prometheus Books, Amherst, NY.

• Stenmark, M. 2004. How to relate science and religion. William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., Grand Rapids, MI.

Links in the Posts

Here is a list of the links referenced in the posts, as accessed on the dates when the posts were written.

Defining Faith and Science: Part 2

How Science Works: https://undsci.berkeley.edu/article/howscienceworks_01

Do Science and Religion Overlap?

Science and Religion: Reconcilable Differences: https://undsci.berkeley.edu/article/science_religion

Peters’ Typology: https://counterbalance.org/ghc-outl/peter-body.html

Worldviews about Science, Religion, and Reality

The Counterbalance Foundation: https://counterbalance.org/ghc-outl/logie-body.html

Too Much Faith in Science?

Evangelical Atheism Today: A Response to Richard Dawkins: https://counterbalance.org/new-atheism/index-frame.html

Is Science Value-Free?

Science Has Limits: https://undsci.berkeley.edu/article/0_0_0/whatisscience_12

Calling for Education Reform in Science

Understanding Science: https://undsci.berkeley.edu/index.php

About Understanding Science: https://undsci.berkeley.edu/about.php

Why God is Not a Scientific Hypothesis– And Why We Would Not Want Him To Be

Science has limits: https://undsci.berkeley.edu/article/0_0_0/whatisscience_12

What About Evolution?

For the “Miriam on Evolution” link, you will just have to read my book

Does Evolution Support Atheism?

Dave’s post: http://www.mormonsandscience.com/religion--science-blog/whats-up-with-atheism-and-agnosticism-in-science

Methodological naturalism quote: https://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Intelligent_design

Fertile Common Ground: Conservation

Alliance of Religions and Conservation: http://www.arcworld.org/

Forum on Religion and Ecology: http://fore.research.yale.edu/cgi-sys/suspendedpage.cgi

Society for Conservation Biology: https://conbio.org/

Religion and Conservation Biology resource page: https://conbio.org/groups/working-groups/religion-and-conservation-biology/resources5

Fact or Theory?: Getting it Right

UC Berkeley Understanding Science website: https://undsci.berkeley.edu/teaching/misconceptions.php#a1

See more on testability: https://undsci.berkeley.edu/article/0_0_0/whatisscience_05

See “Falsifiable” here: https://undsci.berkeley.edu/teaching/misconceptions.php#a1

Understanding Science Project summarizes: https://undsci.berkeley.edu/article/0_0_0/howscienceworks_19

Proving the Impossible is Probably Implausible

Kenneth R. Miller quote is found in the post, “A Most Exquisite Little Creature.”

 

Cattle Farm Ruminations (pun intended)

Late last night I received a text from a neighbor indicating that a mountain lion may have been spotted in our back pasture yesterday afternoon, chasing a deer. (No, mountain lions are not spotted-- let’s more clearly state that it may have been seen.) Other neighbors voiced skepticism, noting that they have lived here for thirty years and never seen a cougar down this low into the farmland, though they have seen cougars while riding horses in the hills not far from here. (Again, to be clear, it was the people, not the cougars, riding the horses. All kinds of fun misunderstandings you can create with this English language, aren’t there?) At any rate, whether there actually was a cougar in our pasture yesterday or not, the very thought brings up an interesting question: Would you want to live in a place where the sighting of a cougar… or a coyote, skunk, or porcupine… is not an impossible occurrence? Are you willing to risk the loss of a pet cat or goat, some ill smells, or occasional quills in your dog’s nose? You can probably guess my answer-- after all, just such a place is where I am choosing to live. And, quite frankly, the howl of the coyotes at night thrills me to the core.

I am reminded of a conversation I had as a graduate student with a ranch owner, as I stood at her front door asking permission to look at the ground squirrel population on her property. She could not understand why in the world I would be concerned about those little varmints in her pasture that created holes that could break the leg of a calf. (Meaning, of course, not the calf part of a leg, but the legs of baby cattle.) I truly did sympathize with the personal and financial loss broken calf legs would mean for her and her family. She had to make sure she could make ends meet each year, and a reduction in the number of calves could have devastating financial consequences. I sympathize with her situation even more now that my family is raising calves on our small farm, hoping they will stay healthy and grow large. (Although, I personally wouldn’t mind a reduction in the size of my calves of the non-cattle variety, if you know what I mean.)

