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Naturalism and uniformity

I posted a series of selections from Matthew Stanley’s recent book here. This post is about an article he wrote: “The Uniformity of Natural Laws in Victorian Britain: Naturalism, Theism, and Scientific Practice” (Zygon, vol. 46, no. 3, Sept. 2011, pp.536-560). His conclusion in the article is similar to the book: the practice of naturalistic and theistic scientists in the 19th century was the same. Their inspiration and motivation was different but this did not interfere with their common practice. Then the naturalists we able to achieve a position of dominance and deprecate the theists and their theism.

“Uniformity is the claim that the laws of nature are the same everywhere and everywhen in the universe” p. 537.

“Herschel’s position that the essence of science was the search for and study of universal, uniform laws was accepted by every scientist I will discuss here, whether theist of naturalist. Precisely what uniformity meant, and how one should thing about it, was more complicated.” p. 540

“The term ‘scientific naturalism’ was first coined by T. H. Huxley in 1892, but the ideas, methods, and attitude of naturalism became widespread decades before. In the middle decades of the nineteenth century, a group of scientists preaching the strict exclusion of religion from scientific matters (for which the uniformity of nature was an important weapon) became influential and rose to prominence in the scientific community. Led by Huxley, John Tyndall, and their allies, these strongly naturalistic scientists portrayed themselves as the vanguard of a truly modern and enlightened science and eventually succeeded in making their visions of a completely naturalistic and areligious science seem obvious and inevitable – precisely how naturalism is presented by scientists today.” p.538

“Scientific naturalism had its most important locus in a group known as the X-Club. This informal network (essentially, a dining club) of young, ambitious scientists sought to professionalize their discipline and increase its social and cultural standing. A critical part of this effort was the exclusion of religion, the supernatural, and the clergy from science: ‘They opposed all suggestions that there were supernatural interventions in the natural order and any attempts to constrain scientific investigation within theologically-determined boundaries’ (Barton, 1990).” p.540

“Its leaders spent a great deal of time and energy discussing the foundations of science and explaining how those foundations excluded the supernatural. And the most important idea supporting that exclusion was uniformity.” p.540

“Huxley referred to the order of nature in almost every essay or lecture, and explicitly opposed it to theology.” p.541

“Huxley’s friend and ally John Tyndall also spoke vigorously of the power of uniformity to banish God” p.541

“The subtexts of these claims was that uniformity not only restricts religion from entering science, but that uniformity can only be justified in a world without divine intervention.” p.542

“The claims of Huxley and Tyndall that uniformity demanded a completely areligious science did not drive the theists to secularism. And yet, these theistic scientists (in Britain, almost all Protestants of various flavors) were in total agreement with the naturalists that uniformity was critical to the advance of science. How could they embrace the naturalistic methods but not the naturalistic conclusions?” p.542

“The answer is that the theists saw uniformity as their impregnable position, not Tyndall’s. The consistency of natural laws over time and space was a sign pointing toward God, not warding him off.” p.543

“Natural laws were seen as instances of divine fiat, and they were constant because God is consistent in his actions.” p.543

“Without an ordering force (i.e., God) one would expect the universe to be a mishmash of chaotic events. The only guarantee for constancy of the laws of nature was the intent of the lawgiver.” p.547

“Within the general rubric of uniformity, there are two specific topics that are thought commonly to be exemplars of how uniformity allows no room for religion: miracles, and the origin of the universe.” p.547

“There was widespread agreement among theistic scientists that apparent violations of natural law were illusory.” p.548

“If scientists had total knowledge of all natural laws, then nothing would ever appear supernatural.” p.549

“Some critics of this position claimed it restricted God’s action, saying that a God who could not intervene in special circumstances was no God at all. But, again, it was uniformity, not interruptions of it, that truly showed us the nature of things” p.549

“There is nothing in Religion incompatible with the belief that all exercises of God’s power, whether ordinary or extraordinary, are effected through the instrumentality of means – that is to say, by the instrumentality of natural laws brought out, as it were, and used for a Divine purpose” (Duke of Argyll, 1867) p.549

“So, this move would essentially remove the category of formal miracles and subsume all divine actions under special providence.” p.550

“Lord Kelvin, considering the implications of the laws of thermodynamics, said that science must stop at the point in the past where matter and energy were created” p.550

“Why Did the Naturalists Win?” The X-Club “was able to have an enormous impact on the future of science by focusing on science education.” p.552

“Huxley designed his teaching to stand for what Adrian Desmond calls a ‘distinct ideological faction’ that clearly marked off acceptable (naturalistic) from unacceptable (theistic) ways of thinking about science.” p.553

“A side effect of this is that once the scientific naturalists gained dominance in the scientific community, they were able to rewrite the history of their discipline to erase the long tradition of theistic science.” p.553

“Concepts like uniformity, which were both theistic and naturalistic in practice, became recast as only naturalistic.” p.554

“Our modern understanding of the uniformity of natural laws as being purely naturalistic, then, is contingent and not inevitable, and a close historical examination of the issues shows that uniformity can be, and was, a tool used both for and against religion. The victory of the scientific naturalists in removing theism from the expectations and parlance of the scientific community had little to do with how science was done (despite their claims to the contrary) and much more to do with attempting to secure better access to professional positions, resources, and cultural authority.” p.555

Invention of the uniformity of nature

Previous posts review Matthew Stanley’s book, which describes how theistic science was displaced by naturalistic science in 19th century Britain. He calls the latter “scientific naturalism,” which is accurate since it is a version of the philosophy, naturalism. It would be opposed by “scientific theism,” though I don’t think he uses that term, perhaps because he didn’t want it to be confused with a particular version, such as the Scientific Theism of Augustus Hopkins Strong (of Strong’s Concordance fame).

One theme of Stanley’s book is the meaning of the uniformity of nature to theists and naturalists. However, he does not say that this was a new principle, one that was not previously thought necessary.

As John P. McCaskey points out in Induction Without the Uniformity Principle, the principle of uniformity goes back to Richard Whately and J. S. Mill and is based on their view of induction, which has this form:

This is true of some.
What is true of some is true of all.
Therefore, this is true of all.

The second statement (the major premise) is a uniformity principle. J. S. Mill made this central to induction. In 1843 he wrote:

Every induction is a syllogism with the major premise suppressed; or (as I prefer expressing it) every induction may be thrown into the form of a syllogism, by supplying a major premise. If this be actually done, the principle which we are now considering, that of the uniformity of the course of nature, will appear as the ultimate major premise of all inductions.

But in fact induction does not require a uniformity principle. McCaskey points out:

The other, and older, way to think about induction—Aristotle’s way, later revived during the Scientific Revolution—was to think not of particular and universal statements but of particular things, kinds of things, and universal properties, especially defining properties. If, say, attracting iron is a defining property of magnets, then by definition all magnets attract iron. In this way of thinking, the hard part is to figure out what properties should qualify as necessary to the class.

McCaskey’s whole article is worth reading but let me quote two more paragraphs:

The whole project of mature abstract thought is to identify similarities and differences, uniformities and changes, and to classify accordingly. And that—to Aristotle and followers such as Bacon and Whewell—is what induction is.

For them, classification, and therefore induction, comes before uniformity, not the other way around. It’s not that you must presume uniformity in order to classify. It’s that you classify to find uniformities. For Whately, uniformity is primary. For Aristotle’s followers, classification is primary.

These two views of induction encapsulate two kinds of science: (1) a science in which classification and the distinction of types is primary, whereas questions of uniformity or change are secondary; and (2) a science in which uniformity and uniform change are primary, whereas classification and the distinction of types is secondary.

The uniformity view of induction prepared the way for Darwin. An extreme version of the uniformity of nature prepared the way for scientific naturalism.

From theistic science to naturalistic science, part 8

Part 7 is here. Chapter 7 is on how the naturalists “won.” In short, they pushed their agenda with their opponents hardly noticing.

p. 242 – Huxley won. Modern science is practiced naturalistically, and most scientists would be baffled to think that there was any other way — precisely what the scientific naturalists were trying to achieve.

