Part of the book features some interesting thoughts on Science:

The business of the natural philosopher is to construct theories which will ‘save appearances’…. A scientific theory must ‘save’ or ‘preserve’ the appearances, the phenomena, it deals with, in the sense of getting them all in, doing justice to them. Thus, for example, your phenomena are luminous points in the night sky which exhibit such and such movements in relation to one another and in relation to an observer at a particular point, or various chosen points, on the surface of the Earth. Your astronomical theory will be a supposal such that, if it were true, the apparent motions from the point or points of observation would be those you have actually observed. The theory will then have ‘got in’ or ‘saved’ the appearances.

But, if we demanded no more than that from a theory, science would be impossible, for a lively inventive faculty could devise a good many different supposals which would equally save the phenomena. We have therefore had to supplement the canon of saving the phenomena by another canon– first, perhaps, formulated with full clarity by Occam. According to this second canon we must accept (provisionally) not any theory which saves the phenomena but that theory which does so with the fewest possible assumptions. Thus the two theories (a) that the bad bits in Shakespeare were all put there by adapters, and (b) that Shakespeare wrote them when he was not at his best, will equally ‘save’ the appearances. But we already know that there was such a person as Shakespeare and that writers are not always at their best. If scholarship hopes ever to achieve the steady progress of the sciences, we must therefore (provisionally) accept the second theory. If we can explain the bad bits without the assumption of an adapter, we must.

In every age it will be apparent to accurate thinkers that scientific theories, being arrived at in the same way I have described, are never statements of fact. That the stars appear to move in such and such ways, or that substances behaved thus and thus in the laboratory– these are the statements of fact. The astronomical or chemical theory can never be more than provisional. It will have to be abandoned if a more ingenious person thinks of a supposal which would ‘save’ the observed phenomena with still fewer assumptions, or if we discover new phenomena which it cannot save at all.

This would, I believe, be recognized by all thoughtful scientists today. It was recognized by Newton if, as I am told, he wrote not ‘the attraction varies inversely as the square of the distance’, but ‘all happens as if’ it is so varied. It was certainly recognized in the Middle Ages. ‘In astronomy’, says Aquinas, ‘an account is given of eccentrics and epicycles on the ground that if their assumption is made (hac positione facta) the sensible appearances as regards to celestial motions can be saved. But this is not a strict scientific proof (sufficienter probans) since for all we know (forte) they could also be saved by some different assumption.’ The real reason why Copernicus raised no ripple and Galileo raised a storm, may well be that whereas the one offered a new supposal about celestial motions, the other insisted on treating this supposal as fact. If so, the real revolution consisted not in a new theory of the heavens but in ‘a new theory of the nature of theory’.

On the highest level, then, the Model was recognized as provisional. What we should like to know is how far down the intellectual scale this cautious view extended. In our age I think it would be fair to say that the ease with which a scientific theory assumes the dignity and rigidity of fact varies inversely with the individual’s scientific education. In discussion with wholly uneducated audiences I have sometimes found matter which real scientists would regard as highly speculative more firmly believed than many things within our real knowledge. The _imago_ of the Cave Man ranked as hard fact, and the life of Caesar or Napoleon as doubtful rumour. We must not, however, hastily assume that the situation was quite the same in the Middle Ages. The mass media which have in our time created a popular scientism, a caricature of the true sciences, did not then exist. The ignorant were more aware of their ignorance then than now.

p. 14 – 17

It is a complex debate and I have no illusions about easily resolving it for anyone else. Those of you who have discussed this issue with me before know that I lean strongly toward the Intelligent Design side of the controversy, though I have some reservations about a number of the political goals of the movement.

I do intend to go see the new documentary film Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed, which opened last Friday, if I can make some time this week.

My thoughts here, however, were prompted by reading this blog post by BYU Professor Steven L. Peck . Brother Peck certainly has impressive credentials, and so I hesitate to respond to what he has written for the honest recognition that the topic may simply be beyond my skill and understanding. However, despite my worries, I will share my thoughts.