Because my grandfathers were farmers, I know that farmers and ranchers are usually people who care about their animals and who love the land and being close to it. Many of them have a deep, even spiritual, connection with the land and a down-to-earth (of course) understanding of where their blessings come from. My own love for the land and its Creator stems from my farming heritage. Similarly, as I stood on the front step and spoke with the rancher that day, it was clear that she was a kind and good person, and I understood her concerns for her animals and her way of life. However, I tried, with very little success, to expand her vision a little bit to future generations by explaining the role those “varmints” play on her ranch. I explained that ground-dwelling rodents are very important in soil aeration, water infiltration, and bringing nutrients under the soil, resulting in increased plant productivity. Studies have shown that when rodents are removed from grazed lands, the soil becomes more compacted and less productive over time, and weedier, less-nutritious plants, like cheat grass, are more likely to take over. Rodents also provide a food base for larger animals, such as badgers, snakes, weasels, owls and hawks. “And who wants those?” some would ask. So we are back to the same question we asked about the cougar: Do you want to live in a world with a diversity of species, or do you want a “safe” world of cheat grass, cattle, and starlings? The catch is that such a simplified world would not be safe at all: without biological diversity, a natural system is not resilient to catastrophic events in the short term, nor is it sustainable in the long term. In other words, if this rancher wanted her farm to be viable and productive by the time her great-grandchildren inherit it, she would need to leave the ground squirrels right where they were and put up with one or two broken calf legs each year. But no one wants to hear that when their concern is turning a profit this year. Surely there are situations in which some (hopefully moderate) forms of pest control become necessary and appropriate for crop or animal production. It’s a very complex and sticky issue, and the answers are not always clear-cut. But in our efforts for better production in the short term, we must not leave an impoverished landscape behind us, or we will undo our own well-being in the long run.

In the end, this woman, while admitting that I seemed like a good-hearted person, indicated that I was wasting my good intentions on the wrong causes. I went away disheartened and wondering what my own farmer grandfather would think of me going from ranch to ranch asking about their ground squirrels. At another location, the farmer allowed me to study the ground squirrels in one of his fields, while across the road, he set about poisoning a different species of ground squirrel in another field. We worked within sight of each other, on opposite sides of the road, one of us to preserve and the other to eradicate. Yet the few conversations we had were pleasant and friendly, centering around our shared love of the land. Each of us starts with a different understanding, a different inheritance of experience and teaching, and there are no easy questions when it comes to how we are best going to use the beautiful creations God has given us. But each of us must at the very least be aware of the level of reverence we hold in our hearts for what we have been given, the freedom God has afforded us in using it as we will, and the ultimate accounting we surely will be asked to make for why we lived as we did.

If a cougar really does show up in our back pasture, and when we inevitably lose a cat to a coyote or a hawk, I hope I will always return thanks to the Creator for His diverse, interconnected, and magnificent creatures and the chance I have to watch His wondrous systems in action. I trust that He knows what He’s doing, and that He put each of these things here for a reason.

Proving the Impossible is Probably Implausible

Recently, while speaking to a group about science and religion, I was reminded of a recurring theme that seems to crop up whenever I ask people to think about science and religion at the same time. It is the tendency in our society, whenever we are trying to be persuasive, to give preference to ideas that sound scientific, even when we are discussing topics that are not scientific. An interesting twist on this theme, which often arises from the religious end of the spectrum, is the attempt to use scientific argument to demonstrate the inadequacy of science itself.

In the preceding post, I discussed the tendency of some religious people to turn to “scientific”-type arguments to justify their belief, just as many atheists turn to “scientific”-type arguments to justify their disbelief. As mentioned there, neither type of argument fits the criteria required for scientific hypotheses, and both rely on untestable theological or philosophical assumptions. However, on closer examination, the science-like but religiously motivated arguments we most commonly encounter today would more appropriately be termed “anti-scientific” arguments, because they focus on the inability of science to explain natural phenomena. These usually take the form of trying to calculate the improbability of a natural event or the impossibility of explaining the origin of a cellular component. (In other words, they try to invent scientific processes that will demonstrate that scientific processes are inadequate; hmmm….) At any rate, the reasoning is that if science can’t explain something, that is evidence for God. I am very wary of such arguments for several reasons:

First, let’s remind ourselves what we mean when we say that science is limited. We mean that there are some realms of reality that science cannot address-- certain kinds of questions it can’t ask, because they aren’t physically testable. Anything in the natural realm, on the other hand, is fair game for the explanations of science. It is philosophically incorrect to state that science cannot explain a given natural phenomenon, because that is exactly the realm science is designed to explain. Science may not have explained it yet, but that doesn’t mean it can’t-- just wait a few years, and it may. So let’s be accurate when stating what kinds of things science cannot explain.