This is exactly how Huxley wanted one to think about science — it had always been naturalistic, just at times forced into a theistic prison that disguised it. All that needed to be done was to release it. However, as we have seen in previous chapters, this was not the case. The connections between theism and scientific values were deeply rooted, and indeed seemed completely necessary to most men of science.

The historical arc resulting in modern naturalism is long and complicated. Even in the Victorian period, many of the relevant ideas appeared outside science … However, I am interested in a precise, but critical, part of the story: how did practitioners of science come to embrace naturalism as essential to their work?

p.243 – The shift among men of science from the nineteenth to the twentieth centuries was remarkable. There were surely many processes involved in the way naturalists came to dominate science. I will here concentrate on three possibilities. Two of these — taking control of science education in Britain, and naturalizing theistic concepts — were deliberate strategies on the part of the naturalists, which they carried out quite effectively. The third was the broader shifts in religious life in Great Britain at the turn of the twentieth century. All three built upon the common grounds of theistic and naturalistic scientific practices to create a smooth transition instead of a disruptive revolution. This gentle shift allowed for the sense that there had been no change in science — it had always been thus.

If the naturalists wanted to truly change science, as opposed to simply promoting themselves, they needed to alter the entire system by which professors of science were made and chosen. Huxley thought strategically about how best to achieve this. A major part of his strategy was to shape the next generation of science teachers, so as to start a pipeline of like-thinking practitioners.

[Huxley] was deeply involved in the creation of biology professorships all over Britain in the 1870s and 1880s, and worked hard to influence who received those positions. His goal was to place candidates who were ideologically sound (i.e., purely naturalistic) as well as scientifically talented. In this he was quite successful.

p. 244 – [Huxley] was not reticent to share his plans in colorful language: to one correspondent he described “a course of instruction in Biology which I am giving to Schoolmasters — with the view of converting them into scientific missionaries to convert the Christian Heathen of these islands to the true faith.” These courses trained new teachers to think naturalistically, and even to see naturalistically, as Graeme Gooday has shown.

p. 246 – The exams became a way to distribute and enforce a naturalistic catechism for science. Those hoping to become science students or teachers needed to study Huxley’s syllabus, lessons, and textbooks.

Lightman comments that “every school child that read [Huxley’s] introduction to science would be trained to reject the very premises of theologies of nature.”

p.247 –  By the end of the century Huxley’s methods were well entrenched …

p. 248 – Huxley designed his teaching to stand for what Adrian Desmond calls a “distinct ideological faction” that clearly marked off acceptable (naturalistic) from unacceptable (theistic) ways of thinking about science.

In order for the scientific naturalists to dominate, they had to make their view of science seem obvious and inevitable. This goal had the major problem of two centuries of theistic science — how could science be naturalistic by definition if it had been practiced theistically for so many years? The naturalists’ strategy was to rewrite the history of their discipline to erase the long tradition of theistic science.

Moore suggests that a critical part of this process was the development of a new naturalistic theodicy based on order and progress.

p.249 – So the practices and methods of theistic scientists could often be imported into naturalistic work with simple relabeling, or sometimes without comment at all. Huxley was particularly skilled at this.

[Huxley] simply stressed the points on which they agreed — natural laws — then elsewhere argued that natural laws were solely naturalistic.

p. 251 – For Maxwell (and most theistic scientists), it made perfect sense to discuss religious matters alongside unifications of the laws of nature.

p. 254 – Opportunities to recast theistic science as naturalistic often appeared in the form of memoirs and memorials, which Huxley and friends were happy to take.

p. 256 – The key to this naturalization strategy was for Huxley to tell a new story about the history of science. By naturalizing theistic science, he was able to argue that science had always been naturalistic. That is, by naturalizing the tradition of theistic science, he was able to remove it from history completely, making naturalism the obvious and solitary way to do science. This was why he was always eager to place his arguments in the mouths of historical figures — it gave historical continuity and gravitas to those arguments.

p. 257 – Huxley’s vision of the history of science was one of expanding naturalism, beaten down occasionally by orthodoxy, but never corrupted in its purity. Theism could be found beside science, or obscuring it, though never in it. The connections between theism and science, such as natural laws, that were so clear to Maxwell and his contemporaries were relabeled as something quite different.

The changes Huxley was seeking in science were supported in powerful ways by major shifts in the social role of religion in Britain at the end of the Victorian period.

p. 258 – Jose Harris suggests that this movement of religious practice from public to private spaces was itself the result of a critical Victorian religious value — religion should be purely a matter of private conscience.

Bernard Lightman has shown that the venerable “clergyman-naturalist” tradition survived the attacks of the scientific naturalists. … The survival of theistic science was, like Edwardian Christianity in general, quiet and easily overlooked.

p. 259 – Bowler documents the efforts of these liberals to “reconcile” science and religion. But these liberals did not see themselves as continuing the Victorian tradition of theistic science. Rather, they saw themselves as beginning a new tradition of religious science that would sweep away the alleged materialism of the nineteenth century. They accepted the story that the scientific naturalists told — that theology had never been in science. Their rhetoric about how the new science was welcoming religion only made sense if science had, in fact, been purged of religious thought.

However, naturalism by no means stayed in Britain. The works of Huxley, Tyndall, and Spencer moved to America quite quickly. Their writings proved just as popular as in Britain.

p. 260 – By far the most important American convert to naturalism was John Dewey. That educational philosopher was a major figure in making naturalism the default mode of conversation in science education.

p. 261 – Dewey’s naturalistic ideas about science became central to American educational reform in the early twentieth century.

Dewey classified religious thought as “not creative but conservative.” Anti-Darwinian ideas were not religious per se, because religion could not create new thoughts. … Conversations about science had to be purely naturalistic.

Dewey was not a ferocious [evangelizing] naturalist like Huxley or Tyndall, and that is precisely why he is significant. He had become convinced that naturalism was the ordinary and obvious way to do science, and he expressed that in his philosophy of education.

p.262 – It is remarkable how the naturalistic narrative came to be the standard even for religious figures, who seem to have forgotten their own intellectual ancestry. It is important to note that Huxley’s strategies did not make it impossible to be a religious scientist — rather, they flipped the default setting for scientists from theistic to naturalistic. Religious scientists in the twentieth century were the ones under the obligation to justify themselves, just as the young Huxley and Tyndall had been forced to do.

There was no dramatic break in which naturalistic men of science had to create their own community, as Boyle and friends had to do in the seventeenth century.

p.263 – A major remaining issue is why the theistic scientists let this happen. Why were they outmaneuvered by Huxley?

To a certain degree this was simply a matter of complacency. Theistic science had been the default mode for a very long time. Proactive organization and training to protect it seemed unnecessary for the system that was already embedded in power. Theistic men of science did not seriously think that theism could be completely displaced from science, any more than Christianity could be truly displaced from the core of British life. By the time that they realized that elementary science education was in the hands of naturalists (if indeed they ever noticed), it was far too late.


p. 265 – The transition from theism to naturalism was remarkably smooth.

[The author then contrasts this with the contemporary ID movement in terms that I think are inaccurate.]

Quite different, however, is the intelligent design community of the twenty-first century. ID scholars have not been able to participate in mainstream science journals and organizations. This is generally not because of scientific dogma or prejudice, but rather because they refuse to accept the principles of the uniformity of nature, the provisional character of science, and so forth, which have been the core methodological values of science since at least the dawn of the Victorian period.

p. 266 – A major factor that sets ID apart from theistic science is the deep concerns of Maxwell and others about the further development of science. Despite his reverence for the Bible and divine creation, Maxwell worked hard to avoid what are today called “science stoppers.” … a declaration that a mysterious phenomenon will never be understood, and must simply be accepted as divine action. An important example is Michael Behe’s claims that the lack of understanding of certain biochemical processes indicates that science will never understand those properties, and therefore nonnatural explanations (chiefly divine action) must be considered. If this claim is accepted, then biochemistry is at an end — no further research can be done, and nothing new can ever be learned.

p. 267 – … what we might think of as a “naturalism gap” — professional scientists and other intellectuals are thoroughly educated in the Huxleyian views of science, while the broader public is not.

