Monkey Trial or Kangaroo Court?
By Stan Cox, AlterNet
May 19, 2005
http://www.alternet.org/story/22042/
The hours passed, and the chilling phrases kept on coming:
"security police," "fear and tension," "significant personal
sanctions," "enforcement of the Rule," "suppression of
evidence," "conflict of conscience," "trampling on those who
believe man is purposed."
The man on the stage might well have been talking about life
in a totalitarian state, but John Calvert, a lawyer who
directs the Intelligent Design Network of Shawnee Mission,
Kan., was describing the state of science education in America.
For three days in May, in a cramped auditorium across the
street from the Kansas Capitol building, Calvert and his 22
witnesses -- scientists, philosophers, teachers, and other
scholars -- painted a picture of evolutionary biology as a
tyrannical, "naturalistic" discipline that can be salvaged
only by letting the bright light of the supernatural ****ne in.
Witness Nancy Bryson told the story of how she lost her
position as head of the Department of Science and
Mathematics at Mississippi University for Women after she
spoke out against evolution in 2003. After that, she said,
other faculty members would slip into her office after hours
to talk with her about the situation, saying that it was
"not safe" to talk openly.
California high school teacher Roger DeHart testified that
administrators reassigned him from biology to earth science
because he had been telling students about what he called
the "misrepresentation" of evolution as an explanation for
life. When the controversy eventually forced DeHart to move
to a different school, he was warned by one of his new
colleagues, "I'll be keeping an eye on you."
When parents complained that her by-the-book teaching of
evolution showed "humanistic bias" and asked her for her
personal opinion, Kansas high school teacher Jill
Gonzales-Bravo could only tell them, "I don't feel at
liberty to discuss it." She felt compelled to testify at the
Topeka hearings, she said, despite her fear that it was "not
really a [good] career move."
Creationism Reincarnated
For a brief period between 1999 and 2001, Kansas science
teachers had labored under state standards that
de-emphasized evolution. In 2004, voters once more gave
conservative religious members a majority on the state's
Board of Education; as a result, science standards are to be
rewritten yet again, in a way that deprecates evolution and
permits discussion of intelligent design.
"ID," as it's often called, is the idea that natural
processes cannot account for the appearance of new species
of plants and animals throughout the earth's history -- that
although genetic diversity may ****ft around a lot within
species, the species themselves were designed by an entity
outside of nature.
Mainstream scientists are nearly unanimous in rejecting ID,
which they say is just a reincarnation of old-fa****oned
biblical creationism, carefully articulated to avoid going
afoul of the Constitution.
In March, a 26-member writing committee assigned by the
Board submitted a new draft of science standards that was,
well, standard stuff. But eight dissenters on the committee
submitted an alternative version that included
anti-evolution language. Board members who liked the
alternative version decided to schedule hearings for early
May in Topeka, to weigh the relative merits of the competing
drafts.
Calvert's witnesses turned out in force. Their side was
coming off a big win in Ohio, where, in 2002, they had
fought for and gotten a change in school science standards.
They knew that Kansas, with a newly elected, pro-creation
majority on its school board, would be an easy mark.
But Kansas's mainstream biologists boycotted the hearings,
comparing them to the 1925 Scopes "Monkey Trial." They said
the outcome was already decided anyway, and that to defend
evolution in what they called a "kangaroo court" would only
give the proceedings a veneer of respectability they didn't
deserve.
'A Good Product'
At the hearings, witness after witness spoke of gaping holes
in evolutionary theory, the power of ID to fill those holes,
and ID's potential to give students the complete and
exciting science education they deserve.
Ohio biology teacher Bryan Leonard testified that he helped
write a state lesson plan called "Critical Analysis of
Evolution." He said he knows it's a "good product" because
of the overwhelmingly positive reaction from students: "The
key is to find out what students want and teach toward their
interests."
Daniel Ely, professor of biology at the University of Akron,
praised the Ohio plan, saying that when students are
presented a subject in the form of a controversy and are
permitted to argue one side or the other, they "take
owner****p" of the subject. "When I was a kid, we learned
about Communism," he said. "You have to understand both sides."
Philosophy professor Warren Nord of the University of North
Carolina, declaring himself a "liberal in every sense,"
explained that justice demands inclusion of religious groups
in classroom discussion, just as it has ensured that "women
and blacks" are included.
