Astronomy Creation



The Privileged Planet



Books

By Guillermo Gonzalez, Jay Wesley Richards
The privileged planet: how our place in the cosmos is designed for discovery

By Michael Munowitz
Knowing: the nature of physical law



What if the cosmos is all that there is?

Are you a materialist? Materialism (the philosophy) suggests that "physical matter is the only reality, and that everything-including thought, feeling, mind, and will, can all be explained in terms of matter and physical phenomena."

Or perhaps you prefer the term naturalist. You believe that all can be explained in terms of natural causes and laws. Nothing has moral, spiritual, or supernatural significance.

Carl Sagan once said: "The cosmos is all there is, or was, or ever will be."

Douglas Futuyma in Science on Trial: The Case for Evolution, says:

"Some shrink from the conclusion that the human species was not designed, has no purpose, and is the product of mere mechanical mechanisms—but this seems to be the message of evolution."

Richard Dawkins in The Blind Watchmaker:

"Natural selection is the blind watchmaker, blind because it does not see ahead, does not plan consequences, has no purpose in view. Yet the living results of natural selection overwhelmingly impress us with the appearance of design as if by a mater watchmaker, impress us with the illusion of design and planning."`

Francis Crick in The Astonishing Hypothesis:


"The Astonishing Hypothesis is that you—your joys and your sorrows, your memories and your ambitions, your sense of personal identity and free will, are in fact no more than the behavior of a vast assembly of nerve cells and their associated molecules"

What if all this is true? What if the cosmos and the chemicals and the particles really are all that there is, and all that we are?

"If man has been kicked up out of that which is only impersonal by chance , then those things that make him man-hope of purpose and significance, love, motions of morality and rationality, beauty and verbal communication-are ultimately unfulfillable and thus meaningless."
—Francis Schaeffer in The God Who Is There
"Eventually materialist philosophy undermines the reliability of the mind itself-and hence even the basis for science. The true foundation of rationality is not found in particles and impersonal laws, but in the mind of the Creator who formed us in His image."
—Phillip E. Johnson,
Defeating Darwinism by Opening Minds
"Can man live without God? Of course he can, in a physical sense. Can he live without God in a reasonable way? The answer to that is No!"
—Ravi Zacharias, Can Man Live Without God
If you are an atheist, a materialist, a pantheist, or a naturalist, try to answer the following 11 questions:

"If all of life is meaningless, and ultimately absurd , why bother to march straight forward, why stand in the queue as though life as a whole makes sense?" —Francis Schaeffer, The God Who Is There

If everyone completely passes out of existence when they die, what ultimate meaning has life? Even if a man's life is important because of his influence on others or by his effect on the course of history, of what ultimate significance is that if there is no immortality and all other lives, events, and even history itself is ultimately meaningless?

Suppose the universe had never existed. Apart form God, what ultimate difference would that make?

In a universe without God or immortality, how is mankind ultimately different from a swarm of mosquitoes or a barnyard of pigs?

What viable basis exists for justice or law if man is nothing but a sophisticated, programmed machine?

Why does research, discovery, diplomacy, art, music, sacrifice, compassion, feelings of love, or affectionate and caring relationships mean anything if it all ultimately comes to naught anyway?

Without absolute morals, what ultimate difference is there between Saddam Hussein and Billy Graham?

If there is no immortality, why shouldn't all things be permitted?(Dostoyevsky)

If morality is only a relative social construct, on what basis could or should anyone ever move to interfere with cultures that practice apartheid, female circumcision, cannibalism, or ethnic cleansing?

If there is no God, on what basis is there any meaning or hope for fairness, comfort, or better times?

Without a personal Creator-God, how are you anything other than the coincidental, purposeless miscarriage of nature, spinning round and round on a lonely planet in the blackness of space for just a little while before you and all memory of your futile, pointless, meaningless life finally blinks out forever in the endless darkness?

cientific lessons about the origins of life have long been challenged in public schools, but some Bible literalists are now adding the reigning theory about the origin of the universe to their list of targets.
Nearly overlooked in the furor over the Kansas school board's vote in August to remove evolution from its education standards was a decision on the teaching of the science of the cosmos. Influenced by a handful of scientists whose literal faith in the Bible has helped convince them that the universe is only a few thousand years old, the board deleted from its standards a description of the Big Bang theory of cosmic origins, the central organizing principle of modern astronomy and cosmology.

The Big Bang theory, based on decades of astronomical observations and physics research, suggests that the universe originated in a colossal explosion of matter and radiation some 15 billion years ago.

But "young Earth creationists," as they are generally known, have come up with their own theories to explain how cosmic history could be condensed into mere thousands of years. They are making this case in books, pamphlets and lectures, as well as on a number of Web sites.

Mainstream scientists consider their theories to be wildly out of line with reality, even though books describing them are often liberally sprinkled with references to authorities like Albert Einstein and Stephen Hawking.

As a result, physical scientists now find themselves in a fight in which they have seldom played a public role. They have responded with a mixture of disdain, disbelief and consternation, and the reactions have not been limited to physicists and cosmologists in Kansas.

"It's the denial of what understanding we have of the origin of the universe in terms of modern science," said Jerome Friedman, a physicist at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology who was awarded a Nobel Prize in 1990 for collaborating in the discovery of the subatomic particles called quarks and is the president of the American Physical Society. "That's a terrible loss," Friedman said.

Hume A. Feldman, a cosmologist at the University of Kansas in Lawrence who has worked at Princeton University and the Canadian Institute for Theoretical Astrophysics, called the matter "frightening."

"When I went into cosmology," Feldman said, "I never thought I would get involved in anything like that."

Feldman said that developments in his state bore a distant resemblance to the difficulties of political scientists under Communist regimes in Eastern Europe, and that he feared that such pressures could impair the educational system.

But advocates of the creationist view say alarm over their theories is overblown. Steve Abrams, a member of the Kansas board and a veterinarian in Arkansas City who was among the leaders of the push to make the changes, said there were legitimate scientific doubts about whether the universe was more than several thousand years old.

"There is sufficient data to lend credibility to the idea that we do not have all the answers for teaching the origin of our universe," he said.

That sentiment was echoed by John W. Bacon, a board member from Olathe who also voted with a narrow 6-4 majority for the changes.

"I can't understand what they're squealing about," Bacon said of scientists who oppose the board's action. Millions or billions of years ago, Bacon said, "I wasn't here, and neither were they. Based on that, whatever explanation they may arrive at is a theory and it should be taught that way."

Those objections closely mirror criticisms leveled at evolution by its opponents. Alabama biology textbooks, for example, must carry a warning that reads in part: "No one was present when life first appeared on earth. Therefore, any statement about life's origins should be considered as theory, not fact."

The Kansas challenge to the teaching of the Big Bang is not the first public objection to the theory on religious or political grounds. Three years ago, the school superintendent of a conservative county in western Kentucky ordered two pages that explained the Big Bang in grade-school textbooks to be glued together. The superintendent said that the Big Bang should not have been explained without including the biblical version of creation as well.

The change in the Kansas standards does not preclude the teaching of mainstream biology, physics or cosmology, allowing teachers to present alternative viewpoints if they choose to do so. But because the standards are used as the basis for state tests, the changes will probably have a practical effect on what is taught, said Bill Wagnon, a professor of history at Washburn University in Topeka and a board member who voted in the minority. Students' scores on those tests help determine whether a school receives accreditation from the state.

"The curriculum standards describe that process of what needs to be covered," Wagnon said.

So radical were the Kansas board's recommendations that it has been unable to publish its own standards, or even to display them on its Web site. That is because the standards include long extracts from a book on education standards that was published by the National Research Council. Because of its disapproval of the board's revised standards, the Council has refused permission for them to be reprinted.

Beyond the expunging of evolution, the board also took out references to the hundreds of millions of years of Earth's geologic ages and modified sections on using the slow decay of radioactive elements to measure the ages of fossils and other rocks.

Among the most striking changes was the removal of passages in the original standards dealing with the Big Bang. Cosmologists see ample evidence for that explosion in the present expansion of the universe, in a diffuse afterglow in space called the cosmic background radiation, and in the precise abundances of light elements like hydrogen and helium that were left over from the cataclysm.

Cosmologists have also calculated the way in which stars, galaxies and clusters of galaxies coalesced from slight ripples in the primordial soup that emerged from the Big Bang. To date, the results of those calculations match the precise observations of such structures in the heavens. Of course, for all its success in accounting for observations, the Big Bang is indeed just a theory, although it is one with few scientific dissenters.

The biggest problem for the young Earth creationists is explaining the time that has apparently passed since the light we see from distant galaxies was emitted. Given the constancy of the speed of light and estimates of the distance between Earth and faraway galaxies it is difficult to explain how Earth and the cosmos could be young.

But D. Russell Humphreys, a nuclear weapons engineer at Sandia National Laboratory who is also an adjunct professor at the Institute for Creation Research near San Diego, thinks he has an answer. In an interview, he said that Einstein's equations of relativity, the basis of the Big Bang theory, could be used to construct a universe in which the Earth is only a few thousand years old.

Abrams said that in thinking about the Kansas standards he had been struck by Humphreys's book, "Starlight and Time: Solving the Puzzle of Distant Starlight in a Young Universe" (Master Books, fifth printing in 1998).

Humphreys's ideas "seem to be right there on the cutting edge, so to speak," Abrams said.

But most cosmologists say they are simply out of left field.

The theory relies on a peculiar feature of Einstein's equations, which predict that powerful gravitational fields can speed the progress of time and, in effect, make clocks run at different rates in different places. So Humphreys assumes that the Earth is close to the center of a structure related to a black hole, in which gravity is especially intense, so that billions of years could pass in deep space while only a few thousand years went by on Earth.