Second, it is simply incorrect logic to use things science hasn’t explained yet as evidence that God must have been at work. The present lack of a natural explanation does not automatically prove a supernatural one. Furthermore, this kind of argument creates the impression that God can only be invoked as a cause when there is no other possible explanation. It sets up a false dichotomy between things that are “natural” or explainable and things that God did. I find this position untenable, because I believe God can and does work through natural means, and/or he allows natural means to work. True faith acknowledges the presence of God in both the explained and the yet unexplained.

Third, using unexplained things to argue for God requires that once a natural explanation is found, arguments in favor of God must retreat to another unknown area. Thus, as more and more of nature succumbs to the explanations of science, proponents of anti-science arguments retreat further and further into the cell, grasping at molecular straws to verify their faith. It has reached the point that people argue heatedly over whether or not we can explain the origin of bacterial flagella, as if a final decision for or against God hinges on the answer to that question. God has been backed into hotly-contested corners, where physical tests become the criteria for belief. This does a disservice to religion, whose strength should lie in the power of faith to see beyond the physical. Faith in God lies not in statistical tests or molecular analyses, but in a pure and simple witness to our spirits, a process that is entirely outside of but not inconsistent with the scientific method.

Fourth, stating, “science can’t explain this, therefore: God,” simply invites the opposition to state, “science can explain this, therefore: no God.” While these two inverse statements are not logical equivalents, people treat them as if they were. That is, neither statement is philosophically correct, and one does not logically imply the other, but using one certainly invites the other, just the same. Most of the arguments we see flying around these days, on both sides, fall into this category of logical error and unenlightened contention.

And finally, the claim that God can be proven by observing things that defy natural explanation fosters a reliance on miracles (used here to mean things beyond our current comprehension) to produce faith. Undoubtedly, miracles can reinforce faith, but they are not to be relied upon or even sought after for the purpose of creating faith. I am greatly bothered by the suggestion that something I don’t understand would lead me to believe in God, while something I can understand would lead me to find him unnecessary. Faith is not based on ignorance; it is a trust based on experience. Furthermore, if a miracle is something beyond our current comprehension, does it follow that comprehending it would make it any less wonderful? I think not. In fact, in my experience, the more one begins to understand the components, complexity, and processes involved in the world around us, the greater the awe it inspires. I, for one, hope that science does find explanations for more and more things, because learning the details of the natural processes God has employed enhances my understanding and worship of him. (I would refer you once again to the Kenneth R. Miller quote, here.)

It is my experience that those who would prove God by rejoicing in the ignorance or incompleteness of science have fundamentally misunderstood the functions of both science and religion. When the nature of science is misconstrued to be a threat to faith, the all-too-common response is to turn to physical arguments for God, an approach which undermines the function of religion to tell us of things beyond our current sight. Both science and religion, powerful tools of learning, deserve better than to be dragged into the mud of misrepresentation and dispute. In a vast universe infused with light, life, and wonder, let us not sit in dark corners, arguing over bacterial flagella, as if our puny understanding could stake an intellectual claim for or against a Master of that universe. Rather, let us all have the humility to recognize that none of us knows very much, yet, but we may all rejoice in the process of seeking after the answers, whether in the realm of science, religion, or both. Any increase in our understanding, in either arena, is to be celebrated.

Nature as a Witness

I still remember the first time I learned about the cellular process of DNA transcription and mRNA translation-- the process by which the DNA “tells” the cell what protein to make. I was in eighth grade, and my marvelous biology teacher, whom I credit with inspiring my career, was diagramming the details on the chalkboard with fat, neon-colored chalk. As I began to grasp the beautiful intricacy, precision, and sheer genius of that complex molecular process, tingles of excitement literally went up and down my spine. It was the most breathtakingly elegant thing I had ever seen! In that moment of awe and wonder, I also experienced a profound witness in my heart that there is indeed a Creator.