John Sanford, Courtesy Associate Professor of Horticulture
at Cornell and co-inventor of a "gene gun" for incor****ating
DNA into cells, said that as he sees it, evolution through
natural selection is "amazingly not true, which is very
exciting." Arguing that that's the kind of excitement needed
in the classroom, Sanford said, "Being able to discuss their
doubts is awesome for students."
For three days, witnesses delivered a message of openness,
fairness, and democracy, declaring that when it comes to
biology in the classroom, "you have to let students follow
the evidence wherever it leads." And judging from their
testimony, all roads lead to intelligent design.
The biologists, chemists, and biochemists who spoke in favor
of ID made a host of well-worn points that are regularly
debunked by the scientific majority. (The pro-ID argument is
laid out in detail on the Center for Science and Culture
website of the Seattle-based Discovery Institute. Mainstream
explanations of evolution as a natural process are well
described for the non-scientist on the Kansas Citizens for
Science site and a Science and Creationism publication by
the National Academy of Sciences.)
Scientists boycotting the hearings, including members of
Kansas Citizens for Science, kept an eye on the proceedings
while they staffed a press-relations center on the fifth
floor of the capitol. Among their many charges was that
pro-ID forces had simply inserted into the science standards
a lot of inflammatory language ("an unpredictable and
unguided natural process"; "no discernable direction or
goal") that was meant to make evolution sound "atheistic."
And by the time the hearings adjourned on Saturday evening,
Calvert and his witnesses had made it clear that the formula
"evolution = atheism" did indeed lie at the core of their
legal case for the new standards.
Atheistic Darwinists
The language of the testimony was largely academic, but the
tone was at times reminiscent of an old-time revival
meeting. Conversion experiences were the rule.
This was how witness James Barham, "independent scholar" and
Ph.D. candidate at Notre Dame, introduced his testimony: "I
was a convinced atheist Darwinist for 20 years. Slowly, it
dawned on me that my interest in the spiritual side of
humanity could not be reconciled with my study of science."
Jill Gonzales-Bravo: "At Kansas State University I learned
quickly that anyone who believed differently [from evolution
through natural selection] was not a true intellectual. I
became part of the liberal movement and went into the Peace
Corps. But I had children and my worldview changed." She
came to see that "evolution takes from students the belief
that they are here for a purpose."
John Sanford: "Most of my career I was an atheistic
evolutionist. Then I became a theistic evolutionist and
finally a biblical Christian. My belief in evolution had
been based solely on authority. To the atheist, there is no
alternative hypothesis."
Just Confused
The Board of Education had appointed Topeka attorney Pedro
Irigonegaray to argue the case for the science standards
drafted by the writing committee's 18-member majority. With
the scientific boycott in place, Irigonegaray's chief task
was to cross-examine the pro-ID witnesses.
In Summer for the Gods (1997), a history of the notorious
Monkey Trial held in Dayton, Tenn. 80 years ago, author
Edward Larson noted that when cross-examining adversary
William Jennings Bryan, Clarence Darrow avoided questions
that would allow Bryan to "answer with his well-honed
remarks" about the deficiencies of evolution. Rather than
give Bryan a "soapbox for his speeches," Darrow focused on
exposing him as a religious extremist.
Irigonegaray appeared to be following Darrow's example. He
steered clear of most scientific issues, attempting instead
to demonstrate the fundamentally religious nature of the
witnesses' arguments. (To back up his contention that ID is
a fringe theory even in the religious sphere, Irigonegaray
read from a do***ent signed by more than 3,700 clergy. An
Open Letter Concerning Religion and Science praises the
theory of evolution as "a core component of human knowledge.")
He asked James Barham, as he did several of the witnesses,
if teaching evolution to Kansas children was equivalent to
teaching materialism and atheism. "That depends on how it's
interpreted by the child," said Barham. "But that is the
framework. Teachers who disagree with that framework should
be allowed to teach as they feel is right."
He asked Angus Menuge, a professor of philosophy at
Concordia University, "How do you explain the many theists,
including evangelical Christians, who don't see [evolution
through natural mechanisms] as a contradiction of faith?"
Menuge didn't flinch: "Some of those people are just confused."