Such a universe "has clocks clicking at drastically different rates in different parts," Humphreys said in an interview.

Edward L. Wright, vice chairman for astronomy at the University of California at Los Angeles, said that there is no evidence that the Earth is at the center of the universe, or that such tremendous gravitational fields exist outside of ordinary black holes.

Moreover, Wright said, the acceleration of time would alter the vibrations of waves of light, shortening its wave length and turning it into deadly gamma rays. Bombarded by such radiation, he said, "the Earth would be sterilized."

Humphreys, whose research in cosmology is unrelated to his work at the lab, said other features of his model would prevent the frequency increase.

Abrams also cited a theory that the speed of light was almost infinitely fast in the past, meaning that the light from extremely distant galaxies could have reached Earth quickly and would not be billions of years old.

He referred to writings on this subject by Danny Faulkner, a professor of astronomy at the University of South Carolina's Lancaster campus and an adjunct professor at the Institute for Creation Science. In a telephone interview, Faulkner cautioned that he had merely been describing ideas put forth by other scientists in the creationist movement and was not certain that the changing speed of light was correct. Indeed, high-precision measurements of the speed of light and other crucial physical constants have revealed no detectable change in their values over recent time.

The debate over the age of the universe has exposed intense disagreements not just in schools but also among evangelical Christians.

"Often young-universe and old-universe creationists focus more energy on defending their respective positions than on reaching out to nonbelievers," wrote Hugh Ross, a former radioastronomer who is an evangelical Christian, in "Creation and Time: A Biblical and Scientific Perspective on the Creation-Date Controversy" (NavPress, 1994).

Ross thinks that a literal reading of the Bible can be reconciled with the Big Bang, but says that his views are distinctly in the minority among evangelical Christians. The six days of Genesis could stand for "six consecutive long periods of time," Ross said.

The importance of the issue for many Bible literalists means that cosmologists could face the pressures that biologists have dealt with since John Scopes was convicted of violating a Tennessee law against the teaching of evolution in 1925, said Eugenie C. Scott, executive director of the National Center for Science Education Inc., in El Cerrito, Calif.

"I don't think physical scientists are going to be immune to this," Scott said. "It would be very unwise for them to brush this off."

Since Darwin's Origin of Species (1859), many have felt that "survival of the fittest" is the source of apparent design in nature rather than God. Yet recently, serious objections have been raised against the ability of evolutionary theory to explain either the origin of life or its diversity.1 Consequently, the force of design as evidence for a supernatural alternative is strengthened.

In any case, biological evolution can hardly explain design in the nonliving part of nature. And it is just here that recent advances in science have uncovered far more evidence of design than was known in Darwin's time, or even in the 1970s. Let us consider some of this evidence.

The Right Chemistry

All life on earth depends on the cooperation of many complex biochemicals, each containing thousands or even millions of atoms. These include DNA and RNA, which store and transmit information by which living cells operate; and proteins, which provide structural material and speed up chemical reactions so that plants and animals can respond quickly to external changes. These molecules are enormously complex and detailed structures carrying on particular, specialized tasks. Such organization presents a serious challenge to the idea that life arose by chance rather than design, but that is not our subject here.2

On a much simpler level, such chemicals as carbon, phosphorus, and water suggest that life didn't just happen. Carbon is the only element in existence which forms chains of almost unlimited length, needed for DNA, RNA, and protein. All the carbon in our universe apparently formed inside stars and was scattered over space as stars exploded. Yet by two coordinated "quirks," carbon is a common element rather than a very rare one. Carbon is formed by a rare collision of three helium nuclei. It happens that the temperature inside stars is right at a "resonance" for carbon, an energy level at which these nuclei stick together unusually well. If this resonance energy were only 4% lower, carbon would be very rare. On the other hand, carbon easily combines with another helium nucleus to form oxygen. But it just so happens that the energy of the combination is just above an oxygen resonance, which is thus out of reach. If this resonance were only % higher, nearly all carbon would convert to oxygen. In either case, carbon would be very rare and life itself rare or nonexistent.3

Phosphorus is unique among the elements in forming compounds (ATP, ADP) which can store large amounts of energy. Without these compounds there would be no higher animal life since such an efficient method of energy storage is needed for mobility. Yet only phosphorus, of all the elements, has this capability. It looks like phosphorus was designed for this purpose.

Water is at least as unusual as carbon or phosphorus. Its molecule (two hydrogens and one oxygen) is lighter than molecules of nitrogen or oxygen, and thus should be a gas at temperatures suitable for life. However, water forms polymers, combinations of two or three molecules joined loosely together, so that it is actually a liquid at these temperatures. As a liquid it is the basic fluid of animal blood, tree sap, and cell plasma. Yet when water evaporates, it no longer forms polymers. This allows it to disperse in the atmosphere so it doesn't stifle life by lying on the earth's surface as an unbreathable gas. No other substance has this property.

Water is also a universal solvent, dissolving the necessary solid chemicals so they can circulate in the bloodstream, plant sap, and living cells. All other liquids which can dissolve a comparable number of chemicals are highly corrosive and deadly to living things.

Water is unusual in being able to absorb a large amount of heat for a given change in temperature. As a result, it moderates the climate of the earth and helps stabilize the body temperature of animals. Like few other substances, it expands rather than contracts on freezing. This prevents oceans and lakes from freezing to the bottom (killing marine life), and it aids in the formation of soil by splitting up rocks. Truly water is a most amazing substance. Together with the thirsty traveler on a hot day, the chemist can say, "There's nothing like it!"4

The Right Environment

The earth's environment is unique in the solar system and at least very rare in our galaxy. The temperature varies substantially from pole to equator, summer to winter, and from the Dead Sea to Mt. Everest. Yet it exceeds the boiling point of water only near volcanoes and geysers. Temperatures below freezing are more common, yet our oceans never freeze up completely, even in arctic regions. By contrast, the temperature on Venus, our nearest neighbor sunward, is about 900 degrees Fahrenheit. On Mars, the planet just beyond us, it barely gets above freezing even in midsummer at the equator. Earth alone has the right temperature range for life: warm enough for water to be liquid, cool enough that complex life molecules are not destroyed.

A substantial amount of water is needed to support life, though a few organisms have techniques for living in arid conditions. For the earth as a whole (center to surface), the fraction of water is small. But this is all concentrated at the surface, so that our globe is two-thirds covered by water to an average depth of three miles. The water on Venus and Mars is infinitesimal by contrast.

Earth has the right atmosphere. At a few per cent less oxygen, animals would not have enough to breathe. A few per cent more, and plant life would burn up. Mars and Venus have virtually no free oxygen, so necessary to most kinds of life.

Earth's gravity is just right. If the earth were only one-fourth as massive, the atmospheric pressure would be too small for life. If the earth were twice as massive, its atmosphere would work like a greenhouse in summer, raising the temperature enough to kill us all.

Earth has the right kind of sun. A sun only 20% larger would burn up its fuel in just four billion years. By now, such a sun would have expanded into its "red giant" stage, and the earth would have burned up in the sun's atmosphere. On the other hand, if our sun were only 20% smaller, it would not produce enough blue light for plants to make sugar and oxygen efficiently. Both sugar and oxygen are needed by animals, and they can produce neither themselves.5

The sun cannot vary much in brightness or life will not survive. In fact, our sun's luminosity already has varied "too much" over the past four billion years, increasing in brightness by some 25%. But the creation of plant life appears to be timed just right to save the day. As the sun got hotter, plants removed carbon dioxide from the atmosphere, replacing it with oxygen at just the right rate to turn down the greenhouse effect and keep temperatures in the range safe for life.6

This performance by the plants only worked because the earth was at the right distance from the sun. If it had been 5% closer, the greenhouse effect would have been too strong early in earth history, the plants would never have gotten started, and earth would now be a furnace like Venus. But if the earth had been only 1% further from the sun, the cooler temperatures about two billion years ago would have produced a runaway ice age, and the earth would now be like Antarctica elsewhere.7

The Right Universe

Not only do we live in a universe having the right chemistry to support life, and on a planet with the right environment for life, the basic forces in our universe are just right. Without the precise balance which exists among these forces, life would be impossible anywhere in our universe.

There are just four basic forces presently known to mankind: gravity, electromagnetism, and the strong and weak nuclear forces. The balances between these forces are precise, making possible life as we know it. Consider the delicate balance between gravity and the expansion speed of our universe. Since the 1920s it has been known that our universe is expanding, apparently from an event known as the "Big Bang" which occurred some 15 to 20 billion years ago. Whether our universe will expand forever or eventually collapse is still debated among cosmologists. In either case, the actual density of matter in our universe is within a factor of ten of the so-called critical density, the point of exact balance between permanent expansion and eventual contraction. But to be so close to this critical density after some 20 billion years of expansion, there must have been precise tuning in the earliest moments of the Big Bang. At 10 to the minus 43 seconds after the Big Bang, for instance--the so-called Planck time--the density must have been equal to the critical density to one part in 10 to the 60. If it had been ever so slightly higher, the universe would have collapsed quickly and there would have been no opportunity for life to form. On the other hand, had the density been ever so slightly smaller, the universe would have expanded rapidly and no galaxies, stars or planets would have formed. Again, no life. Thus, life is the result of fine tuning the density of matter-energy at the Planck time to one part in 10 to the 60!8

Life depends on a number of the heavier chemical elements, especially carbon, nitrogen and oxygen, but only hydrogen, helium and a few of the very lightest elements are formed in the Big Bang itself. The rest are formed inside stars. The strong and weak nuclear forces control how stars operate. If the strong force were weaker than it is, there would be no life. If it were only 50% weaker, not even iron and carbon would be stable. Even if the strong force were only 5% weaker, the element deuterium would not exist, and stars could not burn as they do. On the other hand, if the strong force were only 5% stronger, the diproton would be stable and stars would burn catastrophically. The strong interaction has to be just the right amount to have stable stars and stable elements for life chemistry.