In the time since then, I have learned that while many, probably most, of my fellow scientists frequently experience a deep sense of wonder for nature, not all of them feel the accompanying spiritual witness of God that I experience in such moments. Certainly some of them do, but there are many who feel a reverent awe for nature without ever feeling or acknowledging the Deity responsible for it. It is obvious that having a detailed understanding of or an emotionally moving experience with God’s creation does not, in and of itself, confer a belief in God. These are separate kinds of knowledge. I’m not only talking about the difference between scientific and other kinds of knowledge, which I have discussed at length on this blog, but also the difference between an emotional experience with nature’s wonders and a spiritual experience with God.

Because believers very often do feel a connection between the natural world and spiritual experience, it is understandable and appropriate that they tend to cite natural wonders as inspiration for their belief, as in one of my favorite hymns, "How Great Thou Art." However, I have observed the tendency of some of my fellow believers to veer off into presenting “scientific” reasons nature gives us to believe in God. Rather than testifying of the spiritual witness they have received through observing nature, they begin talking about the probability of molecular events or about the structural complexity of little cellular machines, as if these were scientific evidence for God. While I would never want to downplay the witness they may have received through such knowledge, just as I experienced in eighth grade biology class, I feel an obligation to remind them that such examples are not scientific proof of God, nor does the wonder they inspire equate to a witness. Usually, we are not going to convince someone else to believe in God simply by detailing the magnificent structure of a bacterial flagellum, and usually, these kinds of “proofs,” offered to non-believers, quickly become contentious.

It is interesting to note that in the cultural war between science and religion, people on both ends of the spectrum resort to arguments that sound scientific (but which, on close inspection, are not) in order to prove or disprove God. For example, on one end, Richard Dawkins shows why molecular evidence refutes the kind of God he imagines (his theological and philosophical assumptions), and on the other end, Michael Behe tries to demonstrate molecular evidence for the kind of God he imagines (his philosophical and theological assumptions), while neither acknowledges the utter inability of science to verify their beginning assumptions. It’s almost as if our whole society tacitly acknowledges that scientific arguments are really the only kind that can be convincing and dismisses arguments about deeper meaning. While limiting questions in this way is appropriate and necessary within science, outside of the realm of science it is utterly absurd. Jewish journalist Yuval Levin has stated:

""[... We] have become all too accustomed to asking only scientific questions, and this is the true source of our problems. . . .

“Science cannot search for meaning. In the study of nature, this handicap is not debilitating, since we do not need to grasp for meaning, or even to believe there is any, in order to develop a useful understanding of the natural world. But this handicap becomes a complete paralysis when the scientist turns his attention toward man. The scientific method is fundamentally incapable of providing us with a meaningful understanding of nearly anything about the life of man as he experiences it. And yet, the success of science in other realms convinces us that anything it cannot tell us could not be worth knowing. It teaches us to be satisfied with incomplete answers, and tells us that our search for meaning is misguided." (from Tyranny of Reason: The Origins and Consequences of the Social Scientific Outlook, p. xvii.)

Of course, our search for meaning is not misguided. What is misguided is the tendency in our society to want to “prove” or “disprove” things of meaning by resorting to science. Science can give us an idea of how things work, but it cannot give us a reason to care.

At the end of the day, God is not known to us through probability distributions, the composition of cellular structures, or the behavior of subatomic particles. He is known through a quiet witness to our minds and hearts. No amount of physical evidence can substitute for or negate that witness, but once that witness is obtained, then all of nature begins to testify to us of a Creator.

Fact or Theory?: Getting it Right

Recently, I met a college student whose professor had told her that it is a fact that all living organisms are descended from a single life form. I quickly informed her that her professor was wrong-- that is not a fact, it is one hypothesis that stems from the theory of evolution. However, lest this student use the idea that evolution is “only a theory” to dismiss it entirely without giving it an honest look, I hastened to add that a theory, or even a hypothesis, is far from being a guess. I later wished that I had had time to explain the difference between fact, hypothesis, and theory-- for all of these have definitions in science, which differ from how they are often used in the vernacular. So, in regret that I cannot explain it to her in person, I will explain it here, hoping it will be helpful to someone else whose professor has made or will make the same mistake.

First, fact:

I love what one of my old ecology textbooks says about this: It defines facts as “particular truths of the natural world” and then goes on to state, “The notion of truth is a profound one that philosophers discuss in detail and scientists just assume is simple. Truth consists of correspondence with the facts.” (Krebs 2001:13, 14)

This sounds circular, but it’s really just saying that facts are things that are true. Furthermore, facts are true whether or not we know or understand them correctly:

“[scientists] make observations, which may be faulty, and consequently every observation is not automatically a fact.” (Krebs 2001:13)

The UC Berkeley “Understanding Science” website defines it this way:

“Fact: Statement that is known to be true through direct observation. Since scientific ideas are inherently tentative, the term fact is more meaningful in everyday language than in the language of science.”