This suggests a wider problem with the use of the term naturalism by science advocates today. They use it in the same sense that Huxley did, intending to point to positive scientific values while leaving “true religion” untouched. But the term cannot seem to shake its original pejorative connotation of opposition to the supernatural. It sounds irredeemably hostile to religion, regardless of the subtleties we might want to attach to it. Modifying it to “methodological naturalism” does not help much — Plantinga is correct that is sounds like a simple cover for “provisional atheism.” Certainly Maxwell would not have agreed that his work was methodologically naturalistic — he saw God and religious considerations as critical facets of his scientific methodology.

p. 268 – Laudan notes that philosophy has not been very successful at defining science, which makes accusations that ID is “unscientific” rather vague.

Laudan points out that if creationists make claims, “we should confront their claims directly and in piecemeal fashion by asking what evidence and arguments can be marshaled for and against each of them.” If their claims are testable, they should be tested.

But if we instead declare them unscientific because they fail the test of naturalism, those claims become irrefutable. And even worse, it makes the ground rules of science seem arbitrary and dogmatic by excluding certain claims by definition. This provides ammunition to those attacking science, who do not hesitate to paint science as functioning only through oppressive authority. Refusing to acknowledge an idea because it has its roots in religion makes scientists look as though they are afraid of open debate.

p. 270 – Theistic science was once the mainstream of science, and its successes suggest that there are a variety of ways to think about the foundations of scientific practice. Today we live in Huxley’s church, and it is easy to forget that it was not always there.

The end. Part 1 is here.

From theistic science to naturalistic science, part 7

Part 6 is here. Chapter Six is on free will and natural laws. A philosophical dispute took center stage, with the future of science and society at stake.

p. 194 – Victorian society’s base assumption was that the soul and will could act freely, whether to select a meal or to accept divine grace. Being divinely created and endowed, the soul was qualitatively different from the crude matter around it and was thus exempt from having all its future states already determined as a rolling billiard ball would.

Applying the uniformity of nature to the mind, [Huxley and the scientific naturalists] said, demanded that animal and humans be considered as automata. The original Greek term meant a self-moving object, but in the eighteenth century it came to refer to an entity incapable of free will, a soulless machine.

p. 195 – It was on this issue — freedom of the will — that we can see the formation of the deepest fractures between theism and naturalism in Victorian science.

p. 199 – A particularly important natural law for physiology and psychology was that of the conservation of energy. As Frank Turner showed, that principle became one of the pillars of the naturalistic worldview, not least because of its enormous impact on questions of mind-body interactions.

p. 200 – Looking back on the previous generation of physiology [research], Huxley triumphantly declared that humans, just as much s the horse, were fuel-consuming, energy-limited machines.

p. 201 – Once physiologists could measure nerve force the way they measured the length of a limb, the mind could be treated as wholly within the uniformity of nature.

The dependence of mind on matter became a serious issue for Huxley in defending Darwin’s theory, particularly around the publication of The Descent of Man, as some critics tried to object that human mental capacity could not have evolved by physical means.

p. 202 – [Huxley] acknowledged that some objected to this position as materialistic. With his typical caginess, Huxley toyed with the meaning of the term until only “rhetorical sciolists [those who pretend to have knowledge]” could object to its use.

[Huxley:] Whatever reason we have for believing that the changes which take place in the normal cerebral substance of man give rise to states of consciousness, the same reason exists for the belief that the modes of motion of the cerebral substance of an ape, or of a dog, produce like effects.

p. 203 – These unconscious movements [e.g., reflexes] were used by Huxley as the foundation for far-reaching claims about the nature of animals and humans: his theory of automatism.

The result was the infamous “On the Hypothesis That Animals Are Automata, and Its History.” This was classic Huxley: a verbose, pointed historical narrative about the triumph of naturalism.

p. 207 – The scientific naturalists were relentless in claiming the human consciousness for the uniformity of nature. They were unwilling to accept that the mind functioned differently from the material world.

p. 210 – With the body and the mind pulled firmly within the uniformity of nature, and the will defined away, Huxley arrived at a controversial position of long standing. Commonly called determinism, sometimes necessitarianism, it was usually phrased negatively: there was no room for freedom of action in the world. The laws of nature allowed no exceptions, bringing rigid causality even to the living world.

p. 212 – Huxley’s lecture on [the method of] Zadig placed successful prediction and retrodiction as the markers of true science, and also what made it so threatening to the orthodox.

Huxley was aware that the most difficult defense of free will to stamp out would be that based on direct experience — the unbreakable sense that one can choose what to eat for dinner, therefore free will must be real. Balfour declared it “ludicrous” to think it was illusory. This subjective sense of will was impossible to observe, but equally impossible to debunk.

p. 214 – As always, Huxley delighted in turning theologians against their own. He could then paint attacks on him as simple prejudice — if Balfour truly objected to determinism, why was he not attacking Luther? In truth, was this not simply one more example of orthodoxy gone awry? Augustine and Calvin were happy to see man as a conscious automaton.

p. 215 – Huxley’s automaton theory stirred deep controversy. It was one thing for Huxley to tell people they were animals; it was something else entirely for him to tell people they were machines. Even beyond Darwin, the steam-whistle model of deterministic consciousness seemed to annihilate the last vestiges of human uniqueness. With the destruction of the possibility of an efficacious soul came a host of psychological and social threats.

p. 216 – Right and wrong could mean nothing if there was not a sense of being able to choose between them. A will must be able to choose between two alternatives or there could be no moral accountability.

p. 221 – [William] Carpenter reiterated that he understood, and indeed helped formulate, much of the physiology that the scientific naturalists claimed inevitably led to determinism. Against this he denied the possibility that “any conceivable play of molecular forces” could explain how an idea could come to dominate an entire nation.

p. 227 – Maxwell’s response to these developments appeared in an essay for the Eranus Club on science and free will. He began the essay by stating that free will was the essential problem bridging physics and metaphysics. He was clear that philosophy, religious or otherwise, must take into account the progress of science.

p. 228 – Stewart argued that there were two kinds of mechanical systems, stable and unstable. Both could be considered as machines and obeyed the laws of mechanics, but because they were regular and calculable, only stable systems had been studied closely. However, there were also unstable systems where an infinitesimal amount of energy could set a system in motion, such as when a balanced eggs falls in one direction and not another.

Maxwell was delighted with the development of the concept of instability. He argued in an anonymous review that the stable/unstable division called into question many of the fundamentals of determinism, most notably the notion of an unbroken causality that can be precisely understood.

p. 230 – At a singular state “a strictly infinitesimal force of equally possible paths, as the pointsman at a railway junction directs the train to one set of rails or another.”

The problem, Maxwell said, was that investigators had not been careful about applying results from one domain of knowledge to another.

p. 231 – There were two extremes on which Maxwell thought one could err. The first was to try to explain the emergence of consciousness from material processes.

The second extreme was to accept the existence of the soul, but then try to justify its properties in material terms.

p. 232 – [The soul] was outside the explanatory range of science.

p. 235 – The same metaphor that Maxwell constructed to explore the human will reappeared here inside containers of heated gas [in what Thomson/Kelvin called “Maxwell’s demon”].

p. 236 – The pointsman was not intended to show the unrestricted force of the will. It was meant to show that the will could act even within a wide range of restrictions.

p. 238 – It follows from [the activity of the demon] that the idea of dissipation of energy depends on the extent of our knowledge.

p. 239 – Maxwell asserted that thinking of humans simply as machines was a choice: “Either be a machine and see nothing but ‘phenomena,’ or else try to be a man, feeling your life interwoven, as it is, with many others, and strengthened by them whether in life or death.” One could either accept the reality of our experiences of volition and sociability or discard it, but rejecting that reality was asserting a particular boundary to science.

p. 241 – The evidence of uniform processes at work in the human body was agreed upon by all, but how to think about the significance of that evidence caused a profound split. The differing commitments of naturalists and theists could find no common ground on these issues. The human mind, particularly the will, became the thin end of the wedge.