The weak nuclear force is important too. All but the lightest elements are formed inside stars as they grow old. Were it not for the weak force, these elements would remain trapped inside the stars and be of no use for life. But when a star has used up its fuel, it begins to collapse, becoming very hot inside and producing large numbers of neutrinos. The neutrinos cause the star to explode and scatter its heavy elements through space. These elements later become part of the next generation of stars, forming planets which accompany such stars. As a result, the earth has the heavy elements so necessary for life. If the weak force were much smaller than it is, the neutrinos would escape quietly, the star would not explode, and the heavy elements would stay inside. If the weak force were much stronger, the neutrinos themselves would not be able to escape from the star, we would again have no explosion and no heavy elements would escape. So if the weak force were much different than it is, there would be no heavy elements outside the stars.

Consider one more crucial balance. Gravity is much weaker than electromagnetism (by 37 powers of 10), yet gravity dominates in the realm of astronomical distances. Why is this, since both are long-distance forces? The reason is that the positive and negative electromagnetic charges occur in equal numbers, so that at large distances they cancel each other out. But why should they occur in equal numbers? Scientists don't know. The main negative charge is the electron, a very small particle compared to the proton, the main positive charge. In modern cosmological theory, as the universe cooled down from the Big Bang, protons would have "frozen out" much earlier than electrons, and there is no obvious reason why the two should be equal in number.9 In fact, the numbers of electrons and protons left over must have been the same to within one part in 10 to the 37th power. If this had not happened, our universe would be dominated by electromagnetism instead of gravity, and there would be no life as we know it.

In summary, it appears that very slight changes in the strength or balance of these forces gives a universe which will not support any life we can imagine. What are we to make of this? The simplest explanation is that we live in a designed universe.

Explaining the Design

Scientists have been discussing the problem for several years now. As Stephen hawking has pointed out:

The odds against a universe like ours emerging out of something like the Big Bang are enormous<|>---<|>I think there are clearly religious implications whenever you start to discuss the origins of the universe. There must be religious overtones. But I think most scientists prefer to shy away from the religious side of it.10


In shying away from religious explanations, some have suggested that this apparent design is merely an accident of observation. Admittedly, life would be impossible unless all of the factors come out just right. But if life were impossible, then we wouldn't be here ourselves to observe such a universe! Conversely, there will only be observers in a universe where all these factors work out just right. This explanation, that the order in our universe is just an accident of observation, is called the anthropic principle (more precisely, the weak anthropic principle).

This is certainly clever, and true in some sense. Yet it postulates that our universe is a fluke of astronomically small probability. As an explanation, it is methodologically much inferior to any other theory in which a universe such as ours would be likely. But if the God of the Bible exists, then a designed universe such as ours would be a likely result rather than the surprise we have in an accidental universe scenario.

Not all who favor the anthropic principle are satisfied with the weak form sketched above. Some have moved into Eastern mysticism, pantheism or something equally esoteric to propose a strong anthropic principle: man has somehow caused the world to be just right for life and humanity to exist, whether because man is part of God, or because causes can produce effects backward in time. Such suggestions attempt to provide some adequate explanation for design, a serious defect in the weak anthropic principle. In evaluating such views, we should look at how evidence for each compares with that for the existence of the God of the Bible. To me, these views pale in comparison.11

What to make of all this? I suggest that we have here just one more line of evidence showing that we live in a supernaturally-created universe. Evidence of design, of a universe that had a beginning, of organization in living things far beyond what random processes can produce--these conspire with biblical evidences12 to indicate that this God is the one revealed in the Bible.

But according to the Bible, God wants us to do more than just understand the world we live in. He wants us to love him with all our being, and to love our neighbor as much as we love ourselves. We all fail these continually. If we must one day stand before God to answer for how we've lived, what will we be able to say?

In his love and mercy, God has provided a solution. Some two thousand years ago, God became man; the author entered his own story. As Jesus of Nazareth, he lived a life of complete obedience such as we never do. If we trust in his representative work done on our behalf, it is considered as though we ourselves had done it. In a few hours on a Roman cross, Jesus suffered such punishment as would take us forever to suffer. By trusting in him, his suffering takes the place of ours.

This is the kind of God that really exists. Each of us--yourself included--is extended this opportunity to turn away from a life of empty self-gratification and find the real joy of personally knowing the God who made the universe. You can choose to enter this relationship right now.

First published Tue Jul 13, 2004; substantive revision Thu Sep 11, 2008
The cosmological argument is less a particular argument than an argument type. It uses a general pattern of argumentation (logos) that makes an inference from certain alleged facts about the world (cosmos) to the existence of a unique being, generally identified with or referred to as God. Among these initial facts are that the world came into being, that the world is contingent in that it could have been other than it is, or that certain beings or events in the world are causally dependent or contingent. From these facts philosophers infer either deductively or inductively that a first cause, a necessary being, an unmoved mover, or a personal being (God) exists. The cosmological argument is part of classical natural theology, whose goal has been to provide some evidence for the claim that God exists.

On the one hand, the argument arises from human curiosity as to why there is something rather than nothing. It invokes a concern for some complete, ultimate, or best explanation of what exists contingently. On the other hand, it raises intrinsically important philosophical questions about contingency and necessity, causation and explanation, part/whole relationships (mereology), infinity, sets, and the nature and origin of the universe. In what follows we will first sketch out a very brief history of the argument, note the two fundamental types of deductive cosmological arguments, and then provide a careful analysis of each, first the argument from contingency, then the argument from the impossibility of an infinite temporal regress of causes. In the end we will consider an inductive version of the cosmological argument.

Introduction: Theism Enters the Fray

In several fields of contemporary science -- in particular, in cosmology and cosmogony -- the boundary between science and philosophy has become radically blurred. Scientific discussion in these areas is permeated with philosophy and metaphysics. As the philosopher of science George Gale writes, "it seems clear...that we are entering a phase of scientific activity during which the physicist has out-run his philosophical base-camp, and, finding himself cut off from conceptual supplies, he is ready and waiting for some relief from his philosophical comrades-in-arms."1 Since metaphysics has entered scientific debate, the theistic scientist can, without apology (though, perhaps, not without explanation), introduce theistic explanations which are as plausible as, if not superior to, naturalistic explanations.

This is a controversial thesis. But those who dispute it in the name of methodological naturalism need to explain why naturalistic hypotheses, which are no less metaphysical than theism, are to count as legitimate explanations whereas theistic hypotheses are not. In what follows, I examine three areas of current scientific debate (the Big Bang origin of the universe, the "fine-tuning" of fundamental physical quantities for intelligent life, and quantum physics and cosmology) where theism can contribute positively to the discussion.

The Big Bang Origin of the Universe

In 1922, the Russian mathematician Alexander Friedman predicted the expansion of the universe. Seven years later Edwin Hubble verified this prediction by observing that galactic light is red-shifted. When the expansion is coupled with the 1968 Hawking-Penrose singularity theorems, it leads, via a time-reversed extrapolation, to a universe which began at a point in the finite past, before which it literally did not exist.

That initial event has come to be known as the "Big Bang." This cosmological singularity, from which the universe sprang, marked the beginning, not only of all matter and energy in the universe, but of physical space and time themselves. The Big Bang model thus dramatically and unexpectedly supported the biblical doctrine of creatio ex nihilo.

Indeed, given the truth of the maxim ex nihilo nihil fit (out of nothing comes nothing), the Big Bang requires a supernatural cause. Since the initial cosmological singularity represents the terminus of all space-time trajectories, there cannot be any physical cause of the Big Bang. Rather, the cause must transcend physical space and time: it must be independent of the universe, and unimaginably powerful.

Moreover, this cause must be a personal being, endowed with free will.2 An impersonal, timeless, deterministic cause would either bring about the effect eternally or not at all. A temporal effect could originate from a timeless cause only if that cause were a personal agent, who could freely bring about the temporal effect without any change in antecedent determining conditions. The cause of the origin of the universe must therefore be a personal Creator, who a finite time ago brought the universe into existence by his free agency. In the words of Thomas Aquinas: "And this is what everybody means by God."

Alternatives to the Big Bang

Of course, the Big Bang model has its detractors, motivated in some cases by frankly anti-theological animus. As physicist Hubert Reeves remarks, the Big Bang "involves a certain metaphysical aspect which may be either appealing or revolting."3 Only slightly tongue-in-cheek, Christopher Isham observes:

Perhaps the best argument in favor of the thesis that the Big Bang supports theism is the obvious unease with which it is greeted by some atheist physicists. At times this has led to scientific ideas, such as continuous creation [steady state] or an oscillating universe, being advanced with a tenacity which so exceeds their intrinsic worth that one can only suspect the operation of psychological forces lying very much deeper than the usual academic desire of a theorist to support his/her theory.4

A good example of such deep-seated anti-theological sentiment is Nature editor John Maddox's editorial, "Down with the Big Bang," where he hoped for the downfall of the Big Bang model, because in it, he believes, theological creationists find "ample justification" for their creationist creed.5 The sub-head to Maddox's article reads,

"Apart from being philosophically unacceptable, the Big-Bang is an over-simple view of how the Universe began, and it is unlikely to survive the decade ahead." (Nature, v.340, August 10, 1989)

Maddox, correctly apprehending the theological bearing of the Big Bang, calls for alternative models, and several have been proposed.