In other words, in the actual doing and reporting of science, “fact” isn’t a term we use a lot. (Also note an idea we discussed in a previous post, that scientific knowledge is tentative.) Here is a very relevant example:

"[In] scientific thinking ...we can only be completely confident about relatively simple statements. For example, it may be a fact that there are three trees in your backyard. However, our knowledge of how all trees are related to one another is not a fact; it is a complex body of knowledge based on many different lines of evidence and reasoning that may change as new evidence is discovered and as old evidence is interpreted in new ways. Though our knowledge of tree relationships is not a fact, it is broadly applicable, useful in many situations, and synthesizes many individual facts into a broader framework. Science values facts but recognizes that many forms of knowledge are more powerful than simple facts.” (UC Berkeley link above)

Hm, what an intriguing statement! Knowledge that is more powerful than facts? Read on!

Next, hypothesis:

Once a scientist has some observations in hand, he/she formulates a possible explanation consistent with everything else he/she already knows. This possible explanation is a hypothesis, and it must be stated in a way that allows it to be tested by experiment or further observation. A hypothesis makes predictions about future observations, and if these predictions are actually observed, the hypothesis is supported. Observations contrary to the predictions would help refute the hypothesis. Remember that testability and falsifiability are flip-sides of the same coin; for a hypothesis to be scientific, it must be possible in principle to gather evidence that would support or refute it. (See more on testability, and see “Falsifiable” here for further clarification of these terms.) Even so, we can never prove or disprove a hypothesis with absolute certainty.

Finally, theory:

Again, the Understanding Science project summarizes well (they make my job a lot easier!):

“Theory: In science, a broad, natural explanation for a wide range of phenomena. Theories are concise, coherent, systematic, predictive, and broadly applicable, often integrating and generalizing many hypotheses. Theories accepted by the scientific community are generally strongly supported by many different lines of evidence-but even theories may be modified or overturned if warranted by new evidence and perspectives.”

And (still quoting from the above link) here is a further point I wish to emphasize:

“Occasionally, scientific ideas (such as biological evolution) are written off with the putdown "it's just a theory." This slur is misleading and conflates two separate meanings of the word theory: in common usage, the word theory means just a hunch, but in science, a theory is a powerful explanation for a broad set of observations. To be accepted by the scientific community, a theory (in the scientific sense of the word) must be strongly supported by many different lines of evidence. So biological evolution is a theory (it is a well-supported, widely accepted, and powerful explanation for the diversity of life on Earth), but it is not "just" a theory.”

Nor, I would add, is it as simple as fact. A theory, by definition, is an overarching, explanatory idea that rests upon numerous facts and hypotheses. It is a BIG, HUGE, elegant idea that squares (at least so far) with many facts we have in our possession… insofar as we can tell that they are facts. A theory is also generative, spurring new hypotheses and avenues of research in an organic, ongoing process that is never complete. And, as with any scientific idea, some aspects of a theory may turn out to be right, and some may turn out to be wrong-- and we can’t tell the difference yet. Moreover, a theory can remain well-supported and valid as a research scaffolding, despite the incompleteness of some of its sub-elements. For example, it may turn out that we have correctly understood the basic laws of inheritance that lead to genetic changes in a population over time, while a complete family tree linking all life forms to a common ancestor remains elusive. Both of these ideas fit under the umbrella of “The Theory of Evolution,” and either of them may (and probably will) be modified as our understanding… er, evolves. Hence, no one who understands the breadth and dynamic function of theory would be so simplistic as to equate it with fact.

So… the next time someone tells you that evolution is a fact, you can tell them with great enthusiasm that on the contrary, evolution is not a fact; it is much more than only facts-- it is a theory! How exciting is that?! (You may want to explain this using large hand gestures, indicating that, in science, theory is a BIG thing compared to fact.)

And then, if they ask you whether you believe in it, you can tell them that while a theory is well supported by multiple lines of evidence, putting absolute faith in a scientific theory is not scientific. No one can fault you for refusing to commit your final opinion, because science does not have the final word. And that’s a fact.