Part 8 is here.

From theistic science to naturalistic science, part 6

Part 5 is here. Chapter Five is on Intellectual Freedom.

p. 153 – The narrative presented by the scientific naturalists was one of liberation. Only with the escape from dogmatic theology was science able to pursue truth and accuracy.

But this value was also widely held by religious figures, including Maxwell and his fellow theistic scientists. They agreed completely with Huxley that intellectual freedom and the right of individuals to pursue ideas were fundamental to science. However, they linked these values to true religion while Huxley defined them as opposite to false theology.

p. 154 – Huxley proclaimed his “untiring opposition to that ecclesiastical spirit, that clericalism, which in England, as everywhere else, and to whatever denomination it may belong, is the deadly enemy of science.”

p. 155 – Huxley, despite counting a number of personal friends in the ministry, concluded that “clerically-minded people cannot be accurate, even the liberals.”

p. 156 – [Huxley] blamed his own difficulty with accepting evolution on how in his “early childhood he was indoctrinated with the reasonings of a great divine [Paley].”

Even further, he was reluctant to allow women into science because they were too susceptible to these “ignorant parsonese superstitions.”

p. 157 – [Huxley:] “Ecclesiasticism says: The demonology of the Gospels is an essential part of that account of that spiritual world, the truth of which it declares to be certified by Jesus. Agnosticism says: There is no good evidence of the existence of a demoniac spiritual world, and much reason for doubting it.”

p. 158 – Huxley delighted in demonstrating the shifting sources of ecclesiastical authority, especially if he could find disagreement among the members of a group.

p. 159 – [Huxley:] “I know that I am, in spite of myself, exactly what the Christian world call, and so far as I can see are justified in calling, atheist and infidel.”

The core version of Huxley’s narrative, around which several variants were formed, was this: a pure religion emerges and provides ethical guidance, but later figures encrust that religion with dogma and doctrines that corrupt it.

p. 161 – In seeking a life free from unjust authority, Huxley regarded as the last redoubt the right to think and believe as one wished. If liberty did not mean an unbound mind, it meant nothing.

p. 164 – [After describing Huxley’s anti-Catholicism:] As bad as the Anglicans were, at least they had good taste.

p. 166 – [Huxley on the Catholic Mivart:] … “let him not imagine he is, or can be, both a true son of the Church and a loyal soldier of science.”

p. 167 – Huxley’s placement of the Catholic Church as the distillation of all that was wrong with theology also helps explain his rejection of positivism. Some of the philosophical and methodological aspects of positivism were appealing to Huxley, but he could never accept the “religion of humanity” cloak in which Auguste Comte had wrapped them. It was no better to worship philosophers than to worship saints.

p. 168 – An essential part of Huxley’s vision of intellectual freedom was the right to doubt, to criticize, and be criticized. Vigorous, even fierce debate was held to be essential to science.

p. 171 – Huxley’s praise for the open-mindedness of himself and his friends did not, of course go unchallenged. Some of his students reported that his teaching fell far short of encouraging students to think for themselves. Critics declared that men of science had come to “constitute in our day a sort of lay-priesthood, as narrow, and intolerant, and tyrannous in temper as the priesthood of the Church ever was in the days of it darkest supremacy.” Some attacked the scientific naturalists’ idolization of Darwin as exactly the sort of argument from authority that they claimed to despise.

p. 172 – It could be phrased this way: for Huxley, religious education was acceptable, but not sectarian or theological education.

p. 174 – [Huxley] had no plan for a purely secular education that involved no religious ideals, individuals, or values.

The great surprise came when Huxley approved of the reading of the Bible in the schools.

And beyond this moral value, Huxley posited that the Bible was so interwoven with English culture and life that it would be a great crime to ignore it.

p. 175 – As an antidote to theological poison, [Huxley] recommended deep drinks from “the undefiled spring.” He emphasized that it was the right and duty of every man to address the scriptures with his own judgment and without any doctrinal filter.

p. 176 – Huxley went so far as to call the Bible “the most democratic book in the world.”

p. 178 – Maxwell provides an important lesson in the variety of religious belief and practice that was sometimes mistaken for orthodoxy.

Maxwell was known to say “I have no nose for heresy” and to look for points of agreement and cooperation with those of different positions.

p. 180 – Personal decision and responsibility were the keys. Maxwell argued, from a deeply religious position, against thinking of clerics as having any special authority and for the need of individuals to come to their own conclusions — points that would seem very familiar to Huxley.

p. 182 – Victorian Protestants saw themselves as guardians of freedom as much as political radicals did. However, they saw the source of liberty to be God …

p. 184 – Like Huxley, [Maxwell] saw Roman Catholicism as a terrible institution that functioned by compelling belief and practice.

p. 186 – The theists and naturalists’ shared values provided a solid foundation on which they could work productively.

p. 187 – Beyond this intellectual and educational intercourse, the theists and the naturalists maintained “easy social relations.”

p. 188 – The theistic and naturalistic scientists were, generally speaking, not close confidants. They were colleagues.

p. 189 – Anger at Belfast

[Note: In 1874 John Tyndall addressed the British Association for the Advancement of Science (BAAA) at Belfast in which he declared science to be naturalistic. This broke the collegiality between theistic and naturalistic scientists. See Lightman.]

The sentiments offered by Tyndall were not particularly new. However, I suggest that it appeared to the theists that Tyndall was trying to use his position as president of the BAAS to enforce his naturalism: precisely the sort of institution-based coercion of belief that both parties had agreed was antithetical to science.

Maxwell recorded his reactions to the [Belfast] address in two [satiric] poems … [which] show his visceral feeling of being attacked and coerced by the scientific naturalists.

p. 191 – Calling [Tyndall] a “poet-philosopher,” Maxwell mocked the molecular creation story that depended on nothing but incompressible spheres and force, particularly the idea that such stories could explain emotion and will.

p. 192 – [Maxwell] worried that the scientific naturalists were claiming the complete monopoly on power and political absolutism of Hobbes. And as the citizens ruled by Leviathan gave up their individual political activity in favor of the monarch, Maxwell feared that the diversity of individual views within British science might be quashed by the naturalistic ideology.

Part 7 is here.

From theistic science to naturalistic science, part 5

Part 4 is here. Chapter Four on the Goals of Science Education describes how Maxwell and Huxley each volunteered to teach at the Working Men’s College but for very different reasons.

p. 119 – This idea that a religious intent is incompatible with science education is a major part of the educational side of modern scientific naturalism. The claim is that the goals of science teaching are incompatible with theist religion.

We will see that the values and goals of science education for both theists and naturalists found common ground in the classrooms of the working classes.

p. 130 – An education in science was thus a crucial part of rescuing the working classes from the linked dangers of ignorance and political radicalism.

p. 133 – Despite his many projects, Maxwell devoted a great deal of effort to working-class education over the course of his career. Why? Part of this was certainly noblesse oblige from his role as a Scottish Laird. He had a genuine sense of a need to make the most of his elevated social role.

p. 134 – Upon his evangelical conversion, Maxwell committed himself to live as an instrument of God’s will, and he seems to have latched onto teaching as an expression of that. His feeling of everyday work being part of a divine plan were quite strong.

