If “new atheism” (NA) is, if not dead, perhaps terminally ill, then one of the contributory factors to its demise is the scrutiny that
its supporting doctrines have come under. Whether cause or consequence, NA has
always been closely linked with “scientism”. Scientism is not science, does not
work in the same way as science, and does not (or should not) have the same
authority as science. A bit like NA itself, it’s not new; it has probably been
around in one form or another as long as science itself. But it really began to
emerge in the late 19th century with the desire of some in science to
paint the only possible relationship between science and other disciplines, or
between science and religious faith, as a war in which there had to be a winner
and a loser. It kicked around in the background for a while, probably pooped up
in many undergraduate science courses, and came to public prominence more recently
as a supporting pillar of NA.
What is it? Definitions abound, but at its heart it’s an understandable
(and now familiar) view. The only truth that counts is scientific truth, and
therefore the scientific method is the only means of discovering truth. A series
of classic statements can be found in Peter Atkins short essay “Science as truth”
published in in 1995. Speaking of science, Atkins claims that “There appear to
be no bounds to its competence… This claim of universal competence may seem arrogant,
but it appears to be justified.” All religion (grouped with studies of the
paranormal) is dismissed as an “obscurantist pursuit”. Science is the “greatest
of humanity’s intellectual achievements”; in contrast he thinks it a defensible
proposition that “no philosopher has helped to elucidate nature”! I commenced
my own scientific journey in 1979 when I began my science degree at the
University of Glasgow. There were certainly some lecturers to us first-year
biology students who weren’t backward at dropping such sentiments into their lectures.
I now suspect that this was because their own historical and philosophical
education was sadly lacking. As student, I found such views baffling; as a
scientist, more than thirty years Iater I find them embarrassing.
There have been and are lots of responses to scientism. Some
have come from those of a theological disposition. I rather like John Polkinghorne’s
comment on scientism (in “Theology in the Context of Science, p46), that it is “the
rash and implausible claim that science tells us all that is worth knowing, or
even that could ever be known. Embracing that belief is to take an arid and
dreary view of reality..” . Polkinghorne writes as a theologian and former (distinguished)
physicist. For a wide ranging and eloquent critique from a scientist’s
standpoint, read Austin Hughes’ “The Folly of Scientism”. Hughes writes for
more than just the sake of an argument. He has a real concern that scientism’s
overreach will eventually cause science big problems: “Continued insistence on
the universal competence of science will serve only to undermine the
credibility of science as a whole.” With contemporary attacks on expertise
ringing in our ears, and with science now worrying within about the reproducibility
crisis, I think he’s right to be concerned.
Part of Hughes’ case is that philosophers are far from innocent
when it comes to the scientism. Some schools of philosophy provided a major
impetus to it (ie the logical positivists), while others colluded in its rise. It
always bemused me that 19th century theology gave up the tussle so
easily. But philosophy being philosophy, scientism didn’t have it entirely its
own way. At least now there does seem to be something of a fight back going on
whether it’s Roger Scruton’s approach from art history, or Peter Hacker’s more analytical
analytical critique.
To my non-philosophical mind, many of those objecting to
scientism seem to be united in a common reaction to the ignorance of those who
promulgate scientism. This is a version of the disdain for other approaches
that has been so much a part of NA. From their different perspectives,
scientism’s critics have pointed out that it often derides and dismisses ideas
that are never fully defined or fairly discussed. Some have objected to its
selective memory when it comes to the history of science itself. Others have
pointed out that it has a habit of blundering to other areas of academic
endeavour, oblivious to important concepts and developments, constructing weak arguments
and reaching fallacious conclusions. Particularly in popular accounts, this
leads to a series of illusory battles against straw men, which of course, are convincingly
won.
It’s always struck me that this is something that often
marks NA’s attacks on religious belief. Of course if you take the very weakest
form of an argument it will be easy to defeat it. Having defeated the weakest
form, it’s a short step to the claim that all arguments of that type are also
therefore defeated. Showing that diverse beliefs in fairies, Santa Claus and
large lizards controlling earth from the moon are irrational is not likely to
be that relevant to debunking beliefs in well attested and evidenced ancient
events that believers claim to have transformative power today. Such debunking
may be possible, but it was always likely to take much more careful work than
many in NA were apparently able or inclined to do. And the sheer logical inappropriateness
of the natural science to do this work, was clearly lost on them.
As with the reported death of NA, it’s unclear to me what
the fate of scientism will be. As Hughes argued, its fate will likely have
important effects on science itself. As a scientist, I’m committed to the scientific
endeavour, and think that within its area of competence science offers the best
way to answer certain types of questions. But it can’t answer every type of
question. For that we need the tools of philosophy, history, anthropology and
the rest. And for that most important type of question (the why rather than the
how)? If I were you I’d turn to Scripture rather than scientism (or even science).