Yet two of the leading alternatives -- the steady state model and the oscillating model -- are now generally recognized as failures. The steady state model never secured a single piece of empirical verification, could not account for the existence of more radio galaxies in the past than today, and was finally laid to rest in 1965 by the discovery of the microwave background radiation, a vestige of an earlier, very hot, and very dense state of the universe.6

For its part, the eternally oscillating model contradicts observational cosmology, which indicates that the universe would have to be ten times denser than it is to allow the universe to re-contract after reaching a maximum distension. Even if the universe did re-contract, however, no known physics could reverse such a Big Crunch and cause the universe to bounce back to a new expansion. Finally, if the universe oscillated, thermodynamics mandates that entropy accumulates from cycle to cycle. Each successive cycle expands more slowly, with a larger radius. Thus, as one traces the cycles back in time, they become progressively smaller, terminating in a first cycle and an absolute beginning. Thus, neither model provides a plausible alternative to the Big Bang.7

Quantum Models of the Universe

There is a third alternative, however. The marriage of the General Theory of Relativity to Quantum Theory has given birth to quantum models of the universe. One should say "would-be marriage": these two great theories of modern physics are mutually inconsistent, and nobody knows how to reconcile them.

Quantum models attempt a reconciliation. Prior to 10-43 second after the Big Bang, quantum physics must be employed to describe the universe. Relativity and Quantum Theory must be united to describe this brief moment.

One class of models, called vacuum fluctuation models, appeals to quantum vacuum effects to explain the origin of the universe. These theories hold that just as sub-atomic particles can emerge spontaneously from the vacuum, so the material universe could have emerged from empty space, as a fluctuation of that vacuum.

These models are closely tied to so-called Inflationary Theories of the early universe. Such theories adjust the standard Big Bang model by stipulating that around 10-35 second after the Big Bang, the universe expanded faster than the speed of light, in an "inflationary" epoch, after which it settled down to its present rate of expansion. Before the inflationary epoch, the universe was just empty space -- a vacuum. The material universe began when the energy in the vacuum converted into matter by a quantum physical process.

As one regresses prior to the inflationary epoch, the universe collapses to infinite density. But vacuum fluctuation models hold that before inflation, the Universe-as-a-whole was not expanding. What appears to be the expansion of the whole universe is really only the expansion of part of it. Our observable universe is part of a wider Universe-as-a-whole -- itself a vacuum in a steady state. Throughout this vacuum, sub-atomic energy fluctuations create material particles out of the energy in the vacuum. These then grow into separate mini-universes within the whole. We observe only our own mini-universe exanding, but know nothing about other, similar mini-universes.8

Our universe thus did not begin in an initial singularity, but emerged by an uncaused fluctuation from the vacuum of a wider background space. As this view is often expressed, the universe is a "free lunch" -- something for nothing.

Problems with Quantum Models

The congenial "free lunch" language is, however, misleading. A quantum mechanical vacuum spawning material particles is far from the ordinary idea of a "vacuum" (meaning nothing). Rather, a quantum vacuum is a sea of continually forming and dissolving particles, which borrow energy from the vacuum for their brief existence. This is not "nothing," and hence, material particles do not come into being out of nothing. Popular presentations of these models often do not explain that they require a specially fine-tuned, background space-time on the analogy of a quantum mechanical vacuum. The origin of the observable universe from this wider space-time is not a free lunch at all. It requires an elaborately set table, which must be paid for.

And here an obvious question arises. Why should we suppose that only our part of the universe (and parts like it) is expanding, rather than the whole universe?

This violates the Copernican Principle, which underlies all of modern astronomy and astrophysics. According to that principle, we occupy no special place in the universe, but see what any other observer elsewhere would see. Without the Copernican Principle, we could say that we exist at the center of the universe, or even that distant galaxies obey different laws of nature. Without compelling evidence to the contrary, we should assume that our observations are typical and that the universe we observe does not differ fundamentally from the whole. And no evidence indicates that the whole universe (beyond what we observe) is not expanding or that this wider universe has the special properties needed to spawn local universes via vacuum fluctuations.

Indeed, since we are confined to the observable universe, one wonders how we could ever have such evidence. Postulating a different, wider universe is akin to postulating God -- except that, unlike God, we have no independent reason to think that a wider universe exists. As the Dutch physicist Van der Weele muses, "We will never be able to determine which of these possibilities is actually true (if any), so all our ideas about the outer universe are doomed to remain metaphysical speculations."9 There is nothing wrong with metaphysics. But naturalistic explanations which posit realms beyond the reach of evidence are no more science, and no less metaphysics, than supernaturalistic explanations.

In any case, vacuum fluctuation models conflict with observational cosmology.10 Such models cannot specify when and where primordial vacuum fluctuations will grow into universes. Within any finite time interval, fluctuations may occur at any point in space. Given infinite past time, universes will spring into being at every point in the vacuum. As they expand, these universes will collide and coalesce -- and this contradicts observation.

One theorist avoids the difficulty by stipulating where fluctuations may occur in the wider space.11 Fluctuations which grow into universes must occur infinitely far apart in the background space, giving each universe an infinite "growing" space. But even this scenario does not avoid the difficulty. With infinite past background time, each infinite region of background space will spawn an open universe, filling the volume of that region completely. By now, all individual universes will have coalesced.

According to C. J. Isham, this difficulty is "fairly lethal" to vacuum fluctuation models, thus, they "have not found wide acceptance."12 Colliding universes can be avoided by postulating that the background vacuum space is itself expanding -- but then we must posit an origin of the wider universe itself, and we are back where we started.

Vacuum fluctuation models have now been abandoned even by some of their original expositors. Brout and Spindel contend that an explanation of the origin of the universe "must await the yet-to-come quantum theory of gravity."13 That brings us to the second class of quantum models.

The Hartle-Hawking Model

In recent years, the particular quantum gravity model which has drawn the most attention is the Hartle-Hawking model, popularized by Stephen Hawking of Cambridge University. Hawking's popularization of his views, the best-seller A Brief History of Time, is remarkable for its overtly theological orientation. Hawking admits that if the universe began to exist, then one could identify the Big Bang as the instant of divine creation.14 In fact, some attempts to avoid the Big Bang, he acknowledges, were probably motivated by the feeling that a beginning of time "smacks of divine intervention."15 Whether Hawking shares this motivation or not, he touts his model as preferable to the Big Bang because no edge of space-time exists at which "one would have to appeal to God."16

Hawking hopes that by introducing quantum physics at the universe's earliest stage, prior to 10-43 second, he can eliminate the singularity. To do this, Hawking introduces imaginary numbers -- like the square root of -1 -- for the time variable in his equations. He proposes that prior to 10-43 second time becomes imaginary, thus rounding off the singularity. Space- time in this early region is geometrically the four-dimensional analogue of the two-dimensional surface of a sphere. Any point on a sphere arbitrarily designated as the "initial" or "beginning" point is just like any other point. (In particular, it does not mark an edge or boundary to that surface.)

Thus, on Hawking's model, the past is finite, but boundless. Since imaginary time cannot be distinguished from space, no point on this sphere-like surface is actually earlier than any other point, just as no point on the surface of a ball is "earlier" than any other point. As Hawking explains:

...There would be no singularities at which the laws of science broke down and no edge of space-time at which one would have to appeal to God or some new law to set the boundary conditions for space-time.... The universe would be completely self-contained and not affected by anything outside itself. It would be neither created nor destroyed. It would just BE.17

Hawking is not reluctant to draw theological conclusions from his model:

The idea that space and time may form a closed surface without a boundary...has profound implications for the role of God in the affairs of the universe.... So long as the universe had a beginning, we could suppose it had a creator. But if the universe is really completely self-contained, having no boundary or edge, it would have neither beginning nor end. What place, then, for a creator?18

A Critique of Hawking's Model

One could criticize Hawking's model on physical grounds alone.19 But I shall look much deeper, at the philosophical or metaphysical foundations of his theory. Lawrence Sklar reminds us that such concerns are entirely appropriate:

The adoption of one scientific theory rather than another, sometimes and in very crucial cases indeed, rests as much upon the philosophical presuppositions of the scientists as it does upon the hard data of the laboratory. You can't do very good philosophy unless you get your science right. But you can't do science in full self-conscious understanding, unless you realize how much it depends upon philosophical modes of reasoning as well.20

Hawking's quantum cosmology provides a good case in point. His model is rife with unexamined philosophical assumptions which are, at best, unproven and, at worst, false.

Hawking does not take his theory to be merely a mathematical model which does not really describe the world. Such a non-realist or instrumentalist interpretation is compatible with the claim that the universe actually began to exist in real time and was created. Hawking would then only be re-describing the origin of the universe using the mathematical formalism of quantum mechanics. That there is no beginning of the universe in his model would not eliminate the beginning of the universe in reality. Hawking claims to have eliminated a real beginning and any need for a creator. Thus, he must -- and does -- take his model really to describe the early universe. But this is precisely where problems begin.