And Maxwell had high expectations for the results of his science teaching. Practical benefit and more efficient engineering were useful side effects of science but they were not the important parts of science education. In his inaugural lecture at Aberdeen he declared that science education helped grow “that well ordered steady frame of mind and manners which belongs to educated men and by which they are distinguished from the undisciplined.”

p. 135 – Maxwell did not expect his students to dedicate their lives to science, but rather to take the mental and moral benefits that came from learning science and apply those to all professions.

p. 136 – [Maxwell:] “We are daily receiving fresh proofs that the popularisation of scientific doctrines is producing as great an alteration in the mental state of society as the material applications of science are effecting in its outward life.” This was certainly very impressive, but he worried that this influence had created a situation in which people would believe anything as long as it sounded scientific.

p. 137 – [Maxwell] was very concerned about those who claimed science as a weapon in favor of revolutionary politics or against Christianity, and explicitly framed his own science teaching as a remedy for those dangers.

p. 138 – Huxley’s interest in education stemmed from a deep-seated dissatisfaction with the existing school system in Britain, which he saw as being particularly unfair to the working classes. At best, it was inaccessible to them; at worst, it actively reinforced their subservience to an archaic authoritarian social structure. He felt victimized personally by this system, having been closed out of the Oxbridge system and its resulting career boost.

p. 139 – Adrian Desmond has argued that Huxley fashioned a low-class Dissenting image of science: no priesthood had “access to her deepest secrets”: they were accessible to anyone.

Overturning the British class system and replacing it with a social meritocracy became an enduring theme for Huxley’s career.

For Huxley, the class system’s chief weapon was the traditional British education. Its greatest sin was it instillation of blind, unthinking worship of authority.

p. 141 – Huxley said a classical education was fine, as long as you had no interest in learning anything new. For that, you needed science. … “The mediaeval view was that all knowledge worth having was explicitly or implicitly contained in various ancient writings; in the Scriptures, in the writings of the greater Greeks, and those of the Christian Fathers.”

This was in contrast to his vision of a modern university, which embraced science and the values of intellectual progress.

p. 145 – For Huxley, the beneficial effects of science education came from encountering facts. … It was the conditioning of the mind to deal with, apprehend, and appreciate facts that was valuable. He credited learning anatomy as the best way to gain these skills.

p. 147 – The traditional British liberal education aimed at the formation of character, and Huxley was unwilling to concede that ground to his enemies. He argued that science could be a moral discipline as easily as literature was. Moral lessons could follow from direct encounters with facts and the laws of nature.

p. 148 – [For Huxley] The breaking point, however, was Christian doctrine. No “theological dogmas” whatsoever could be allowed in the classroom. The imposition of belief via authority was absolutely unacceptable.

Huxley hardly hid his opinion that science education would pry the misled away from the authority of the established Church, but he certainly saw room for the survival of religion. He saw his science as a danger only to the flimsy, self-serving doctrines of antiquated theology.

p. 149 – Both [Maxwell and Huxley] were interested in training the working classes to think about truth, but Maxwell’s had a capital T — scientific truth was mainly practice for thinking about the truths of God, and the truths of man as laid down by God. Huxley’s truth, on the other hand, had no divine pedigree and its revelation was reliant on messy, human common sense.

p. 150 – The social benefits traditionally associated with natural theology gradually became co-opted over the second half of the nineteenth century by those espousing a purely naturalistic cosmology.

p. 151 – … the Working Men’s College show how science education brought Christians and agnostics together. Rather than being a wedge between the religious and the secular, science education was a glue that bound them together in a common cause.

p. 152 – Advocates of the new professional science certainly aimed for complete detachment from the old ways, but for some decades their attitudes toward education fit neatly with the religious frameworks of Maxwell and his allies.

Part 6 is here.

From theistic science to naturalistic science, part 4

Part 3 of this series is here. This post covers Chapter Three on the Limits of Science. Note: “man of science” was the common expression for scientist in Britain until the 20th c.

p. 80 – Victorian science saw many dramatic shifts in what counted as “science,” and figures such as Huxley and Maxwell were under constant pressure to justify their work as valid and reliable. Both of them, in rather different ways, struggled to clearly articulate what they saw as the proper limits of science and how their claims fell within them. For Huxley, this took the form of his agnosticism; for Maxwell, his development of scientific models.

p. 81 – The definitive work on agnosticism is Bernard Lightman’s Origins of Agnosticism. Lightman locates the roots of agnosticism at the intersection of Hume, Kant, and Dean Henry Mansel’s 1858 Brampton lectures. Mansel’s attempt to ward off historical and literary analysis of the Bible by emphasizing man’s inability to apprehend the divine was flipped by Huxley to argue that humans could make no positive statements about God, and thus that theology could never have the persuasive force of science. Following this reasoning, he took the position that if no certain knowledge of God could be attained, then there could also never be a positive denial of God’s existence. Taking Hume and Kant’s warnings about theological certainties into account, he defended “the limitation of all knowledge or reality to the world of phenomena revealed to us by experience.”

p. 83 – He worked to show that agnosticism had a genuine philosophical pedigree, and that it had genuine enemies. Those who possessed “unqualified assurance” were explicitly targeted. In particular, theologians who claimed absolute knowledge were placed as the targets for the arrows forged by Hume, Locke, and Kant.

p. 84 – Miracles violated the key principle of agnosticism–“that we know nothing of what may be beyond phenomena”–because they tried to link experience to something beyond human reason; namely, divine action.

While [Huxley] was happy to use agnosticism as a tool to deny theists their fundamentals, he was equally committed, in principle, to applying it to his allies: “To my mind, atheism is, on purely philosophical grounds, untenable. That there is no evidence of the existence of such a being as the God of the theologians, is true enough; but strictly scientific reasoning can take us no further. Where we know nothing we can neither affirm nor deny with propriety.”

p. 87 – The scientific naturalists relentlessly trumpeted their rejection of a priori, idealist, or overly speculative reasoning in science. Huxley and his allies argued that their work, unlike that of the natural theologians, was grounded in hard empirical facts about the physical world. They constantly asserted the need to limit science to claims that grew directly out of observation and experiment, thus allowing no room for theological interference or distraction.

p. 89 – Huxley described a hypothesis as a way to extend observation, not replace it. It was supposed to be a tool that functioned analogously to empirical experience. Hypotheses were to be evaluated on the grounds of their ability to provide explanation for physical phenomena that actually were directly observed.

p. 90 – The critical issue, [Huxley] said, was the gradual willingness to put aside unverifiable hypothesis as outside the limits of science.

p. 95 – [For Huxley’s ally John Tyndall] Even religion had something to contribute to the full human experience, specifically “in the region of poetry and emotion, inward completeness and dignity to man,” but not, however, in the realm of objective knowledge.

P. 96 – [Theist A. J.] Balfour actually did not disagree that human senses and reason were limited and certainly imperfect for understanding the world–he acknowledged that both naturalists and theists accepted this. His complaint was that naturalism, on these grounds, demanded “terms of surrender to every other system of belief.” The limits of naturalistic science, he argued, thus demanded too much from too little.

Further, these limits did not allow naturalism to provide many aspects of what Balfour considered to be an adequate worldview, such as morality and aesthetics. It has no “emotional adequacy.” Imagine, he said, a “catechism of the future, purged of every element drawn from any other source than the naturalistic creed.” Its inadequacy was obvious. And worse, the limits of science imposed by naturalism allowed no justification for the principles that made science possible: reliable experience of the world, the rationality of phenomena, and the uniformity of nature. He argued persuasively that science could not provide its own first principles, and therefore was not a stand-alone epistemology of nature.

As Lightman has shown, Huxley’s response to Balfour (written in the last days of his life), was not particularly strong. … Huxley fell back on the strategy of trying to control the terms of the debate: he objected to the conflation of naturalism, agnosticism, and materialism, and denied that he or anyone else held the positions being attached.

p. 97 – Maxwell was not hesitant to declare something beyond the limits of science.

Maxwell pointed out that even with modern science, humans knew nothing more about death than our earliest ancestors.

p. 98 – Like the majority of Victorian scientists, Maxwell saw observation and experience as the foundation of the practice of science.

