By Stan Cox, AlterNet
Posted on May 19, 2005, Printed on May 22, 2005
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 shine 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."Â
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 shift 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-fashioned 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 ownership" 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 incorporating 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 document 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 important 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
classes 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 reported 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
circumspect 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:Â
(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 classes.
(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
classes 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 reporters, "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 support 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 portray the defenders of biological evolution as
anti-democratic, overly educated elitists.
One KCS scientist provided this understated assessment 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.
© 2005 Independent Media Institute. All rights reserved.
View this story online at: http://www.alternet.org/story/22042/
