I was recently doing some training for the EPA at their beautiful campus at Research Triangle Park. During a break, I sat on one of the outdoor benches and thought about a conversation I'd had with a good friend recently regarding intelligent design.
I imagined an alien who landed on earth and came upon me sitting on the bench. The bench was done is such a way that it was nicely integrated with the lawn on which it sat. My new alien friend approaches...
"That's a wonderful example of evolution--that bench you're sitting on," he says.
"Huh? This isn't a work of nature. This was designed and built by someone--a human, I think."
"That's silly. Of course, it's a product of evolution: look at the organic nature of the thing. It probably began started out as a piece of wood and evolved into its present state."
"Look, I'm from around here and I can assure you that this was built by a human. It was designed and built; it didn't evolve."
"Well, that's your opinion: you have your opinion and I have mine. Since it probably took a very long time to evolve, we probably won't be around to see another one make it to this point, so it will have to remain an unsettled question. At least, I hope you'll be open enough to teach both opinons in your schools."
I was stymied by his reasoning, but unsure how to proceed. And then, I had a little idea. "Say, look under the bench. If it was designed and built, as I assert, there should be some sign. I imagine there should somewhere be the name of the firm who produced it."
The alien slid under the bench and for some time remained silent. "Hmm...," he said. "It says 'Outdoor Crafts, Inc.' on something that looks like a plaque."
"Well, that settles it," I said. "It was indeed designed and built."
"Not at all. I think it's clear that this 'plaque' evolved as well."
"What?? That's absurd. The plaque indicates the firm that made it."
"Well, you have your opinion and I have mine."
I wasn't ready to give up yet. "See if there are some screws or bolts that fasten the bench to its stand. That's a common practice among human builders."
The alien looked. "Indeed, there are. Nature never ceases to amaze me with her ingenuity."
"Look, there's another bench over there. I think if you'll measure them, you'll see they're exactly the same in every detail."
The alien surveyed the other bench and returned with his findings. "You're right: they are exactly the same. Clearly, this was a successful branch of evolution, leading to its duplication."
"You're just impossible," I suggested.
"Not at all," he rejoined. "It's just that you have your opinion and I have mine. I suppose it's really a matter of faith: yours in this 'design and creation' theory; me in my evolution theory. Neither of us have definite proof. And what people are sure of today, they often recant tomorrow. The best approach is to keep an open mind. Say, I'd love to continue this fascinating discussion, but I'm being beeped by the mother ship. I'm afraid it's off to the meteor, Blastoid 57 for me." And with that, he was gone.
It's a silly story, I know, but maybe an instructive one. The alien was right: neither of us had definitive proof, but he was very wrong, I assert, in his conclusion that both "theories" were equally valid.
It's simply not enough for a theory to explain something. One can always conjure a theory to explain past events. One of the necessary requirements for a good scientific theory is that it produce predictions that can be tested: the more correct predictions it produces, the higher our confidence in the theory.
My theory produced three testable predictions, all of which were proven true. The alien's theory produced none. And that, friends, is where intelligent design has so utterly failed. Evolution has made consistent predicitions, many of which have proven true and have led to major breakthroughs in our understanding of biology and cosmology, among many other sciences. Intelligent design, though, has failed to provide any predictions that might be tested. Instead, its advocates content themselves with pointing out the weaknesses and incompleteness in evolution.
But NOT x does not mean y. Weaknesses in evolution do not bolster intelligent design. Such reasoning commits the logical fallacy of the False Dilemna. Or for my techie friends, it is, as one expert calls it, "the illegitimate use of the 'or' operator".
I personally find it sad that so many Christians fall prey to the nonscientific appeals of intelligent design. As a Christian myself, I think that the intelligent design argument is an attempt to prop up God. As my intelligent design friend told me, "If there is no first Adam, what need do we have of a second Adam?"
But if our faith is based on such a shabby foundation, where we deliberately distort truth, is it really faith in God -- or faith in our own understanding? If (as I think) it's the latter, it's really a very old-fashioned idea known as idolatry, in which something other than God holds ultimate sway. What the intelligent design folks seem to think is that if God is responsible for evolution, then he's not much of a God at all. And they're very anxious that others agree, for the more people who endorse their fantasy, the less likely that they may have to admit to themselves that God may be something very different than what we imagine.
To the non-Christian, this may seem a matter of non-importance, but to us Christians, it should be supremely important. How nature works should not be a matter of faith, but of science. Of course, science is often wrong (at any one point in history) but it has a marvelous, self-correcting aspect about it. We sinners, on the other hand, can marshall even God into the service of our arrogance.
