BOOK REVIEW
Reason and Reverence
Robert J. Richards
The Language of God: A Scientist Presents Evidence for
Belief. Francis S. Collins. viii + 295 pp. Free Press, 2006. $26.
In 1914, James Leuba, a psychologist at Bryn Mawr, conducted several
surveys of scientists and college students regarding their religious
beliefs, publishing his findings in a 1916 book titled The
Belief in God and Immortality. Among scientists generally,
41.8 percent indicated they were believers in a personal God
(defined as a being to whom one could pray, expecting a response),
whereas 41.5 percent expressed disbelief in such a God and 16.7
percent declared themselves to be agnostic. Among elite scientists
(those with an asterisk by their names in James McKean Cattell's
American Men of Science), the percentage of believers
was lower, at 31.6 percent. Among elite biologists, the subset who
believed in God was even smaller—16.9 percent. In 1996 and
1998, Edward Larson and Larry Witham replicated Leuba's study,
publishing their findings in the April 23, 1997, and July 23, 1998,
issues of Nature. Their surveys revealed that of all
scientists questioned, 39.3 percent professed belief in a personal
God, about the same as in the 1914 study. However, among elite
scientists—now defined as members of the National Academy of
Sciences—the proportion who were believers had plummeted to 7
percent, with biologists showing the least religious conviction at
5.5 percent. In the general population of the United States, some 86
percent profess belief in the existence of a personal God, according
to a 1999 Gallup poll. These figures dramatically indicate the great
no-mans land separating the religious convictions of ordinary
citizens from those of the scientific community, especially its
leading members. This dissensus has fueled many of the bitter
battles recently fought over evolution and stem cells and has
ignited explosive devices laid along several political byways.
By any measure, Francis Collins is an elite physician and research
biologist. He is the director of the National Human Genome Research
Institute at the National Institutes of Health; and after James
Watson left the U.S. Human Genome Project, Collins led a large,
far-flung team of researchers to bring the project to completion six
years ago. Before taking on this responsibility, he had helped
identify the genes causing cystic fibrosis, Huntington's disease and
several other genetic maladies. Currently his lab is searching for
the genes that produce progeria (acute premature aging), and his
group has already identified the genetic mutation that causes the
most severe form of the disease. Collins is also an Evangelical
Christian and is thus a member of that very small group of leading
scientists who confess belief in a personal God. His latest book,
The Language of God: A Scientist Presents Evidence for
Belief, attempts to show the compatibility of religious faith
and the best science, especially that science spelling out the
language of life, genomics.
The book is cast as both memoir and argument. The brief sections of
autobiography reveal not merely a dedicated scientist, but a caring
and morally sensitive human being—a modest man, but one whose
modesty cannot hide his accomplishments as a physician with deep
humanitarian concerns. In short compass, he traces his trajectory
from being a free-thinking atheist during his college years to
becoming a committed Christian shortly thereafter, one brought to
his faith by the examples of his suffering patients and the
persuasive considerations of C. S. Lewis, the Oxford don who wrote
such classics as The Chronicles of Narnia, Mere
Christianity and (an influential book for me) The Screwtape
Letters. Lewis's several tracts on Christian apologetics
provide Collins with the gist of many of his arguments.
The argumentative sections of The Language of God,
constituting the largest part, speak to two audiences, accomplished
scientists and committed believers. Specifically, Collins tries to
convince his scientific confreres that, as the subtitle of his book
indicates, there are good reasons for belief in a personal God; and
he seeks to demonstrate to members of the Christian community that
they have nothing to fear from advancing science, even evolutionary
biology. Collins's persuasive attempts are so well-intentioned and
his tone so congenial that you want to believe, but ultimately his
efforts are unlikely to succeed with either group.
A principal reason for his failure is that he employs strategies
that pull in opposite directions. First he argues that certain
empirical features of the universe and of human life can be
explained best by appeal to a divine designer; but he also maintains
that belief in God furnishes "the answer to questions science
was never intended to address, such as ‘How did the universe
get here?' ‘What is the meaning of life?' ‘What happens
to us after we die?'" If rationally ordered arguments based on
empirical evidence form the pith of science, then Collins does, in
fact, offer God as an answer to scientific questions; and if
religion has no bearing on rationally ordered empirical
observations, then it seems a bloodless set of dispensable concerns.
But let me examine the results of each of these strategies.
Two empirical phenomena helped convince Collins of the reality of
God's work in the world. First is the ubiquity of moral judgment.
All cultures seem to display notions of right and wrong conduct.
Especially salient in Collins's estimation is the altruistic
impulse, the pang of conscience when confronted by another in need.
By altruism he means acting for the benefit of another,
without thought of advantage to self. Only God, he believes, could
have implantedthis impulse in the human heart. But of course
biologists have tried to explain the near universality of morality
through evolutionary processes. Collins quickly dismisses these
attempts as unavailing: He rejects Richard Dawkins's view that
altruism is really the work of selfish genes, and E. O. Wilson's
theory of reciprocal altruism. Collins's quick retreat to divine
agency runs counter to his assertion that religious belief does not
attempt to answer scientific questions. In addition, his hasty
consideration of the problem will do little to expand the small
circle of scientists who are religious.
