A. Illustrative
Examples for Section 7C in a page about Historical
Science are in these
two sections:
Perseverance and Flexibility
Perhaps the search by Closed
Science is occasionally futile, like trying to explain how the faces on Mt.
Rushmore were produced by undirected natural process (erosion,...) even though,
when scientists are restricted in this way, the finest creativity and logic
will fail to find the true origin. Perhaps MN is putting scientists in
the position of a man who is diligently searching for missing keys in the kitchen
when the keys are sitting on a table on the front porch. No matter how
hard he searches the kitchen, he won't find the keys because they aren't there! On
the other hand, if the keys really are in the kitchen, they will probably be
found by someone who believes "the keys are in the kitchen" and is
diligently searching there, not by a skeptic.
Claims for design will not hinder
scientific progress if "many scientists continue
their non-design research." But the effects will depend on
a variety of factors, inside and outside science, including the psychology
of perseverance. In the complex blend that generates productive thinking, "There
can be a tension between contrasting virtues, such as persevering by tenacious
hard work, or flexibly deciding to stop wasting time on an approach that isn't
working and probably never will. A problem solver may need to dig deeper,
so perseverance is needed; but sometimes the key to a solution is to
dig in a new location, and flexibility (not perseverance) will pay off." {from Productive
Thinking (creative and critical) }
We should try to rationally evaluate the scientific merits
of perseverance and flexibility, and the probability of eventually finding a
plausible non-design theory. We should try to predict the effects of future
scientific developments by asking, "Will non-design seem more plausible
(if we discover how a feature could have been produced by undirected natural
process), or will it seem less plausible (because we know more about the limits
of natural process)?" Either result could occur.
Both possibilities have occurred, for example, in the
history of research about chemical evolution. Compared with 1952, in
1953 our plausibility estimates for a non-designed natural origin of life were
higher because the Miller-Urey experiments showed that inorganic chemicals
could be converted into small biomolecules. Many scientists optimistically
assumed that we would soon discover a natural production of large biomolecules
that would transform themselves into a simple reproducing cell which could
then evolve and increase in complexity. Since then, however, the warm
glow of optimism has been cooled by the harsh reality of improved scientific
knowledge. The distance between what is naturally possible (before life)
and what is necessary (for life) seems much greater now than in 1953. An
increase in knowledge has strengthened the scientific support for a theory
of design. In the future, if our knowledge continues to improve, and
if a natural origin of life continues to seem highly implausible, a claim for
design will become even more strongly supported.
To make better estimates for the future status of non-design
and design, instead of a vague optimism that "science will solve everything" we
can ask specific questions. We can look at each obstacle to a natural origin
of life — the unfavorable chemical equilibria for synthesizing biomolecules,
the high degree of biocomplexity required for metabolism and reproduction,... — and
then try to imagine ways in which future knowledge might change our views of
each obstacle. We can ask, "How likely is each change?" and "How
would it affect our evaluations for a natural origin of life?"
Is
science a game with rules?
To answer this question, we'll
compare "cheating" in sports and in science. Is it useful — as
suggested by some critics of design — to view science as an intellectual
game played with a set of rules, which include MN, that are established by
tradition, approved by consensus in the scientific community, and enforced
by funding agencies, journal editors, and hiring committees?
This is an interesting perspective. In
terms of sociology, regarding interpersonal dynamics and institutional structures,
it is an idea with merit. But it seems much less impressive and less
appealing when we think about functional logic and the cognitive goals of
science, when we acknowledge the distinction between games and reality.
The practical value of restrictive
rules is different in a game and in reality. To illustrate, consider
the Strong Man contests televised by ESPN. During these competitions,
I've seen men tow a semi-truck, and carry a refrigerator on their backs.
For the game, if one competitor
wanted to hook the semi to a tow truck or strap the refrigerator to a
two-wheeler, this would be cheating. It would provide an unfair
advantage and would not help in achieving the goal of the game: determining
who is the strongest man. In this context, the rule about "no
mechanical help" is useful.
But for reality, for accomplishing
a practical goal, the same rule might not be useful. If the real-life
goal of a business is to move vehicles or refrigerators quickly, over
and over throughout the day, using tow trucks or two-wheelers is a more
effective strategy than asking a person to do all the work.
It is obvious that a restrictive
rule which is useful in the context of an artificial game — such
as requiring that a heavy object must be moved by a human without mechanical
help — may not be useful in real life for accomplishing practical
goals. When this principle is applied to science, it seems more
rational to view science as an activity with
goals instead of a game with rules. Then
we can ask whether the restrictions imposed by MN will make scientists
more effective in pursuing and achieving the goals of science. More
specifically, we can ask "Is rigid-MN a useful strategy in our search
for truth, in our development of increasingly accurate theories about
nature?"