Taking it on faith?

Well, here's a surprise....or is it?  The NYTimes reports results from a survey that tests peoples' knowledge about religion.  And guess who know their faith the best?  Atheists, agnostics, Jews, and Mormons.  Other 'Christians' fared worse, often not knowing even basic things about the tenets of their faith.  (Here are the results of that survey.)

Well, ignorant and proud of it might be one response: the whole idea of religion to many is that it must be taken on faith. Let the pastor or priest tell you what's what.  Don't ask questions.

This might be OK in the sense that if religion can't be proven by scientific means, one must get it from the experts in costume who must somehow get it more directly and authoritatively.  Details don't matter. 

But this is a difficult position to square with the widespread aggressive assertions of religion against what we actually know about the world, the real one, the one we live in.  These assertions purport to give real-world reasons for the Faith and against the marauding of science.  If science is actually so evil (especially, those nasty evolutionists!), then what are the counter truths on which its opponents' knives are whetted?

We won't say more about this than that many of our strident Christians seem not to have read the fundamentals, like the Sermon on the Mount.   At least, the 'religious' engage in enough greed, hate, and inequality to suggest that, as we're seeing in the US these days.  (And Christians are not alone: plenty of Muslims cite what is convenient from the Prophet, assuming those strapping bombs on their chests have actually read any of it.)

More relevant  is that this shows the symbolic, cultural, nature of the science-religion divisions in our society.  This is about cultural power and influence, partly perhaps in terms of access to wealth but probably mainly access to psychological and symbolic 'wealth'.  Don't bother me with the facts!  It's highly tribalistic in that sense, about membership, waving the right banner, and that sort of thing, more than it is about the facts of the world.

The story has some symmetries.  Many in evolutionary biology and genetics do not have a very sophisticated or complete knowledge of what is actually known, and cling to various beliefs of their own--beliefs that life is simpler or more deterministic than we actually know is the truth.  The belief in Darwinian essentialism--you are what your genes are--is as deeply invoked, regardless of the evidence, as theological beliefs.  Or, scientists proclaim as if science somehow could prove the falseness of religion (i.e., that there's no God), showing that they, too, haven't understood the limits of their own field.

So, when we're in a cultural conflict, what role do the facts actually play, and does knowledge of the essentials that are purportedly behind one's expressed point of view matter?  Of course, in a democracy it is perfectly legitimate to vote  however you want without having to give a reason--or even without having to have a reason.  So does a democracy decide relevant questions, such as the legality of stem cell research, based on facts of some sort (religious or scientific), or is this mainly about planting one's flag in the enemy's territory?

The Gospel of St Francis....Collins, that is

The Sept 6 New Yorker has a story about Francis Collins, head of the National Institutes of Health -- his life, his religion, and how he thought he had resolved the debate over the use of embryonic stem cells.  He is, as everyone knows, a born-again evangelical Christian, so naturally people wondered where he would come down on this issue. He's often treated as if his word is Gospel when it comes to health; but he's not Catholic so he's not St Francis.

Indeed, people wondered how he'd come down on many issues, given his religious bent, but he assured us that this job was separate from his religion (he was quoted in the New York Times at the time of his nomination as saying, “I have made it clear that I have no religious agenda for the N.I.H.,” he said, “and I think the vast majority of scientists have been reassured by that and have moved on").  And indeed, his friends all assured us when he was appointed that he wouldn't let his religion guide his decisions about science.

Oh, really?  As the story in the New Yorker puts it, the way he made his decision about stem-cell research was to reconcile his views on stem cells with his Christian morality.  He ultimately decided he was in favor of embryonic stem cell research, but not before he wrestled with the decision from his religious point of view.

Before Collins had a direct say in the Administration’s decision on stem cells, he was personally torn by the ethical questions posed by stem-cell research. He has long opposed the creation of embryos for the purpose of research. He sees a human embryo as a potential life, though he thinks that it is not possible scientifically to settle precisely when life begins. But Collins also feels it is morally wasteful not to take advantage of the hundreds of thousands of embryos created for in-vitro fertilization that ultimately are disposed of anyway. These embryos are doomed, but they can help aid disease research.

Although his feelings about embryonic stem-cells are indeed pro-research, and satisfied scientists, particularly those doing stem cell research -- he was quoted as being 'stunned' by the legal decision two weeks ago to halt stem cell research -- it can't be denied that he filtered his thinking through his religious beliefs.  Just as those who were not in favor of his appointment worried that he would do -- and those who supported him assured us he wouldn't.  If he makes the 'right' decision based on his religious views, in the minds of scientists who want to be free to do whatever they want to do, is that now okay?