First off, let me say that I am disappointed in the derisive tone of his post. If he wants to win over people such as myself, who lean toward Intelligent Design, and especially members of the church, he would do better to afford us the dignity of a fellow Saint.

While brother Peck’s characterization of Intelligent Design proponents may well be an accurate portrayal of some, I think that it is generally unhelpful and largely inaccurate.

I can only speak from my own views of ID, but a number of us who lean toward Intelligent Design over Darwinian Evolution are quite aware that the “Selection” part of the Random Mutation plus Natural Selection equation makes it not purely “random.”

Even as a self-identified believer in Intelligent Design, I do accept the succession of species (the “Fact” of evolution, as it is often called). But the succession of species is not itself proof that the proposed mechanism, random mutation plus natural selection, is really the method by which that succession came to pass.

In science, we have to distinguish between the observable facts and the model used to explain those facts. And it is perfectly acceptable to explore a number of different models that attempt to explain what is observed. As more facts become available through scientific investigation and experimentation, we may choose to discard or revise models that contradict the new information, or to reconsider previously discarded models in light of new facts. If a scientist wants to investigate a new model to see how well it matches the observable facts, she should be allowed to do so without ridicule and harassment.

My own Intelligent Design views allow that evolution (a succession of species) has indeed occurred, but I reject the purely materialistic mechanism for evolution. I accept that some kind of evolution has happened, but I reject the notion that Random Mutation plus Natural Selection alone is capable of producing the kind of complex information we see in living organisms. Instead I favor the front-loading hypothesis of evolution, where all of the information necessary to create the breadth and depth of life was encoded into DNA from the beginning. In my model the process of Random Mutation plus Natural Selection cannot create information. It only activates or deactivates pre-existing information. So I accept the fact of evolution, but I reject the Materialistic, Darwinian mechanism in favor of the Intelligently Designed front-loading mechanism.

I’ve yet to see anything observable that proves that random mutation and natural selection alone are capable of doing what Darwin claimed, even after 150 years of fact gathering and exponentially increasing knowledge of biological systems.

The observable facts, as I have been able to perceive them, are at least as consistent with the front-loading model.

Could I be wrong? Certainly. But I think that I, and others, should be able to investigate and experiment with that model without being branded with propagandist’s epithets like “creationist” intended to imply ignorance, dishonesty, or a theocratic political agenda.

Brother Peck spends a lot of time in his post discussing how monkeys could create the works of Shakespeare by typing on keyboards.

I cannot compare to Brother Peck’s credentials in the mathematics of modeling evolution, However, as someone with both a deal of professional computer programming experience and a BA in English Literature, I can tell you that, in my view, the programs that simulate random mutation plus natural selection like the monkeys on typewriters program he cites from Richard Dawkins are at least of questionable value as evidence for a purely materialist mechanism for evolution.

Because they have to know Shakespeare in the first place in order to determine whether or not “Shakespeare” has been achieved, the selection portions of the equation in such computer models smack of a peculiar kind of “begging the question” fallacy. They bear some resemblance to self-fulfilling prophesies. These programs only produce Shakespeare because some Intelligent Designer (the programmer) copy and pasted Shakespeare’s words from the Project Gutenberg transcription of his Works into a database. Neither the computer program or the monkeys actually produce anything more than a copy of Shakespeare, only Shakespeare and the programmer actually did any “creating.”

My views are open to change on this topic, but I strongly support the idea that scientists should be able to pursue these alternative models without reprisal from or suppression by the Darwinian orthodoxy. If they lead to more knowledge and truth, then we are blessed. If they do not, then they will fade away of their own accord without any artificial aide by the Darwinian Intelligencia.