During the two days of hearings that I attended,
Irigonegaray began his cross-examination of each witness
with the same three questions. In response to the first,
"What, in your personal opinion, is the age of the earth?"
nine witnesses cited the widely accepted figure of around
4.5 billion years.
Other witnesses bowed at least somewhat to biblical
orthodoxy. Gene-gun inventor Sanford put the earth's age at
"maybe 10,000 years" but "not as young as 5,000." Pressed
for an answer, Roger DeHart finally concluded that "I'm fine
with" an estimate of 5,000 to 100,000 years. Daniel Ely and
Nancy Bryson gave themselves plenty of room for maneuver,
putting the earth's age at somewhere "between 5,000 and 4.5
billion years."
Irigonegaray's second and third questions went to the core
of what ID proponents call "the controversy." He asked each
witness if she or he agreed that life as we see it today is
the result of "common descent" (that is, that species evolve
from other species through purely natural causes) and that
humans are descended from pre-hominid ancestors. Eleven of
13 witnesses rejected both statements, with varying degrees
of force.
Pressed to provide an alternative explanation for the origin
of the human species, some witnesses declined, while others
offered earnest responses:
"Design, which implies a designer, but we don't go there."
"A creator, but I wouldn't expect the State to teach that."
"An intelligent designer, based on my theistic views."
"Humans and the non-human living world have qualitatively
different features that are very mysterious."
"God, by special creation."
Warren Nord enthusiastically recommended that schools should
wrap every subject, including biology, in its religious and
philosophical context. An incredulous Irigonegaray asked
him, "Is it im****tant to have religion taught in economics
class?"
Nord: "Yes."
Irigonegaray: "What about math class?"
Nord: "I can make a case for that."
Several witnesses flatly refused to discuss their personal
religious views, but only one of them was explicit about
being a non-Christian. Mustafa Akyol of the International
Dialogue Platform in Istanbul, Turkey argued that opening
biology cl***** to ID in the United States would do wonders
for our relations with the Muslim world. Muslims today, he
said, are alienated by the West's materialism, which
"includes atheistic philosophy."
Apparently, Calvert had invited Akyol in order to
demonstrate that the ID camp pitches a big tent. But Akyol
himself may be more of a small-tent kind of guy. The week of
the hearings, Kansas City's Pitch Weekly re****ted that Akyol
is associated with a cultish organization called Bilim
Arastirma Vakfi, which has harassed, threatened and
slandered Turkish academics who teach evolution.
Keeping the Designer Under Wraps
A biology teacher who discusses with her students the case
for intelligent design -- as she would be allowed to do
under the alternative science standards -- might well be
asked by students, "So, tell me, who or what did the
designing?" At the hearing, most witnesses wanted to discuss
only design, not a designer. That often required some fancy
footwork. Here is Irigonegaray's exchange with Russell
Carlson, professor of biochemistry and microbiology at the
University of Georgia:
Irigonegaray: "The intelligent designer is God?"
Carlson: "Well, yeah, I'd agree with that."
Irigonegaray: "Science should be neutral with respect to
religion?"
Carlson: "Yeah."
Irigonegaray: "But intelligent design places faith in . . . "
Carlson: "No, the designer is neutral."
Irigonegaray: "You said the designer is God."
Carlson: "We shouldn't discuss the identity [in the classroom]."
Irigonegaray: "We should keep that a secret?"
Carlson: "When children have questions about the materialist
explanation, we now send them to their parents or pastors.
Instead, design should be offered as an explanation."
Carlson later added that if a child asks about the identity
of the designer, that is the point at which he or she should
be sent to a parent or pastor.
Following Angus Menuge's testimony, I asked him what should
happen when children ask, "Who's the designer?" Menuge said,
"You should cut off discussion at that point, and pursue it
in a forum other than the classroom."
But it will be teachers and administrators, not university
professors, who determine what actually happens in Kansas
public schools under the new standards -- and the pro-ID
members of the state Board of Education do not appear to be
so cir***spect when it comes to religion. During an
intermission, I asked board member Kathy Martin whether, as
Menuge suggested, a teacher should cut off discussion of the
designer's identity.
"Oh, no," she said. "If a student wants to have that
conversation, there's nothing wrong with the teacher
discussing that. It's all about the students' needs, and as
you know, they have a lot of needs these days. I was a
teacher myself. If, say, a student's puppy has been run over
by a car, the student and I might pray about it together,
privately. It's not about religion -- it's about helping the
student."