We all have a moral filter of some sort, and make decisions based on what we think is right and wrong, but one would hope that the head of the organization that guides the direction of research into fundamental life and death matters would have a more nuanced, less superstition-driven basis for those decisions.  Indeed, in his official position, with his hands on so much of the people's money, his decisions should be driven by what would have the greatest impact on the health of the most people.  We trust him when he says that he doesn't believe he has a religious agenda for the NIH, but when his basis for decisions is his evangelical faith, what else can you call it?

And, it must be said that our own primary concern when he was selected to head the NIH had more to do with his genetic and technology fundamentalism than his religion -- a concern that the New Yorker story doesn't acknowledge, though surely we weren't the only scientists who felt this way.  Dr Collins is a technophile's technophile, and there are many reasons to challenge the unrestrained investment in hypertechnologies as the main mission of our national heath institute.

Humans Teaching Humans about Human Evolution

On Friday I spoke at a conference for current and future K-12 science teachers hosted by Kean University in New Jersey.

My host was Professor Brian Regal of Kean University - a historian of science who specializes in, among other fascinating subjects, human evolution, monsters and Darwin, so he’s great fun for sharing stories and enthusiasm about fossils.

I did my usual spastic song and dance about human evolution... something I can never seem to get unexcited about. I titled my talk "Humans Teaching Humans about Human Evolution" because it's pretty strange that we teach at all. Plus, when we teach each other about our own evolution, even people who accept evolution can get all bent out of shape.

But before me, Ross Nehm gave an excellent presentation on the research he does on the cognitive basis of learning science, particularly the principles of evolution and the theory of natural selection.

He has compared answers from college students to those provided by professors for the following questions:
1. How do bacteria develop resistance to antibiotics?
2. Why do cheetahs run so fast?
3. How could the blind cave salamander have gotten that way?

The professors routinely respond with, "why are you asking me all the same question in three different ways?" However, students routinely come up with three different (and incorrect) answers to these questions and they often include statements like “the bacteria need to change or else they’ll get killed by the antibiotic.”

Nehm showed data on what he called “liabilities” that students bring to the classroom. This component of their knowledge is prior, erroneous knowledge that they then have to overcome to learn the correct stuff. Some students have so much liability, or debt, that even though they may learn more than their peers in a course, and they may get the highest grades on the exams, they don’t necessarily learn enough to overcome it. This is why he advocates that teachers actively battle the liabilities that students bring to the classroom by assessing first what the liabilities are and then addressing them in our curriculum.

Then Nehm introduced the concept of “p-prims” which can inhibit our ability to learn evolution properly. P-prims are the common sense stories we use to explain the world around us. They’re right in life but they can be completely wrong in science. Click here for examples.

Because I don’t know much about p-prims, and because I’m an anthropologist, I saw something else. A lot of the evolution-education troubles that Nehm found were, to me, rooted in the human habit of anthropomorphizing species or individual bacteria, for example, in some epic tale of a "Majestic Quest to Evolve" (meant to be read with that deep grizzled movie trailer voice).

And this made me realize that it’s not just the learner who’s falling victim to this narrative quicksand, it’s the teachers too. We anthropomorphize and spin narratives like crazy when we’re teaching evolution. Maybe you don’t, but you’re probably boring.

(That was said with tongue-in-cheek, but with a grain of truth on the taste buds.)

Those of us who are trying to make evolution interesting for sleepy college students may be making everything a lot worse. On the other hand, evolutionary principles take longer than one semester to sink-in for the vast majority of people (Think about that teachers! Didn't it take you longer than a semester for the light bulb to shine on?), so maybe we shouldn’t worry if the initial take on evolution isn’t quite right as long as there is some sort of uptake in the first place.

Many science writers are guilty of anthropomorphizing the players in the game of evolution too. Giving motive to jellyfish is unscientific, but it’s one of the only means for describing behavior, using only words on a page, to someone who’s not witnessing it for themselves. It’s also a great ploy to keep up readership: Nobody wants to open the New York Times Science page and read a Jellyfish Instruction Manual. We want drama. And we get it. Along with a complete misunderstanding of evolution… the kind that leads people to erroneously apply its principles to government social policy, or, worse, to worry and to stir up fear about others who may do so.

Which naturally brings me to the final event at the conference. After a wonderful day of discussing evolution with really cool NJ teachers including a good hour dedicated to the new Ardi discovery, I was handed a goodie bag that all the participants received which included some helpful NSTA materials.

But my bag had something extra - a little package addressed to me with a printed label. Ross Nehm got one too. I figured it was just paperwork for the guest speakers since it was in a Kean University yellow envelope. I opened it in the airport while waiting for my flight. Inside was anti-evolution/ pro-Bible (is there any other kind?) propaganda in the form of a pamphlet, glossy color book and DVD from the Jehovah’s Witness group Watchtower. Someone had hijacked university letterhead on their crusade against evolution.