Maxwell was not, of course, a complete empiricist. As one of the great theorists of the century, he used mathematics and speculative analysis in amazingly successful ways.

p. 99 – Just as the scientific naturalists did, Maxwell argued that hypothesis was essential to modern science.  … Intricate theoretical models using hypothetical entities were, as discussed earlier, somewhat suspect to many Victorian natural philosophers, and Maxwell constantly felt the need to discuss their scientific legitimacy.

p. 100 – [Maxwell:] “We must therefore discover some method of investigation which allows the mind at every step to lay hold of a clear physical conception, without being committed to any theory founded on the physical science from which that conception is borrowed, so that it is neither drawn aside from the subject in pursuit of analytical subtleties, nor carried beyond the truth by a favourite hypothesis.”

p. 101 The value of [energy] dynamics was that it provided a method for analyzing a system without needing to specify all of its inner working, thus avoiding the danger of misleading or inappropriate hypotheses.

p. 102 – Restrictions necessary to fit observations needed to come naturally from within the theory; otherwise, an investigator was simply forcing his pet theory onto the facts. A good hypothesis disciplined the man of science as much as mathematics did.

Generating new entities at will was precisely the sort of unscientific move that Maxwell was working so hard to avoid. He needed to convince his readers that his imagination was not out of control, speculating beyond acceptable limits. He said we should be reassured by evidence from multiple scientific disciplines pointing the same way, providing good reason to be confident in the hypothesis.

p. 106 – This suggests that Maxwell was thinking of a sort of graduated ladder of speculation–the more steps of hypothesis necessary to link an idea to observation, the less scientific the idea. As such ideas drifted from the anchor of experience, and became more reliant on reason and imagination, they could become misleading. He cautioned the reader not to confuse well-verified concepts and illustrative models.

p. 107 – A major feature of Maxwell’s scientific boundaries was that a hypothesis must be provisional.

p. 108 – [Maxwell:] “I have been carried by the penetrating insight and forcible expression of Dr. Tyndall into that sanctuary of minuteness and of power where molecules obey the laws of their existence, clash together in fierce collision, or grapple in yet more fierce embrace, bui8lding up in secret the forms of visible things … But who will lead me into that still more hidden and dimmer region where Thought weds Fact, where the mental operation of the mathematician and the physical action of the molecules are seen in the true relation? Does not the way to it pass through the very den of the metaphysician, strewed with the remains of former explorers, and abhorred by every man of science?”

“In our daily work we are led up to questions the same in kind with those of metaphysics; and we approach them, not trusting to the native penetrating power of our own minds, but trained by a long-continued adjustment of our modes of thought to the facts of external nature.”

p. 110 – Maxwell was clearly a highly synthetic thinker, and the threads of [Scottish] Common Sense, Whewellian Cambridge, and Boolean philosophy can all be seen in his articulation of the limits of science.

[Maxwell’s] vision of a divine creator who had wrapped the natural world in mystery while revealing selected portions, which was so important for his pursuit of unified laws, can be seen here as well. His evangelical God, wholly other, chose to make some aspects of the world understandable to humans despite their fallen and fallible nature. Maxwell’s sense of the divine gave him a deep appreciation that much of the world would always remain unknown while maintaining the prospect of sound knowledge.

p. 111 – Both Maxwell and Huxley stressed the importance of observation and empiricism while acknowledging the inherent limitations of human perception. Each was, in an important sense, a channel for Kantian-influenced epistemology. Both worried about the danger of rampant speculation and unverified hypotheses while also accepting the need for theory. Both saw theory as the tool that allowed science to provide deeper understanding of the unseen world, whether microscopic, invisible, or far in the past. Scientific knowledge was reliable, but necessarily incomplete, and was always vulnerable to the weakness of human reason and emotion. Natural philosophers needed physical and conceptual tools to discipline their minds and senses. Huxley and the scientific naturalists presented that views as methods for preventing theological and dogmatic intrusion into proper science. However, these limits were, at the least, deeply compatible with Maxwell’s evangelical outlook. Their similar limitations of hypothesis and scientific statement were arrived at via quite different approaches and justifications.

p. 116 – [Tyndall:] “Be careful, above all things, of professing to see in the phenomena of the material world the evidences of the Divine pleasure or displeasure.” It was the theists, he said, who tried to go beyond the limits of science.

p. 118 – As he often did, Huxley appealed to the narrative of scientific progress to imagine a time when there would be newly understood laws that would move molecular transformation back inside the boundaries of science. “It seems safe to prophesy that the hypothesis of the evolution of the elements from a primitive matter will, in the future, play no less a part in the history of science than the atomic hypothesis, which, to begin with, had no greater, if so great, an empirical foundation.”

Part 5 is here.

From theistic science to naturalistic science, part 3

Part 2 of this series is here. This post covers the last section of Chapter Two, which is on miracles. I offer some comments of my own at the end.

p. 71 – Miracles

Building on this reading of uniformity, the scientific naturalists thought they had one attack for which there was no counter. Miracles, they said, were the essence of Christianity. And a miracle, it seemed, must be a violation of a natural law, and therefore a violation of uniformity, and thus cannot be consonant with science. Taking a position on miracles, then, forced one into either the theistic or naturalistic camp. This was a maneuver emphasized repeatedly by Victorian scientific naturalists, many of whom were directly inspired by David Hume.

During and after the Reformation, the general Protestant view was that miracles had been limited to biblical times, and could no longer be found. This was a strategic move to differentiate them from superstitious Catholics calling for their saints’ protection, and also to anchor the Bible’s authority over ecclesiastical tradition–only it had true miracles. This position came under scrutiny for theological reasons from, among others, John Henry Newman and Horace Bushnell, who wanted to abandon the limitation of miracles to biblical times and accept modern ones.

Huxley chose miracles as the subject for some of his famous battles with Gladstone, and developed his ideas further in his book on Hume. He argued that an observation of an apparently miraculous event (say, the unsupported floating of lead in midair) would be no evidence that the laws of nature had been suspended. A man of science would then simply investigate to find the hitherto-concealed laws that allowed such a a thing to happen. Humanity’s limited experience with the world would inevitably lead to gaps, but those gaps could not be used to show divine intervention…

p. 72 – Usually even a small amount of thought could provide naturalistic explanations for otherwise mysterious events, such as miraculous healings. He warned against anyone declaring an event to be impossible on the grounds of natural law, as that would play into the hands of “ecclesiastical apologists” and their worship of absolute statements. One could say an event was improbable, but even the most extraordinary events did not threaten the laws of nature.

Huxley’s typical approach to addressing miracles was distinctly Humean–instead of questioning whether the miracle occurred, or could have occurred, he questioned the witnesses and the reliability of their account. … Only an expert committed to naturalism could be a reliable witness.

The next move was a brilliant use by Huxley of the social context of his listeners. Of course, he said, everyone in his audience was a good Protestant who would never believe Catholic medieval miracles. And yet, “if you do not believe in these miracles recounted by a witness whose character and competency are firmly established, whose sincerity cannot be doubted, and who appeals to his sovereign and other contemporaries as witnesses of the truth of what he says, in a document of which a MS. copy exists, probably dating within a century of the author’s death, why do you profess to believe in stories of a like character, which are found in documents of the dates and the authorship of which nothing is certainly determined, and no known copies of which come within two or three centuries of the events they record?”

These “stories of a like character” were, of course, the Gospels. Huxley stressed that knowledge of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John was essentially zero when compared to knowledge of Eginhard. He thus trapped his audience into either siding with Catholic superstition or admitting the unreliability of the New Testament.

p. 75 – There was widespread agreement among theistic scientists that (as with Huxley) apparent violations of natural law were illusory. Many other Christians agreed–Frederick Temple declared, “There may be instances where this Order is apparently broken, but really maintained, because one physical is absorbed in a higher.” That is, an event that appeared to be outside the laws of nature actually was lawful, but it simply obeyed a law of which humans were not yet aware.