Take just one example: Hawking's use of so-called "imaginary time." Here two problems arise. First, "imaginary time" is physically unintelligible. An imaginary interval of time makes no more sense than, say, the imaginary volume of a glass, or the imaginary number of people in a room. Hawking insists that imaginary time is "a well-defined mathematical concept."21 But does that mathematical concept correspond to any physical reality? As Sir Herbert Dingle cautioned,

In the language of mathematics we can tell lies as well as truths, and within the scope of mathematics itself there is no possible way of telling one from the other. We can distinguish them only by experience or by reasoning outside the mathematics, applied to the possible relation between the mathematical solution and its supposed physical correlate.22

From both experience and philosophy it is, I think, obvious that the use of imaginary numbers for the time variable is a mere mathematical artifice. Imaginary numbers are useful when computing certain equations, but one always converts back to real numbers to yield a physically meaningful result.

Yet Hawking declines to reconvert to real numbers because then the singularity suddenly reappears. Hawking states,

Only if we could picture the universe in terms of imaginary time would there be no singularities.... When one goes back to the real time in which we live, however, there will still appear to be singularities.23

Thus, Hawking does not really eliminate the singularity. He conceals it behind the physically unintelligible artifice of imaginary time.

Secondly, using imaginary numbers for the time variable makes time a spatial dimension, which is just bad metaphysics. Space and time are essentially different. Space is ordered by a relation of betweeness: for three successive points x, y, and z on a spatial line, y is between x and z. But time is ordered in addition by a unique relation of earlier/later than: for two successive moments t1 and t2 in time, t1 is earlier than t2, and t2 is later than t1. As the philosopher George Schlesinger points out: "The relations 'before' and 'after' have generally been acknowledged as being the most fundamental temporal relations, which means that time deprived of these relations would cease to be time."24 Thus, time cannot be a dimension of space. Moreover, time is also ordered by the relations past/future with respect to the present. For example, my eating breakfast this morning was once present; now it is past. There is nothing even remotely similar to this relation among things in space.

The Time Before Time?

But perhaps Hawking can be interpreted as holding, not that time in the earliest stage of the universe is a dimension of space, but that as one goes back in time, one arrives at a point where time is replaced by a spatial dimension. The early history of the universe would thus be timeless.

Postulating a "timeless" era before time began, however, is to climb inside a contradiction. Before and after are temporal relations. Saying that this timeless segment existed before time presupposes a time before time, which is self-contradictory. Hawking seems to realize the impossibility of having two successive stages of the universe, one timeless and the other temporal, and so he adopts the bizarre position that real time is just an illusion. He asserts,

This might suggest that the so-called imaginary time is really the real time, and that what we call real time is just a figment of our imaginations. In real time, the universe has a beginning and an end at singularities that form a boundary to spacetime and at which the laws of science break down. But in imaginary time, there are no singularities or boundaries. So maybe what we call imaginary time is really more basic, and what we call real is just an idea that we invent to help us describe what we think the universe is like.25

As the philosopher Quentin Smith points out, this intepretation is "preposterous...at least observationally, since it is perfectly obvious that the universe in which we exist lapses in real rather than imaginary time."26 If Hawking were right, we could not say (for example) that Churchill died after his birth, since this describes a temporal relation between these two events.

Significantly, this philosophical critique applies not only to the Hartle-Hawking model, but to all quantum gravitational models. All derive space-time from a quantum mechanical region which is a four-dimensional space involving imaginary time. Such scenarios cannot be repaired by scientific advances, because their shortcomings are metaphysical, not physical.

If these models are interpreted non-realistically, of course, no metaphysical objection arises. But then, the models say nothing about reality. The universe really did begin to exist; and if it began to exist, it requires a supernatural cause.

Fine-tuning of the Universe for Intelligent Life

Cosmology also furnishes our second example where theology contributes positively to our understanding of the world. In recent years, the scientific community has discovered that a nexus of complex and sensitive initial conditions must be given in the Big Bang to permit the origin and evolution of intelligent life on Earth. The universe appears to have been incredibly "fine-tuned" for our existence. In the various fields of physics and astrophysics, classical cosmology, quantum mechanics, and biochemistry, discoveries have repeatedly disclosed that intelligent carbon-based life on Earth requires a delicate balance of physical and cosmological quantities. If any one of these quantities were slightly altered, the balance would be destroyed, and life would not exist.27

Changes in the gravitational or electromagnetic forces, for example, by only one part in 1040 would preclude the existence of stars like our sun, making life impossible. Changes in the speed of the expansion by only one part in a million million when the temperature of the universe was 1010 degrees would have either resulted in the universe's recollapse long ago, or precluded galaxies' condensing, in both cases making life impossible. The present temperature of the universe is so isotropic [uniform] that Roger Penrose of Oxford calculates that "the accuracy of the Creator's aim," when he selected this world from the set of physically possible ones, must have been on the order of one part in 1010(124).28

Contemporary cosmologists have attempted to eliminate some of this fine- tuning via inflationary models of the early universe. On these models, around 10-35 second after the Big Bang, the universe inflated exponentially, pushing certain poorly-tuned features of the universe out beyond our event horizon.

Yet inflationary models are extremely speculative. They rest on so-called Grand Unification Theories (GUTs), themselves speculative. No positive observational evidence establishes that the universe underwent an inflationary phase. In fact, inflationary models predict a universe possessing critical density, whereas observation supports a value ten times lower than that (see above). And no inflationary model has yet succeeded in starting and stopping inflation so as to allow for galaxy formation. Most importantly, inflationary models require the same fine-tuning which some theorists had hoped to eliminate via such models.

Figure 1

Universes not permitting intelligent life are thus inconceivably more probable than life-permitting universes. Many scientists conclude that such a delicate balance cannot be dismissed as coincidence, but requires explanation. Traditionally, that explanation would have been divine design.

The Anthropic Principle

Loath to admit design, however, some thinkers appeal to the so-called Anthropic Principle. First proposed by Brandon Carter in 1974, the Anthropic Principle takes different forms, generating confusion about what precisely the principle asserts. In The Anthropic Cosmological Principle, Barrow and Tipler state various versions of the principle, the most fundamental being the Weak Anthropic Principle (WAP). According to this principle, the astonishingly improbable properties of the universe are not surprising once we realize that we could not have observed anything else. Barrow and Tipler state:

The basic features of the Universe, including such properties as its shape, size, age, and laws of change must be observed to be of a type that allows the evolution of the observers, for if intelligent life did not evolve in an otherwise possible universe, it is obvious that no one would be asking the reason for the observed shape, size, age, and so forth of the universe.29

Thus, our own existence acts as a selection effect in assessing the various properties of the universe.

Notice the word "observed." This is crucial, because if we omit it, the resulting statement -- "the basic features of the universe must be of a type that allows the evolution of observers" -- is clearly false. The universe need not contain intelligent life. To be sure, the following statement is necessarily true:

If the universe is observed by observers within it, then its basic features must allow the existence of those observers. This is trivial, however, and does not explain why the universe has, in fact, the basic features it does.

But Barrow and Tipler contend that while the weak anthropic principle appears to be true, but trivial, it has "far-reaching implications."30 In particular, we need not explain the basic features of the universe, because there is nothing to be surprised at. The weak anthropic principle implies that we ought not to be surprised at observing the universe to be as it is -- for if the universe were not as it is, we could not observe it. No surprise is warranted. We should expect the universe to look delicately balanced. No explanation is needed, and a divine designer is gratuitous.

Surviving a Firing Squad

Does this follow from the Anthropic Principle, as Barrow and Tipler claim? Certainly we should not be surprised that we do not observe a universe incompatible with our own existence. But we still should be surprised that we do in fact observe a universe compatible with our existence, in view of the fine-tuning required.

Consider an illustration.31 Suppose you are to be executed by a firing squad of 100 trained marksmen, all of them aiming rifles at your heart. You are blindfolded; the command is given; you hear the deafening roar of the rifles. And you observe that you are still alive. The 100 marksmen missed!

Taking off the blindfold, you do not observe that you are dead. No surprise there: you could not observe that you are dead. Nonetheless, you should be astonished to observe that you are alive. The entire firing squad missed you altogether! Surprise at that extremely improbable fact is wholly justified -- and the fact calls for explanation. You would immediately suspect that they missed you on purpose, by design.

Similarly, we should not be surprised that we do not observe features of the universe incompatible with our existence. (We cannot observe that we do not exist.) Yet we should be surprised that we do observe features of the universe compatible with our existence -- in view of the enormous improbability that the universe should possess such features.32 Therefore, the weak anthropic principle fails entirely to remove our justified surprise at the basic features of the universe.

The World Ensemble Hypothesis

Proponents of the weak anthropic principle will contend that I have missed the whole point of the principle. Our surprise is justified, they would say, only if the basic features of the observable universe are co- extensive with the basic features of the Universe-as-a-Whole. Yet our observable universe, they would add, is but one member of a collection of diverse universes, within the Universe-as-a-Whole. All possible universes, including our observable universe, exist within this wider Universe. Some universes, like ours, contain life: the vast majority do not. We exist in one of the few lucky universes -- and no one should be surprised at, or try to explain, dumb luck.