The other empirical consideration that seems probative to Collins is
a version of the anthropic principle: Had the physical constants of
the universe (for example, the slight asymmetry of matter and
antimatter after the Big Bang; the exact measure of the weak and
strong forces; the total mass of the universe during initial
expansion) been even a little different, then we would not be here.
Collins believes that because "the chance that all of these
constants would take on the values necessary to result in a stable
universe capable of sustaining complex life forms is almost
infinitesimal," the universe must have been designed with us in
mind. He examines the possibility that a cosmic lottery yielded an
untold number of failed universes, with only ours having the winning
combination. However, he concludes that this hypothesis of a
multiverse "strains credulity," as does the other
possibility that we are just plain lucky. So he thinks the evidence
"reflects the action of the one who created the universe in the
first place." The weirdness to common sense of a good deal of
physics and cosmology seems hardly the criterion on which to base
any metaphysical conclusions. Moreover, since the 18th century, wise
men, such as Immanuel Kant, have warned about the hazards of
reasoning conducted at the limits of human knowledge. I suspect
anthropic arguments of this sort will do little to increase the base
of scientific believers.
What about the other side, the religious community, whose members
may be wary of the conclusions of contemporary science? Collins
attempts to win them over by gently pointing out that it would be
unreasonable to take the Bible literally. The idea of a six-day
creation simply runs against the whole edifice of extremely
well-grounded science. He judiciously reminds the believer that
there are too many internal contradictions in the Bible (for
example, the two creation stories in the first two chapters of
Genesis) for its pronouncements to be taken as anything other than
metaphorical, designed to teach moral rather than empirical lessons.
After addressing the concerns of the more conservatively inclined,
Collins then looks to those who are ready to adopt faux science in
the guise of intelligent design. Against this latter group, he
rehearses certain facts of developmental genomics that seem to make
sense only under the theory of gradual descent with
modification—for example, the presence of similar truncated
(hence nonfunctioning) genes in the mouse and human genomes. Only a
devious God intent on shutting down our reason could provide an
alternative explanation.
Despite Collins's irenic efforts, the well-confirmed results of
modern evolutionary theory and genetics do endanger the faith of the
religiously minded. Or at least these results should make their
religious convictions more precarious.
Collins maintains, as did Darwin, that the moral impulse is an
essential component of our humanity. Yet if our various other human
traits—reason, personality, emotional responses and so
on—have arisen over the millennia through natural selection
(which Collins believes to be the case), why is it that only our
moral traits require divine intervention? Does not the ability to do
science, to create art and to appreciate the beauty of nature also
constitute what it means to be human? If these abilities have
evolved, why not also moral judgment?
In an appendix on bioethics, Collins reflects on several ethical
dilemmas that modern medical knowledge and technology have created,
not simply for the religiously minded. Embryonic stem cells hold
great promise for therapeutic use, since those initial cells forming
the developing fetus have the potential to turn into the cells of
any organ of the body—for example, brain, heart or liver. The
obvious source of stem cells for research and for use in potential
therapies is in the huge number of leftover embryos created through
in vitrofertilization but now lying useless in tanks of
liquid nitrogen, sooner or later to be destroyed. For those
convinced that human life begins at the moment of conception, the
harvesting of stem cells from these embryos, which would be
destroyed in the process, seems equivalent to homicide, even murder.
Collins balances this conservative view against the recognition that
these hundreds of thousands of embryos will eventually be destroyed
in any case. But he does leave the question hanging as to whether we
ought to salvage the embryos for good medical purposes. He thinks
this ethical dilemma can be avoided through the new technology of
somatic-cell nuclear transfer, the procedure that produced Dolly the
sheep. In this technique, the DNA from a somatic cell (for example,
a skin cell) is extracted and placed into a denucleated egg cell.
Collins believes that the initial stem cells of an embryo produced
by this method could be used for research and therapeutic purposes.
He regards the technology as morally acceptable because, unlike the
union of sperm and egg, somatic-cell nuclear transfer "does not
occur in nature, and is not part of God's plan to create a human
individual." This strikes me as suggesting that God has been a
bit shortsighted in his planning. Perhaps He also left out in
vitro fertilization? If so, it is hard to see, in light of
Collins's considerations, why this latter technology would not also
be a morally acceptable source of embryos for research. The train of
Collins's moral reasoning about stem cells has derailed. Here you
have an elite leader in a government agency ready to render an
influential judgment based, at least in part, on theological
estimates of God's long-term planning ability.
Throughout his book, and especially in his discussion of stemcell
techniques, one detects the man of science in Collins struggling
with the man of religion. He desperately wants reconciliation
between reason and faith but seems not always aware of the price
each side would pay. Despite his efforts to marshal rational,
scientific arguments for God's existence, he does in the end admit
that "belief in God will always require a leap of faith."
Collins has made the leap but still grasps after some very slippery
scientific handholds. He might have sought better resolution in the
interpretation offered by a Jesuit friend of mine of the line often
attributed to Tertullian: "credo quia absurdum
est"—since it is absurd, the only thing I can do is believe.