Connie Morris, another pro-ID school board member, told me,
"No, we can't mandate intelligent design or creationism in
the school standards. But as the fellow from Ohio said, we
have to let students go where the evidence leads. I'll give
you an example. Did you know there is evidence now that
prayer is beneficial in treating cancer?" I asked if
teachers should be able to teach about that. Morris, her
eyes brightening, said, "Absolutely!"
Those school board members gave substance to a scenario
foreseen by Harry McDonald, spokesperson for Kansas Citizens
for Science: "They don't even have to introduce ID into the
standards. All they need is for a child to ask about it, and
that will open the classroom door to religion."
The Legal Strategy
The final witness was Calvert himself, who announced that he
planned to file "an extensive legal brief" in the coming
days that would provide the basis for revising the science
standards to allow ID. His legal argument, which had been
implicit in all of his questioning of witnesses, goes like
this:
(1) Evolution as it's now taught in Kansas schools is based
on methodological naturalism, that is, the search by science
for explanations only in the natural world.
(2) Methodological naturalism always implies philosophical
naturalism, the belief that there is nothing beyond the
natural world. (This, say anti-ID scientists, is the fatal
flaw in the argument.)
(3) Philosophical naturalism is atheistic.
(4) Atheism is a religion. (Needless to say, this is a
proposition not universally accepted.)
(5) Therefore, religion is already being taught in Kansas
biology cl*****.
(6) So religious fairness requires that evidence for
intelligent design and against evolution through natural
selection also be allowed in the classroom.
By arguing, implicitly, that the supernatural should be
introduced into science curricula alongside "naturalistic"
ideas, Calvert is relying on the federal government's No
Child Left Behind Act, which requires that teaching be
"secular, neutral, and non-ideological" with respect to
religion.
For three long days, many in the audience had been wondering
which witnesses were correct -- those who said the new
standards would not inject religion into the curriculum or
those who said or implied that they would.
In his testimony, Calvert cleared up that confusion. To meet
the legal requirement of neutrality as he defined it,
schools either must allow religious teaching in biology
cl***** or else allow nothing at all to be taught about how
biological species come to be.
The ID forces' reliance on federal law is significant. After
the hearings, Irigonegaray told re****ters, "What we saw in
there was religious extremism, and what we are seeing in
Kansas is happening all across this country."
Adding to that, Harry McDonald of KCS noted that only four
of the nearly two dozen witnesses were from Kansas. "They
had to scour the nation to find enough people to testify.
With a word, we could have had thousands of Kansas
scientists here to sup****t evolution."
But this struggle is unlikely to be decided in the
scientific arena. In America, where polls have shown that a
majority believe in some form of creationism and want it
taught in their schools, it's easy to ****tray the defenders
of biological evolution as anti-democratic, overly educated
elitists.
One KCS scientist provided this understated *****sment of
the hearings' outcome: "Looking around at the audience in
there, I realized that we do have a communication problem."
By walking a couple of hundred steps from the door of the
hearing room, witnesses and audience members would have
found a reminder that Kansas has been an ideological
battleground longer that it has been a state. In a hall just
off the Capitol rotunda is John Steuart Curry's great mural
of John Brown towering over Union and Confederate forces as
he brandishes a rifle in one hand and a bible in the other.
Then as now, Kansas was a magnet for out-of-state religious
radicals. But then, a century and a half ago, they were on
the right side of history.
Someday, historians may kick around the question of who was
right and who was wrong in the Kansas battle over science
education. The state's schoolchildren also will be weighing
that question, and they won't have to wait very long for the
chance to do so. Their new science standards are due out
this summer.
Stan Cox lives in Salina, Kan. He has a Ph.D. in plant
breeding and cytogenetics and has been a plant breeder for
22 years.
http://www.alternet.org/story/22042/
--
Dan Clore
My collected fiction, _The Unspeakable and Others_:
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/1587154838/thedanclorenecro/
Lord We˙rdgliffe & Necronomicon Page:
http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/9879/
News & Views for Anarchists & Activists:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/smygo
Strange pleasures are known to him who flaunts the
immarcescible purple of poetry before the color-blind.
-- Clark Ashton Smith, "Epigrams and Apothegms"
|
