Michael Ruse

This is a book about laws. Not, however, about the laws of which we learned in science classes at school: “scientific laws”. It is rather about those universalities which govern the world of facts, what Swartz calls “physical laws”—although this language is slightly misleading because the term is intended to cover the living as well as the non-living world. Of course, it may well be that a scientific law does capture the essence of a physical law, but not necessarily or usually. A physical law by definition can never be false, whereas almost paradoxically nearly all scientific laws are false.

In recent years, philosophers have come to realize that the relationship between science and values raises questions which are both important and not readily answered. It is true that the major figures in that tradition known as ‘logical empiricism’ appreciated that science always exceeds its empirical grasp and that it is necessary for scientists to be guided and constrained by so-called ‘epistemic values,’ these being values (in the words of one supporter) ‘presumed to promote the truth-like character of science, its character as the most secure knowledge available to us of the world we seek to understand.’ However, these values — such things as internal and external consistency, simplicity, predictive accuracy and fertility, unificatory power (consilience) — were considered special. Inasmuch as they could not be reduced to basic principles of logic — and there were attempts to do this — they were still thought of, in some sense, as beyond the vagaries of human emotion. Their importance was not a function of the individual’s personal inclinations, nor of those of the group, whether this group be understood as a closely knit band of researchers or even up to a complete society.

In this paper I consider the problem of man's evolution - in particular the evolutionary problems raised when we consider man as a cultural animal as well as a biological one. I argue that any adequate cultural evolutionary theory must have the notion of ‘adaptation’ as a central concept, where this must be construed in a fairly literal (biological) sense, that is as something which aids its possessors (i.e. men) to survive and reproduce. I argue against theories which treat adaptation in a metaphorical sense, particularly those speaking of the ‘adaptation’ of cultures without reference to men. Iron tools per se are not better adapted than bronze tools - it is the men with iron tools who are better adapted than men with bronze tools. I show that by taking the approach that I do, one can apply at once in a fruitful manner some conclusions of biological evolutionary theory directly to men and their cultures. I conclude with a brief discussion of methodological issues raised by cultural evolutionary theories, particularly those of confirmation and falsification.

The seventeenth–century chemist and philosopher Robert Boyle argued that the world is like a clockwork machine. This led to the problems of the place of a Creator and of how one can explain the directed, “final–cause” nature of organisms. Boyle thought that he could wrap everything up in one neat package, with a clear place for a designing God, but of course the coming of Darwinism casts doubt on this. Nevertheless, Boyle's thinking does have some very interesting implications for the way in which we today should consider the science/religion relationship

A brief historical overview shows the main Christian claims aboutmorality and proper conduct, looking at questions about both prescriptions and foundations . Jesus did not leave a fully articulated ethical system, and hence it fell to his followers to tease out such a system from hism sayings and actions. Particularly important for Catholic thinking has been the natural law theory of St. Thomas Aquinas. Particularly important for Protestant thinking have been the directives of the Gospel stories, although different branches of Protestantism emphasize different parts of Christ's teachings. Foundationally important for all Christians is God's will or desire, and it is necessary to show that this does not commit the believer to potentially capricious divine directives

The section on the Argument from Design in collections of readings in the philosophy of religion usually begins with an expository selection drawn from Archdeacon William Paley’s Natural Theology, and follows with a critical selection drawn from David Hume’s Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion. Only from the footnotes does the student learn that Hume’s Dialogues was published over twenty years before Paley’s Natural Theology. Probably the student will feel that Hume’s devastating critique of the Argument must strike every reasonable person with equal force, and so he will conclude that Paley must have been an archetypal intellectual conservative—a man whose ideas were dead and fossilized long before he put pen to paper. In fact, historically, the very opposite was the case. Although few could deny Hume’s towering intellect—“God’s greatest gift to the infidel” one fellow Scot grudgingly called him—Hume failed entirely to break the hold that the Argument from Design had on people’s imaginations. As many of us feel about Descartes’s arguments from illusion, people “knew” that somehow there must be a flaw in Hume’s argumentation, for, in the words of the anatomist Richard Owen, organic characters like the hand, the foot, and the eye, bear “irrefragable evidence of creative foresight.” Far from being outdated before it appeared, Paley’s book, in which he drew lucidly upon the most recent findings in natural science, rapidly became the standard work on the Argument from Design. It was, for instance, considered essential reading in any young man’s university education.

arly in December of 1981, the federal courtroom in Little Rock, Arkansas, was packed. It was the first week of a trial brought on by the American Civil Liberties Union to challenge the constitutionality of a state law passed earlier that year. The law mandated "balanced treatment," in the publicly supported schools, between evolutionary ideas and so-called Creation Science, better known as the early chapters of Genesis taken absolutely literally (Ruse 1988). By the end of the third day, the case for the plaintiffs was going well. Theologians had testified that Christianity had long interpreted the Bible metaphorically; a philosopher (me!) had argued that Creation Science fails every criterion of demarcation between science and pseudo-science; and the scientists were pointing to error after error in the claims of the literalists.

Does modern evolutionary theory (specifically Darwinism) pose a problem for the Christian's thinking about morality? It certainly poses threats for those who would argue that certain practices are wrong because they are “unnatural.” Liberal Christians can probably get around these questions. But at a deeper level, despite superficial similarities between its conclusions and the Love Commandment, Darwinism points to an essential relativism about morality, thereby striking at the very core of all Christian thought on moral behavior. Thus, those who are worried about the clash between science and religion have good reasons for their worries.

Methodological naturalism is the assumption or working hypothesis that understanding nature (the physical world including humans and their thoughts and actions) can be understood in terms of unguided laws. There is no need to Suppose interventions (miracles) from outside. It does not commit one to metaphysical naturalism, the belief that there is nothing other than nature as we can see and observe it (in other words, that atheism is the right theology for the sound thinker). Recently the Intelligent Design movement has been arguing against methodological naturalism, and in this project they have been joined by the Christian philosopher Alvin Plantinga. In this paper I examine Plantinga’s arguments and conclude not only that they are not well taken, but that he does no good service to his religion either