This is the so-called World Ensemble hypothesis, which is typically conjoined with the weak anthropic principle. Various theories have been offered for generating a World Ensemble. Wheeler proposes an oscillating universe in which each cycle emerges with a new set of physical laws and constants.33 Linde suggests that our observable universe is but one of many different mini-universes which inflated from the original larger Universe.34 In Everett's widely discussed "Many Worlds Interpretation" of quantum physics, all possible states of a quantum measurement situation are actualized, and the observer himself splits off into each of these different worlds.35

No evidence exists for any of these theories apart from the fact of intelligent life itself. And each of the theories faces formidable scientific and philosophical objections.36 Wheeler's theory, for example, not only succumbs to the problems generic to oscillating models, but posits singularities at the termini of each cycle. It is not a model of an oscillating universe at all, but only a series of unrelated worlds. Inflationary models require extraordinary fine-tuning before inflation, so the appearance of design is not eluded. The Many Worlds Interpretation of quantum physics is so fantastic that philosopher of physics John Earman calls its splitting of space-time a "miracle." "Not only is there no hint as to what causal mechanism would produce such a splitting," he complains, "there is not even a characterization of where and when it takes place."37

Even if a multiple universe model were unobjectionable, would that rescue us from a divine Designer? The Anthropic philosopher argues that if the Universe-as-a-Whole contains an exhaustively random and infinite number of universes, then anything that can occur will occur somewhere. But why should we think that the number of universes is actually infinite, or that the multiple universes are exhaustively random? Neither postulate is necessary. To avoid intelligent design, we must assume much more than the existence of multiple universes.

"Some anthropic theorizers seem all too eager," Earman notes, "to embrace any form of world making that gives purchase to their modus operandi."38 Why this eagerness? The philosopher of science John Leslie explains that, although the idea of a World Ensemble is sketchy and faces powerful objections, still people think that it must be correct. How else could life originate?39 Yet divine design, Leslie argues, is no more obscure than the World Ensemble, nor less scientific.40 With the World Ensemble, we have already launched our bark out onto the metaphysical deep; if the God hypothesis provides us a surer passage, why not avail ourselves of it? As Leslie reminds us, those who think that "science proper" has boundaries which are easy to fix are becoming increasingly rare.41

Quantum Physics and Quantum Cosmology

In his book The Mystery of the Quantum World, Euan Squires writes, "In an effort to understand the quantum world, we are led beyond physics, certainly into philosophy and maybe even into...theology."42 The notorious "measurement problem" is a case in point.

According to the received interpretation of quantum physics, quantum systems possess dynamic properties like position, momentum, and spin orientation only when these are measured by some classical apparatus. But any physical measuring device can itself be given a quantum physical description. Thus, the problem arises that finally nothing outside quantum physics remains to make the measurment which is a necessary condition of the reality of the relevant properties.

Sometimes the measurement problem is stated in terms of the collapse of the wave function associated with a quantum system. In writing the laws of quantum mechanics, Schrodinger treated quantum entities as waves. Associated with every quantum system is a particular wave, called its wave function, symbolized by µ. The square of µ at any location gives the probability of the associated entity's being located there if it were measured. Before the measurement, the entity literally has no precise position, but a range of positions, varying in probability. Once a measurement has been carried out and the entity's position detected, however, then the probability of the entity being at that location is 1: the wave function is said to have collapsed. The measurement carried out on the quantum system brought about the collapse. This led Niels Bohr, the father of the orthodox understanding of quantum theory, to conclude that dynamic properties are not intrinsic properties of the quantum system itself, but relational properties with respect to the entire measurement situation.43

Since the classical measuring device is also describable by the equations of quantum mechanics, it, too, has an associated wave function. The measuring device itself, therefore, also lacks any intrinsic dynamic properties (such as precise location or velocity). But if the measuring device itself is not a classical system -- if it is itself indeterminate -- then it cannot collapse the wave function of the quantum system being measured. So how does the wave function collapse?

Bohr never answered this problem. He took for granted the existence of the classical measuring apparatus. Bohr's Copenhagen Interpretation of quantum physics dealt only with the interrelation between the quantum and classical realms without shedding light on either realm in itself.

An Infinite Regress of Observers

What solution is there? If we say that the wave function of the measuring apparatus is collapsed by a third device, then we are off and running along an infinite regress. Where or when along this regress do we find a non-arbitrary stopping point at which reality becomes determinate?

One might argue that quantum indeterminacy does not really matter to us, here at the macroscopic level. If we measure the position of even a paper clip to an accuracy of 1/100 cm, for instance, the complementary uncertainty in its velocity is only 10-20 m per year.

Yet quantum indeterminacy can be amplified through various devices to yield an intolerable macroscopic indeterminacy. Consider Schrodinger's infamous cat, a hapless animal imprisoned in a chamber along with a bit of radioactive substance. If, within an hour's time, atomic decay is detected, a relay causes a hammer to break a flask of hydrocyanic acid, thereby killing the cat. But if no decay is detected, the cat remains unharmed.

So -- after an hour's time -- is the cat dead or alive? Quantum theory requires us to say that because atomic decay is intrinsically indeterminate, so, too, is the state of the cat. Its state is a super-position of the two states of being alive and being dead. (It does no good to say that the cat or the measuring device collapses the wave function of the atomic particle. The entire cat cum measuring device cum atomic particle is itself describable in quantum mechanical terms, and so is indeterminate.)

Von Neumann cuts the infinite regress where human consciousness observes the quantum system. Reality thus depends (at least with respect to dynamic properties) on human observers. But this implies that Schrodinger's cat is neither dead nor alive until I open the box and look in, which seems incredible. In any case, my consciousness is linked to a human brain. What collapses the wave function of the physical system, "me observing the cat?" Human observers only perpetuate the regress.

God as Cosmic Observer

The theist may offer a way of escape. Why must the observer be human? Could God act as a Cosmic Observer, who collapses the wave-function in any measurement, or who would collapse any wave-functions in the universe with respect to any possible measurement? God is unembodied Mind, self-consciousness not linked to any material substratum. He cannot be described by the equations of quantum mechanics and so is unaffected by quantum physical indeterminancy. Hence, there is no regress in His case.

I am not suggesting, with Barrow and Tipler44, that we posit some Ultimate Observer in the chronological future, who stands at the close of all the temporal series of observers in the history of the universe. That implies backwards causation, past and present reality being determined by something that does not yet exist. Rather, I suggest that God now knows, and has always known, the outcome of any possible measurement in the universe, so that the wave function in any actual measurement is collapsed by Him.

Some theorists have actually entertained this solution, but it has met with little sympathy. Alastair Rae, for example, alleges that:

this point of view...does little to solve the problem, but merely restates it. If...God's consciousness is determining which state a quantum system will occupy, then we are still left with the question of at which point in the measuring chain this choice is exercised. Presumably God doesn't look at the photon passing through the polarizer at least until the detector state has changed. Why not?...We are simply back where we started, not knowing at what point the measuring chain ends and why.45

But the measurement problem is not our ignorance of why and where the measuring chain ends. Rather, in wave function reduction, quantum physics throws us into a vicious infinite regress that cannot be broken. A Cosmic Observer (outside the laws of quantum physics) solves this conceptual problem by non-arbitrarily interrupting the regress of measurements and so collapsing the wave function. Where and why he interrupts it is irrelevant to the solution of the problem.

Secondly, Rae conflates God's determining the state of a quantum system with God's observing it. If He does the first, then quantum indeterminacy is not ontic -- built into the way the universe really is -- but epistemic: we may not know why a particle strikes a screen at certain coordinates, but nonetheless, it is determined by God. By contrast, God's role as Cosmic Observer is compatible with genuine indeterminacy. God does not choose which of the possible states of a quantum system will be actual, but He actualizes whichever one happens to result from a measurement by His observing that measurement.

Thirdly, when we speak of God's observation, we must not construe this anthropomorphically, as though God must look at the photon passing through the measuring device. In quantum measurement, although the measuring device may disturb the system being measured, this is not necessary. The observer need not influence the final state of the system measured. The observer merely objectifies or actualizes the outcome, "fixing" reality in the relevant respect. God need only be aware of the outcome of any measurement, that is, have a true belief about the result. As a Cosmic Observer, God knows the outcome of every measurement immediately. Thus, to answer Rae's question, God's observation of a quantum measurement involves no intermediate links in the measurement chain, and the reason for this immediacy is His omniscience.

Polkinghorne has other misgivings about God as Cosmic Observer. "Divine reduction of wave packets would be overkill," he complains, "since it would operate everywhere and always."46 For example, every electron fired in the famous two-slit experiment, measured or not, would be forced through a definite slit on its way to the target. Similarly, Squires advises, "God must be selective -- he must not reduce all wave functions automatically." Otherwise He might collapse the wave function to yield a determinate position for a particle, when we wanted instead to measure its velocity! "It is therefore necessary that the God who reduces wave functions," Squires argues, "should know about these other observers and should know what they intend to measure."47

But, as Cosmic Observer, God does not automatically collapse all wave functions everywhere and always. If we take the orthodox Copenhagen Interpretation seriously, then nothing corresponds to the dynamic properties of quantum entities apart from measurement. Dynamic properties are relational, involving the entire measurement situation. Quantum entities have no intrinsic (that is, unmeasured) position, momentum, or spin.

Hence, God need not collapse the wave functions of unmeasured quantum systems. Rather, He knows the outcome of every quantum measurement actually made, or the outcome of any measurement that could be made. He could have known this from the beginning of time,48 and certainly He could know (presently) every quantum measurement as it occurs.

Thus, theism offers a plausible solution to the measurement problem within the received interpretation of quantum physics. If this solution looks too metaphysical, consider the alternatives. Take, for example, the Many Worlds Interpretation of quantum physics. On this view, the wave function of a quantum system never collapses. Rather, all possible values of a measurement are equally real. We observe only one value because, in every measurement, the quantum system being measured and the measuring device somehow split into parallel worlds. We observe one value; but in the parallel worlds we (or our counterparts there) observe different values. The measurement problem never arises. Of course, no evidence exists for this extraordinary ontology, but it is part of the discussion about how to understand quantum physics. Polkinghorne is right when he says, "one must recognize this suggestion for what it is. It is a speculation of metaphysics...."49 But if naturalistic metaphysics have a place at the table when quantum theory is under discussion, then the theist must be given his place too.