With uplifting information like this on their website, it’s a wonder the group manages to keep so many members: “Evolution presents modern man as an improving animal. The Bible presents modern man as the degenerating descendant of a perfect man.”

Celebrating my inner ape, my inner fish, and, most importantly, my inner degenerate happens to be some of the most glorious things about life. It’s a shame that something like this will never inspire awe and love in so many.

Francis Collins and the NIH

Francis Collins, long-time director of the US National Human Genome Research Institute (part of our National Institutes of Health), is reported to be President Obama's choice to be the next NIH director. This is a curious choice and it is receiving comment from both Nature and Science this week (not to mention many blogs), and for good reasons.

First, on the surface it suggests a complete and total victory for the genetic view of life. That might have been fine for the Genome Institute, but seems much less so for NIH overall, because many if not most problems in both medicine and public health are not about genes or genetic variation (though they involve them at least indirectly) but are about environments, many kinds of therapies, prevention, and so on. One doesn't have to ignore the fact that genetics is certainly fundamental to life, and that molecular biology will become increasingly important, to know that (for example) most common diseases have little to do with genetic variation in any sensible way. Forcing things through a genetic conceptual lens will distort them, and root them in glamorous technology rather than concept or accountability for results.

As director of NHGRI, Dr Collins did a lot of things that can be praised and others that can be criticized. First and foremost among the former, perhaps, are that he nobly and successfully struggled to keep genome sequence and variation data in the public domain. But he also directly or indirectly intimidated other NIH agencies to get into the genome game, or even to contribute to NHGRI efforts. That did, and still does, coopt funds that could be used for other things instead. Partly, Francis rode a fashion, partly an explosion of genuinely new and important knowledge, and partly the Washington money game.

The other issue is Dr Collins' brand of Christian fundamentalism. He says he had a conversion experience, and believes in a 'personal' God and he's written a book about it. In the US context, that has implications for policy, not all of them good (and not all of them Constitutional, perhaps). He has done medical missionary work in Africa, as we understand it, but we don't know what kind of missionary work. If it was out in the sweaty hinterlands where people really need help, then he deserves and should get all the praise that is available for being consistent with the basic Christian principles that not all Christians follow (to say the least).

But a personal God intervenes in the world, and that is inconsistent with all the precepts of science. For example, one never expects experiments to be affected by God (or by prayer). Does he, or should we, pray for God to cure a loved one's disease? Science rests on the assumption that the world is a strictly material place to be understood in terms of its universal laws (like gravity, chemistry, etc.). And Dr. Collins clearly asserts that religions should basically not make scriptural claims about the world, because science will show that they are wrong. But what, then, is a personal God? These seem like incompatible views, which can be worrisome for someone in a position of science leadership in our culturally cloven society.

And what about evolution? What are his views of human origins, and the genetic relationships we bear with other species? Was that process mechanical, or God-directed? It makes a difference in how we interpret our own variation (not to mention racial variation), the differential impact of the 'curse' of disease, and the relevance of animal models. If humans are not 'just' genes, is that because God made us unique? If so, should we be licensed to torture animals in research? We do have to say that the NHGRI did not get involved in religious entanglements during Dr Collins' stewardship, but it is certainly fair to ask these things, as they have potential policy implications--especially if a fundamentalist chunk of the country will expect it.

Like grilling of a prospective Supreme Court justice, one would like to know how all our health needs will be addressed, not just one particular component of them. That will be of interest to those who are not just in genetics. Likewise, the religious aspect of Dr Collins' life is at least potentially relevant in our society, especially because genetics is inextricably and properly understood in the context of evolution; regardless of his view on evolution, religious literalists may expect him to use religion to filter research and policy decisions.

Supreme Court justices sometimes play the political role desired by those who appointed them, which is a shame since courts should be as objective as possible in the realities of human society. But sometimes they surprise. Dr Collins could go either way -- who can say? He could use his Christian religious beliefs to foster all sorts of health improvements for the needy here and abroad, rather than (as most genetics does) for the privileged. He could help international medical services (like Doctors Without Borders), a kind of US contribution to a medical Peace Corps. Or, he could stay close to his genetics worldview, narrowing the field directly or by bureaucrats being intimidated or chameleon-like in their struggle for cuts of the NIH pie.

In fact, there is no danger whatever that genetics research is going to be neglected; there are far too many commercial, academic, and bureaucratic careers that depend on it. We need to support basic genetics, but, for cost reasons, that should be done through NSF not NIH. But if anything is to be neglected it would be the work on the therapeutic approaches to hundreds of truly, seriously genetic diseases, and much less on the huge genomics studies aimed at genetic prediction or common diseases (like the targets of GWAS and biobanks); those are public-health scale approaches yet quart size Cokes and fries, not genes, are the major public health problems.

How Dr Collins will do will be interesting to see.