What, then, of the supernatural? Would not religious believers need violations of natural law to be assured of the existence of supernatural forces? One of the prices of this strategy was that, in an important sense, the category of the supernatural faded away (or was at least redefined).

p. 76 – So far, these theists were in almost complete agreement with Huxley and Tyndall. Did that not hem them into precisely the dilemma of choosing between uniformity and divine action? They replied strongly in the negative: God could still watch over his creation and enact his plans, but through natural laws, not with interruptions of the natural order. … The deity could manipulate natural laws in a variety of ways without violating their essence, and could produce any of the fantastic events recorded in scripture. This idea had a long genealogy in Christianity going back to Augustine.

p. 77 – Frederick Temple argued that even if science were to someday give an explanation of all the miracles in the Bible, it would not at all change their role in revelation. The miracle could be in their timing, or intent, or effect, rather than in the breach of uniformity. This fit well with a traditional Protestant distinction between miracles, which required an objective witness to provide proof of supernaturalism, and special providence, which appeared to be normal events–excepts when viewed through the eyes of faith. So this move would essentially eliminate the category of formal miracles and subsume all divine actions under special providence.

Discussion: The theists lost the debate on miracles by either (1) accepting Hume’s definition of miracles as violations of the laws of nature, or (2) accepting that God’s laws for creation were all “natural” with no supernatural laws or no supernatural laws that could affect the natural world. I think the solution for theists is to reject Hume’s definition of a miracle, and emphasize that God has laws for all of creation, which includes both natural and supernatural/spiritual worlds.

Miracles should be defined as of two types: (a) transcendent miracles, such as the creation of something from nothing, which exhibit the transcendence of God, and (b) the operation of supernatural laws that affect the natural world. We divide creation into natural and supernatural worlds but there is one reality, and what happens in one can affect what happens in the other. These supernatural laws are beyond the purview of empirical science, but empirical science can and should recognize that theology based on revelation provides legitimate knowledge of supernatural reality.

Part 4 is here.

From theistic science to naturalistic science, part 2

Part 1 of this series is here. The excerpts below barely do justice to what is in the book.

Chapter Two is on the uniformity of natural laws, also called the uniformity of nature.

p. 34 – … the assumption that the universe was governed by uninterrupted laws was a fundamental part of natural philosophy. By the end of the nineteenth century, Huxley and his allies were using this concept as a bludgeon to drive theism out of science, and it continues to be used so today under the rubric of scientific naturalism. It is impossible, say the naturalists, for divine action or intervention to have any role in a world that runs by uniform natural laws.

p. 35 – The critical point is to understand that uniformity was a core principle of science throughout the nineteenth century for both theists and naturalists, despite each group claiming it as uniquely theirs.

The Victorian case for theistic laws of nature was laid out most clearly and influentially by the Reverend Baden Powell in his 1838 The Connexion of Natural and Divine Truth.

p. 36 – … the uniformity of nature itself was evidence for a divine creator. A universe in which natural laws were uniform and regular was one that was clearly designed to be that way.

Reducing God to only a “confession of ignorance,” as in the case of Newton’s arguments for planetary stability, was bad science and bad religion. Why? Because it allowed for violations of uniformity, which was critical for both …

p. 37 – “To speak of apparent anomalies and interruptions as special indications of the Deity, is altogether a mistake. In truth, so far as the anomalous character of any phenomenon can affect the inference of presiding Intelligence at all, it would rather tend to diminish and detract from that evidence.”

[Maxwell’s] award winning investigation of Saturn’s rings began with a statement that is was inconceivable that terrestrial mechanics might not apply to distant planets.

“I think each individual man should do all he can to impress his own mind with the extent, the order, and the unity of the universe, and should carry these ideas with him as he reads such passages as the 1st Chap. of the Ep. to Colossians …”

Maxwell instructed his students that once they understood the constancy and universality of natural laws, they would “begin to understand the position of man as the appointed lord over the works of Creation and to comprehend the fundamental principles on which his dominion depends, which are these–To know, to submit to, and to fulfill, the laws which the Author of the Universe has appointed.”

p. 41 – If nature were like a book, then there was a single argument–a common thread holding together the text that could be used to interpret and understand the whole.

p. 42 – Maxwell’s claim that laws were “parts of one universal system” was arguing that there was a plan to the interrelationship of natural laws.

p. 43 – Warning off the scientific naturalists, [Maxwell] declared that “no theory of evolution can be formed to account for the similarity of molecules, for evolution necessarily implies continuous change, and the molecule is incapable of growth or decay, of generation or destruction.”

Paley emphasized complexity as the indicator of God’s hand; Maxwell emphasized unity.

p. 44 – Maxwell did not think that any hypothesis proved, or was proved by any specific religious statements. He was willing to make broad, general claims about the theology of nature (such as in his molecules lecture), but was quite hesitant to directly link particular scientific ideas to any part of religious doctrine …

p. 45 – Science was expected to advance and change rapidly in a way religion (specifically Christianity) was not. Maxwell was concerned to protect both science and religion from this mismatch. … Harmonization of science and religion should instead rely on broad theological truths (e.g., God as benevolent creator) and broad scientific guidelines (e.g., physical forces are fundamentally unified).

p. 48 – John Brooke has argued that an “archetypical evangelical scientist” would probably have a biblically informed philosophy of nature, be averse to speculative hypothesis due to humility before God, be sensitive to the uses and limitations of natural theology, and insist on harmony between true science and true religion. An important distinction to be made when thinking about evangelical science is between natural theology (in the sense of grounding religious truths in the natural world) and a theology of nature (recognition of the role of God in nature). The evangelicals preferred the latter …

p. 49 – Such evangelical theologies of nature often critiqued Paley for not accepting the “dysfunctional aspect of creation,” and integrated visions of sin and evil.

p. 52 – In sum: far from uniformity being antithetical to religious thinking, many scientists and philosophers concluded that uniformity only made sense in a theistic world. Without an ordering force (i.e., God), one would expect the universe to be a mishmash of chaotic events. The only guarantee for constancy of the laws of nature was the intent of the lawgiver.

Huxley worked from the axiom that any role for the divine in the natural world made uniformity impossible.

p. 55 – This declaration of uniformity in the living world, sometimes hidden, was a common point agreed upon by both Huxley and theists. Beginning with this emphasis was a strategy that would become quite frequent for him, reiterating that everyone agreed on the importance of natural laws and uniform processes. Then came his paring away of Owen’s work–his opponent’s practice might appear to follow these rules, but in fact should be seen as quite different.

Such theistic science was marked [by Huxley] as being preempirical and dogmatic. And this was not simply a matter of terminology or metaphysical preference, Huxley warned. It led directly to incorrect scientific practice, such as [Owen’s] seeing unwarranted similarities between skulls and vertebrae.

Adrian Desmond and other scholars have noted that Huxley’s opposition to Owen’s archetypes carried with it a side effect: hostility to the idea that species undergo progressive change and adaptation. He came to associate the claim that creatures changed significantly over time with idealist theism, and worked hard to show that the fossil record demonstrated that animals largely persisted in form. [ironic!]

Huxley linked directly this divine inference with the idea of biological structures being adapted to a purpose.

p. 58 – Any hesitancy [Huxley] felt regarding the details of Darwin’s theory was obscured in the ensuing public debate. Instead, Darwin became the emblem for his naturalistic worldview. His anonymous review in the Times laid out his plan to use the Origin to demonstrate what uniform, non-theistic science should look like. Quickly dismissing the possibility of a literally correct Genesis, he also declared that any direct act of creation was not a part of science. Divine action was not only placed in complete opposition to natural law, but the replacement of the first by the second was described as the chief marker of the development of science…

Darwin was credited with finally bringing the living world under the jurisdiction of laws of nature, and extending uniformity to all things.

p. 60 Briefly, belief in theistic evolution–that is, evolution guided, planned, or supported in some way by God–was widespread, and many theists commented on how Darwin’s ideas had extended uniformity throughout the world of life. Temple stated: “Once more, the doctrine of Evolution restores to the science of Nature the unity which we should expect in the creation of God.”

Unsurprisingly, the scientific naturalists rejected this interpretation completely..

p. 61 – [Huxley] often used the idea that laws were just regularities (and therefor had no ontological reality) as a weapon against theists presenting natural laws as God-given.