All this assumes that the Copenhagen Interpretation is correct. Perhaps it is not. Perhaps a neo-realist interpretation (with non-local, hidden variables), as envisioned by de Broglie and Bohm, will carry the day. Or perhaps quantum physics describes only ensembles of identical systems, for which its predictions are precise and deterministic. Our conclusion, therefore, must be conditional: if one accepts that the wave function is real and that there are no hidden variables, then theism is the most plausible solution to the measurement problem.

Finally, quantum physics supports a theistic metaphysic in another area: quantum cosmology. As noted above, cosmologists have tried to marry Quantum Theory to Relativity Theory to describe the origin of the universe. Prior to the Planck Time, the curvature of space-time becomes so severe that the entire universe becomes a quantum entity. So why would there not be a wave function of the universe? Quantum cosmology assumes that at the start the universe does have such a wave function. For our universe to exist, this wave function must collapse.

But then the inevitable question arises: who or what collapses the wave function of the universe? Since all ordinary spatio-temporal observers are within the universe itself, the answer, on the orthodox Copenhagen Interpretation of quantum physics, can only be: an Observer who transcends space and time.

Secular quantum cosmologists cannot abide this answer. Thus, they embrace the Many Worlds Interpretation of quantum physics instead. As Oxford physicist John Barrow muses,

It is no coincidence that all the main supporters of the Many Worlds Interpretation of quantum reality are involved in quantum cosmology....This interpretation of quantum reality is adopted by quantum cosmologists because it does not require the universe to be observed.50

Yet, apart from anti-theistic bias, there is no reason to adopt the bloated ontology of the Many Worlds Interpretation, rather than theism, which, as Barrow admits, supplies a mathematically consistent picture of creation. Theism is simpler and is independently supported by other sources. By contrast, the Many Worlds Interpretation may not even be coherent because it cannot make sense of the numerical predictions of quantum theory.51

Again, our conclusion is conditional. If there is a wave function of the universe, then a supernatural Cosmic Observer and Creator plausibly explains the collapse of the wave function and the existence of the universe. Even Quentin Smith, no friend of argumentative theism, has called this "the best scientific argument for God that is present in twentieth-century science."52

Conclusion

I hope that my limited examples -- the Big Bang, fine-tuning, and quantum physics and cosmology -- have shown the power of theism to illuminate the world revealed to us by modern science. In the renewed dialogue between science and theology, theology must not be a mute listener. She has too much to offer to be silent.

Professor of Physics, University of Texas at Austin
Winner of the 1979 Nobel Prize in Physics.

I have been asked to comment on whether the universe shows signs of having been designed.1 I don't see how it's possible to talk about this without having at least some vague idea of what a designer would be like. Any possible universe could be explained as the work of some sort of designer. Even a universe that is completely chaotic, without any laws or regularities at all, could be supposed to have been designed by an idiot.

The question that seems to me to be worth answering, and perhaps not impossible to answer, is whether the universe shows signs of having been designed by a deity more or less like those of traditional monotheistic religions—not necessarily a figure from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, but at least some sort of personality, some intelligence, who created the universe and has some special concern with life, in particular with human life. I expect that this is not the idea of a designer held by many here. You may tell me that you are thinking of something much more abstract, some cosmic spirit of order and harmony, as Einstein did. You are certainly free to think that way, but then I don't know why you use words like 'designer' or 'God,' except perhaps as a form of protective coloration.

It used to be obvious that the world was designed by some sort of intelligence. What else could account for fire and rain and lightning and earthquakes? Above all, the wonderful abilities of living things seemed to point to a creator who had a special interest in life. Today we understand most of these things in terms of physical forces acting under impersonal laws. We don't yet know the most fundamental laws, and we can't work out all the consequences of the laws we do know. The human mind remains extraordinarily difficult to understand, but so is the weather. We can't predict whether it will rain one month from today, but we do know the rules that govern the rain, even though we can't always calculate their consequences. I see nothing about the human mind any more than about the weather that stands out as beyond the hope of understanding as a consequence of impersonal laws acting over billions of years.

There do not seem to be any exceptions to this natural order, any miracles. I have the impression that these days most theologians are embarrassed by talk of miracles, but the great monotheistic faiths are founded on miracle stories—the burning bush, the empty tomb, an angel dictating the Koran to Mohammed—and some of these faiths teach that miracles continue at the present day. The evidence for all these miracles seems to me to be considerably weaker than the evidence for cold fusion, and I don't believe in cold fusion. Above all, today we understand that even human beings are the result of natural selection acting over millions of years of breeding and eating.

I'd guess that if we were to see the hand of the designer anywhere, it would be in the fundamental principles, the final laws of nature, the book of rules that govern all natural phenomena. We don't know the final laws yet, but as far as we have been able to see, they are utterly impersonal and quite without any special role for life. There is no life force. As Richard Feynman has said, when you look at the universe and understand its laws, 'the theory that it is all arranged as a stage for God to watch man's struggle for good and evil seems inadequate.'

True, when quantum mechanics was new, some physicists thought that it put humans back into the picture, because the principles of quantum mechanics tell us how to calculate the probabilities of various results that might be found by a human observer. But, starting with the work of Hugh Everett forty years ago, the tendency of physicists who think deeply about these things has been to reformulate quantum mechanics in an entirely objective way, with observers treated just like everything else. I don't know if this program has been completely successful yet, but I think it will be.

I have to admit that, even when physicists will have gone as far as they can go, when we have a final theory, we will not have a completely satisfying picture of the world, because we will still be left with the question 'why?' Why this theory, rather than some other theory? For example, why is the world described by quantum mechanics? Quantum mechanics is the one part of our present physics that is likely to survive intact in any future theory, but there is nothing logically inevitable about quantum mechanics; I can imagine a universe governed by Newtonian mechanics instead. So there seems to be an irreducible mystery that science will not eliminate.

But religious theories of design have the same problem. Either you mean something definite by a God, a designer, or you don't. If you don't, then what are we talking about? If you do mean something definite by 'God' or 'design,' if for instance you believe in a God who is jealous, or loving, or intelligent, or whimsical, then you still must confront the question 'why?' A religion may assert that the universe is governed by that sort of God, rather than some other sort of God, and it may offer evidence for this belief, but it cannot explain why this should be so.

In this respect, it seems to me that physics is in a better position to give us a partly satisfying explanation of the world than religion can ever be, because although physicists won't be able to explain why the laws of nature are what they are and not something completely different, at least we may be able to explain why they are not slightly different. For instance, no one has been able to think of a logically consistent alternative to quantum mechanics that is only slightly different. Once you start trying to make small changes in quantum mechanics, you get into theories with negative probabilities or other logical absurdities. When you combine quantum mechanics with relativity you increase its logical fragility. You find that unless you arrange the theory in just the right way you get nonsense, like effects preceding causes, or infinite probabilities. Religious theories, on the other hand, seem to be infinitely flexible, with nothing to prevent the invention of deities of any conceivable sort.

Now, it doesn't settle the matter for me to say that we cannot see the hand of a designer in what we know about the fundamental principles of science. It might be that, although these principles do not refer explicitly to life, much less human life, they are nevertheless craftily designed to bring it about.

Some physicists have argued that certain constants of nature have values that seem to have been mysteriously fine-tuned to just the values that allow for the possibility of life, in a way that could only be explained by the intervention of a designer with some special concern for life. I am not impressed with these supposed instances of fine-tuning. For instance, one of the most frequently quoted examples of fine-tuning has to do with a property of the nucleus of the carbon atom. The matter left over from the first few minutes of the universe was almost entirely hydrogen and helium, with virtually none of the heavier elements like carbon, nitrogen, and oxygen that seem to be necessary for life. The heavy elements that we find on earth were built up hundreds of millions of years later in a first generation of stars, and then spewed out into the interstellar gas out of which our solar system eventually formed.

The first step in the sequence of nuclear reactions that created the heavy elements in early stars is usually the formation of a carbon nucleus out of three helium nuclei. There is a negligible chance of producing a carbon nucleus in its normal state (the state of lowest energy) in collisions of three helium nuclei, but it would be possible to produce appreciable amounts of carbon in stars if the carbon nucleus could exist in a radioactive state with an energy roughly 7 million electron volts (MeV) above the energy of the normal state, matching the energy of three helium nuclei, but (for reasons I'll come to presently) not more than 7.7 MeV above the normal state.

This radioactive state of a carbon nucleus could be easily formed in stars from three helium nuclei. After that, there would be no problem in producing ordinary carbon; the carbon nucleus in its radioactive state would spontaneously emit light and turn into carbon in its normal nonradioactive state, the state found on earth. The critical point in producing carbon is the existence of a radioactive state that can be produced in collisions of three helium nuclei.

In fact, the carbon nucleus is known experimentally to have just such a radioactive state, with an energy 7.65 MeV above the normal state. At first sight this may seem like a pretty close call; the energy of this radioactive state of carbon misses being too high to allow the formation of carbon (and hence of us) by only 0.05 MeV, which is less than one percent of 7.65 MeV. It may appear that the constants of nature on which the properties of all nuclei depend have been carefully fine-tuned to make life possible.