I just wanted to direct your attention to, and solicit your comments on a great short story entitled “Confession” by a Philosophy student at the University of Missouri-Kansas City named James Hoskins. Hoskins’s story puts an interesting, fun new twist on a familiar scenario:
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Some time, somewhere….Adam began having doubts about his faith. His mother was deeply concerned about him. She had been an active member in the church for as long as he could remember and faith was her life. Adam’s doubts had progressed past his private thoughts and were starting to come out in his speech. His mother was heart broken to hear her son question all she had taught him. She feared he had been reading books of false doctrine or, even worse, that his brain had been corrupted by evil philosophies. But she feared most for his salvation. She urged Adam to go and talk with Father Antony. Finally, after much reluctance, Adam agreed. After all, he regretted his lack of faith almost as much as his mother did. Indeed, he felt guilty for it. Yet, there were so many things that did not make sense to him.

Father Antony was an extremely intelligent man. He had quite an impressive vocabulary, yet he could still put complex ideas into common vernacular in a very thoughtful way. As Adam entered the Father’s quarters, his eyes passed over a long bookshelf containing all the books of the Holy Canon. Father Antony looked up through his reading glasses and greeted Adam with a warm smile.

“Hello Adam! Good to see you here. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t entirely my idea,” Adam replied.

“I know, your mother called me,” the Father said with a grin.

“That sounds like her,” said Adam as he gazed at all the books.

“Your mother loves you very much Adam. She’s just worried about you. I’m glad you came. Please sit down.”

After a very uncomfortable silence of what seemed like an hour, Adam began,

“Well, I guess I should start by saying I’ve been having a lot of questions.”

“About what?”

“Everything!” Adam’s eyebrows raised.

The Father, twiddling his glasses in his hand, said calmly, “Why don’t you tell me some specifics and I’ll do my best to answer your questions.”
…

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Read the whole story:
Confession by James Hoskins (pdf)

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In this post, however, I want to discuss the problem of scientific modesty—or the problem of the lack thereof.

I have previously posted on the neglected literary merits of the marvelous book Flatland, by Edwin Abbot. In its dedication, the book’s fictional, two-dimensional narrator says that the book was published in the hope that it would contribute ”…To the Enlargement of THE IMAGINATION And the possible Development Of that most rare and excellent Gift of MODESTY Among the Superior Races Of SOLID HUMANITY.”

Modesty, in this sense, refers humility resulting from circumspection regarding our own limitations. It is this kind of modesty that science so often seems to lack.

During the 19th Century, many scientists felt that they finally understood basically everything there was to know about our universe. Over the previous few centuries they had developed a consistent model of the universe that appeared to apply universally. It was taken for granted that theoretical concepts like the universal luminiferous aether were simply fact. Even though its existence had not yet been demonstrated, it was certain to exist by reasonable induction from the known facts of the universe.

In 1887, Albert Michelson and Edward Morley formulated an experiment that would demonstrate the fact of the aether. The experiment backfired and ended up throwing the entire theory of the Ether into turmoil. Neither Michelson or Morley accepted the implications of the results of their experiment and Edward Morley spent the next twenty years or so trying to produce an experiment that would vindicate the theory. Meanwhile, others rejected the theory and it was eventually replaced with Albert Einstein’s Theory of Relativity.

In 1895, Rontgen discovered X-rays. Henri Becquerel discovered Radioactivity in 1896. And Joseph Thomson discovered the electron in 1897. Within a few short years the beautiful models that had been built up over centuries and were accepted as fact became, suddenly, insufficient.

It is interesting that Flatland was published in 1884—its allegorical exhortation to modesty strikingly apt for the impending shift in science.

Rutherford Aris retired from his position in the chemical engineering department of the University of Michigan Minnesota in 1996. He also held joint appointments in the university’s departments of Classics and Near Eastern Studies. His mathematical models revolutionized the field of chemical engineering.

He is also a devoted Christian and has used his influence to cultivate Christian belief.

Read the article to learn more about this fascinating and inspiring man.

UPDATE: Aris Rutherford passed away on November 2^nd of this year. You can read an obituary here . The original article I linked to appears to be gone now. You may still read a description of the “Professor as Pilgrim” symposium inspired by him here .