Huxley publically declared himself to be an adherent of evolution in 1868.

p. 64 – [Huxley] was certainly deeply committed to denying any barrier between the organic and inorganic world.

p. 68 – Over time Huxley attacked theistic laws far less, and increasingly targeted scriptural literalism in science as the chief enemy. “As the geologist of my young days wrote, he had one eye upon fact, and the other on Genesis; at present, he wisely keeps both eyes on fact, and ignores the pentateuchal mythology altogether.” This was likely a strategy to make his work more palatable to moderates, and to make uniform laws a wedge issue; men of science were pressured to either agree with him or ally themselves with the radical literalists. This also helped sharped the distinction he often drew between religion and theology, fingering the dogmatic theologians as the real opposition. In his last two decades he structured his attacks more carefully to claim uniformity as a wholly naturalistic category fundamentally opposed to theological conceptions of nature.

p. 69 – [Huxley] increasingly presented naturalism and supernaturalism as a zero-sum game, making any allegiance to natural laws seem to be a division from religion.

p. 70 – Theology, not religious belief per se, was the enemy. Theology was the intruder on science. Slavish literal interpretation of the Bible was one of its weapons. And most dramatically, these absurd beliefs had come to an end, thus marking any further resistance as antiquated and ridiculous. Uniformity was proposed as synonymous with rationalism, progress, and naturalism.

Science, as a complete scheme of the universe could have no interaction with theology other than accepting its surrender.

[There follows a section on miracles, which I will cover in a separate post.]


p. 79 – A theistic guarantee for uniformity was the standard, and when Huxley’s circle pushed for a novel approach, they were the ones who needed to justify that it could provide the same foundations as the old approach. They argued that naturalistic practice adhered just a closely to uniformity as theistic, even as they stressed that theism was incompatible with uniformity. By following existing practices (though they claimed to be completely new), the naturalists could move into existing scientific institutions, projects, and journals without serious disruptions.

Part 3 is here.

From theistic science to naturalistic science, part 1

Huxley’s Church and Maxwell’s Demon: From Theistic Science to Naturalistic Science by Matthew Stanley (Univ. of Chicago Press, Nov. 2014) is basically the first book to tell the story of how science was redefined in the 19th century. Most people don’t know it even happened and few know how. I bought a copy of this book and will give some excerpts and comments here.

Every paragraph of the Introduction is worth excerpting but let me pick a few key points. He starts with the contemporary debate initiated by the intelligent design movement, which criticizes the adoption of naturalism by the scientific community, then introduces his main theme:

p.2 – Naturalism has a history. The existential connection of naturalism with science is a relatively recent development. Further, naturalism has a specific birthplace. Despite naturalism’s high profile in modern American courts, its roots are in Victorian Britain. It was not until the end of the Victorian period (1837-1901) that naturalism became a common way to think about science, and it was a distinctively British creation. Regardless of this late and local appearance, naturalistic science has come to be seen as universal and eternal. Somehow the long-standing practice of nonnaturalistic science has been forgotten.

p.3 – The naturalists had to fight for their definition of science.

The history of naturalism in a broader conceptual sense is more controversial. It is complicated by a frequently drawn distinction between “methodological” naturalism and “metaphysical” or “ontological” naturalism.

p.3 – In the Victorian period, naturalism was only one possibility of how to practice science. Because science today is naturalistic, it is easy to overestimate the influence of scientific naturalists in the past.  … Far more central was the tradition of practicing science in close embrace with Christianity. This had been the standard in Britain since the days of Robert Boyle and Isaac Newton.

I will refer to this tradition as “theistic science.” Its practitioners were overwhelmingly Christian (and largely Protestant), but the term Christian science would be confusing for obvious reasons. … Theistic science, like naturalistic science, should be considered in terms of methodology, not in terms of particular theoretical allegiances. Theistic science was a way to do science. This is not a story about science versus religion. All parties discussed here, theist and naturalist, cared deeply about science and wanted it to thrive. Rather, the question was about how religious ideas and values should appear in scientific practice, if at all.

p.4 – The core of this book explores the relationship between the methodological values of theistic and naturalistic science: that is, the foundational principles on which scientific researchers were expected to base their work. As already discussed, our modern expectation is that theism should dramatically change the way science is done. Here I will argue that this was not the case in Victorian Britain, the birthplace of scientific naturalism. Instead, both theistic and naturalistic science held virtually identical methodological values. While this is remarkable on its own, it is even stranger when we see that each group argued that proper scientific methodology could only be justified in their worldview.

p.5 – To explore these issues, this book will focus on one major representative from each of the theist and naturalist camps, with supporting figures appearing as necessary. … Naturalistic will be represented by T. H. Huxley (1825-95), pioneering biologist, iconoclastic science educator, and public spokesman for science. He was one of the major figures in creating and propagating naturalistic science, and was closely involved with virtually all the strategies, forces, and social developments that eventually led to the dominance of naturalism. Theistic science will be examined through James Clerk Maxwell (1831-79), the physicist whose work revolutionized electricity, magnetism, thermodynamics, and optics. Maxwell’s contributions to science have survived the test of time, and as a conservative evangelical, he cannot be dismissed as someone who was not genuinely religious. He was a product of the long-standing tradition of theistic science that Huxley sought to overthrow, and helps demonstrate the powerful social, cultural, and intellectual forces that made that tradition productive.

Despite precedents in France, scientific naturalism in the modern sense was a peculiarly Victorian creation, and we need to understand the particulars of religion and science that made it possible. … [p.6]The established Church of England dominated intellectual and educational life in many ways, both propagating theistic science and providing the impetus for the development of naturalistic science. Despite Anglican power, this was an age of increasing religious diversity, which provided important resources for the growth of naturalistic science. The scientific naturalists sought not only to battle established religion, but also to set up their worldview as an alternative framework for a full intellectual and cultural life. Huxley wanted not only a new science, but a new church.

In Chapter One – Religious Lives, the author gives brief bios of Maxwell and Huxley: Maxwell was born into an aristocratic Scottish family, had an avid interest in how things worked, studied in Cambridge, had an intense conversion experience, was comfortable with established and dissenting (e.g., Baptist) churches, and died suddenly in 1879. Huxley had to make his own way in the world, was mostly self-taught, supported himself (and his family) mostly by writing, was well-versed in the Bible, and was a life-long opponent of established churches and their influence. Some excerpts:

p.14 – Natural theology was overwhelmingly the standard context for the practice of science in the early nineteenth century.

p. 24 – Huxley and friends began an assault against the Anglican Church’s control that would last decades. They wanted to ensure, however, that their attacks were not misconstrued. They emphasized that they were not against religion, they were against theology. Most of the scientific naturalists had religious upbringings and maintained their Christian values of sincerity, honesty, moral earnestness, and respect for the Bible.

p.25 – [Huxley’s] critique of the old aristocracy with a new meritocracy was exactly what those young men of science hoped for.

This sense of religion as apart from theology was usually characterized in a Romantic fashion, emphasizing emotion and feeling instead of reason.

p.26 – Real religion, based on emotion, could remain untouched by science.

The naturalists made the case that this kind of religion was not their invention, but was rather the true religion that had been disguised by centuries of clergy. … In particular, religion’s purity was opposed to the corruption of the Anglican Church. They saw their attacks as part of a “New Reformation” intended to restore that pure Christianity.

p.28 – Darwin gently probed Huxley’s views on species change, only to be rebuffed by Huxley’s strong feelings about the fixity of species. But when the Origin appeared, Huxley swore his loyalty despite his reservations about the truth of natural selection. What he was fascinated by was not so much the content of the book as its purely naturalistic approach to the living world. As Ruth Barton has argued, “Huxley’s defence of Darwin was less a defence of Darwin than the kind of theory he propounded.”

p. 29 – The debates over Darwin became set in the public imagination as an epic battle between science and theology.

p.30 – It may be too strong to say that the scientific naturalists engaged in a conspiracy to take over science — but it is close.

p.31 – The debaters did not see the struggle as between science and religion, but rather between theistic and naturalistic views of science.

Part 2 is here.