Looked at more closely, the fine-tuning of the constants of nature here does not seem so fine. We have to consider the reason why the formation of carbon in stars requires the existence of a radioactive state of carbon with an energy not more than 7.7 MeV above the energy of the normal state. The reason is that the carbon nuclei in this state are actually formed in a two-step process: first, two helium nuclei combine to form the unstable nucleus of a beryllium isotope, beryllium 8, which occasionally, before it falls apart, captures another helium nucleus, forming a carbon nucleus in its radioactive state, which then decays into normal carbon. The total energy of the beryllium 8 nucleus and a helium nucleus at rest is 7.4 MeV above the energy of the normal state of the carbon nucleus; so if the energy of the radioactive state of carbon were more than 7.7 MeV it could only be formed in a collision of a helium nucleus and a beryllium 8 nucleus if the energy of motion of these two nuclei were at least 0.3 MeV—an energy which is extremely unlikely at the temperatures found in stars.

Thus the crucial thing that affects the production of carbon in stars is not the 7.65 MeV energy of the radioactive state of carbon above its normal state, but the 0.25 MeV energy of the radioactive state, an unstable composite of a beryllium 8 nucleus and a helium nucleus, above the energy of those nuclei at rest.2 This energy misses being too high for the production of carbon by a fractional amount of 0.05 MeV/0.25 MeV, or 20 percent, which is not such a close call after all.

This conclusion about the lessons to be learned from carbon synthesis is somewhat controversial. In any case, there is one constant whose value does seem remarkably well adjusted in our favor. It is the energy density of empty space, also known as the cosmological constant. It could have any value, but from first principles one would guess that this constant should be very large, and could be positive or negative. If large and positive, the cosmological constant would act as a repulsive force that increases with distance, a force that would prevent matter from clumping together in the early universe, the process that was the first step in forming galaxies and stars and planets and people. If large and negative the cosmological constant would act as an attractive force increasing with distance, a force that would almost immediately reverse the expansion of the universe and cause it to recollapse, leaving no time for the evolution of life. In fact, astronomical observations show that the cosmological constant is quite small, very much smaller than would have been guessed from first principles.

It is still too early to tell whether there is some fundamental principle that can explain why the cosmological constant must be this small. But even if there is no such principle, recent developments in cosmology offer the possibility of an explanation of why the measured values of the cosmological constant and other physical constants are favorable for the appearance of intelligent life. According to the 'chaotic inflation' theories of André Linde and others, the expanding cloud of billions of galaxies that we call the big bang may be just one fragment of a much larger universe in which big bangs go off all the time, each one with different values for the fundamental constants.

In any such picture, in which the universe contains many parts with different values for what we call the constants of nature, there would be no difficulty in understanding why these constants take values favorable to intelligent life. There would be a vast number of big bangs in which the constants of nature take values unfavorable for life, and many fewer where life is possible. You don't have to invoke a benevolent designer to explain why we are in one of the parts of the universe where life is possible: in all the other parts of the universe there is no one to raise the question.3 If any theory of this general type turns out to be correct, then to conclude that the constants of nature have been fine-tuned by a benevolent designer would be like saying, 'Isn't it wonderful that God put us here on earth, where there's water and air and the surface gravity and temperature are so comfortable, rather than some horrid place, like Mercury or Pluto?' Where else in the solar system other than on earth could we have evolved?

Reasoning like this is called 'anthropic.' Sometimes it just amounts to an assertion that the laws of nature are what they are so that we can exist, without further explanation. This seems to me to be little more than mystical mumbo jumbo. On the other hand, if there really is a large number of worlds in which some constants take different values, then the anthropic explanation of why in our world they take values favorable for life is just common sense, like explaining why we live on the earth rather than Mercury or Pluto. The actual value of the cosmological constant, recently measured by observations of the motion of distant supernovas, is about what you would expect from this sort of argument: it is just about small enough so that it does not interfere much with the formation of galaxies. But we don't yet know enough about physics to tell whether there are different parts of the universe in which what are usually called the constants of physics really do take different values. This is not a hopeless question; we will be able to answer it when we know more about the quantum theory of gravitation than we do now.

It would be evidence for a benevolent designer if life were better than could be expected on other grounds. To judge this, we should keep in mind that a certain capacity for pleasure would readily have evolved through natural selection, as an incentive to animals who need to eat and breed in order to pass on their genes. It may not be likely that natural selection on any one planet would produce animals who are fortunate enough to have the leisure and the ability to do science and think abstractly, but our sample of what is produced by evolution is very biased, by the fact that it is only in these fortunate cases that there is anyone thinking about cosmic design. Astronomers call this a selection effect.

The universe is very large, and perhaps infinite, so it should be no surprise that, among the enormous number of planets that may support only unintelligent life and the still vaster number that cannot support life at all, there is some tiny fraction on which there are living beings who are capable of thinking about the universe, as we are doing here. A journalist who has been assigned to interview lottery winners may come to feel that some special providence has been at work on their behalf, but he should keep in mind the much larger number of lottery players whom he is not interviewing because they haven't won anything. Thus, to judge whether our lives show evidence for a benevolent designer, we have not only to ask whether life is better than would be expected in any case from what we know about natural selection, but we need also to take into account the bias introduced by the fact that it is we who are thinking about the problem.

This is a question that you all will have to answer for yourselves. Being a physicist is no help with questions like this, so I have to speak from my own experience. My life has been remarkably happy, perhaps in the upper 99.99 percentile of human happiness, but even so, I have seen a mother die painfully of cancer, a father's personality destroyed by Alzheimer's disease, and scores of second and third cousins murdered in the Holocaust. Signs of a benevolent designer are pretty well hidden.

The prevalence of evil and misery has always bothered those who believe in a benevolent and omnipotent God. Sometimes God is excused by pointing to the need for free will. Milton gives God this argument in Paradise Lost:

I formed them free, and free they must remain
Till they enthral themselves: I else must change
Their nature, and revoke the high decree
Unchangeable, eternal, which ordained
Their freedom; they themselves ordained their fall.

It seems a bit unfair to my relatives to be murdered in order to provide an opportunity for free will for Germans, but even putting that aside, how does free will account for cancer? Is it an opportunity of free will for tumors?

I don't need to argue here that the evil in the world proves that the universe is not designed, but only that there are no signs of benevolence that might have shown the hand of a designer. But in fact the perception that God cannot be benevolent is very old. Plays by Aeschylus and Euripides make a quite explicit statement that the gods are selfish and cruel, though they expect better behavior from humans. God in the Old Testament tells us to bash the heads of infidels and demands of us that we be willing to sacrifice our children's lives at His orders, and the God of traditional Christianity and Islam damns us for eternity if we do not worship him in the right manner. Is this a nice way to behave? I know, I know, we are not supposed to judge God according to human standards, but you see the problem here: If we are not yet convinced of His existence, and are looking for signs of His benevolence, then what other standards can we use?

The issues that I have been asked to address here will seem to many to be terribly old-fashioned. The 'argument from design' made by the English theologian William Paley is not on most peoples' minds these days. The prestige of religion seems today to derive from what people take to be its moral influence, rather than from what they may think has been its success in accounting for what we see in nature. Conversely, I have to admit that, although I really don't believe in a cosmic designer, the reason that I am taking the trouble to argue about it is that I think that on balance the moral influence of religion has been awful.

This is much too big a question to be settled here. On one side, I could point out endless examples of the harm done by religious enthusiasm, through a long history of pogroms, crusades, and jihads. In our own century it was a Muslim zealot who killed Sadat, a Jewish zealot who killed Rabin, and a Hindu zealot who killed Gandhi. No one would say that Hitler was a Christian zealot, but it is hard to imagine Nazism taking the form it did without the foundation provided by centuries of Christian anti-Semitism. On the other side, many admirers of religion would set countless examples of the good done by religion. For instance, in his recent book Imagined Worlds, the distinguished physicist Freeman Dyson has emphasized the role of religious belief in the suppression of slavery. I'd like to comment briefly on this point, not to try to prove anything with one example but just to illustrate what I think about the moral influence of religion.

It is certainly true that the campaign against slavery and the slave trade was greatly strengthened by devout Christians, including the Evangelical layman William Wilberforce in England and the Unitarian minister William Ellery Channing in America. But Christianity, like other great world religions, lived comfortably with slavery for many centuries, and slavery was endorsed in the New Testament. So what was different for anti-slavery Christians like Wilberforce and Channing? There had been no discovery of new sacred scriptures, and neither Wilberforce nor Channing claimed to have received any supernatural revelations. Rather, the eighteenth century had seen a widespread increase in rationality and humanitarianism that led others—for instance, Adam Smith, Jeremy Bentham, and Richard Brinsley Sheridan—also to oppose slavery, on grounds having nothing to do with religion. Lord Mansfield, the author of the decision in Somersett's Case, which ended slavery in England (though not its colonies), was no more than conventionally religious, and his decision did not mention religious arguments. Although Wilberforce was the instigator of the campaign against the slave trade in the 1790s, this movement had essential support from many in Parliament like Fox and Pitt, who were not known for their piety. As far as I can tell, the moral tone of religion benefited more from the spirit of the times than the spirit of the times benefited from religion.

Where religion did make a difference, it was more in support of slavery than in opposition to it. Arguments from scripture were used in Parliament to defend the slave trade. Frederick Douglass told in his Narrative how his condition as a slave became worse when his master underwent a religious conversion that allowed him to justify slavery as the punishment of the children of Ham. Mark Twain described his mother as a genuinely good person, whose soft heart pitied even Satan, but who had no doubt about the legitimacy of slavery, because in years of living in antebellum Missouri she had never heard any sermon opposing slavery, but only countless sermons preaching that slavery was God's will. With or without religion, good people can behave well and bad people can do evil; but for good people to do evil—that takes religion.

In an e-mail message from the American Association for the Advancement of Science I learned that the aim of this conference is to have a constructive dialogue between science and religion. I am all in favor of a dialogue between science and religion, but not a constructive dialogue. One of the great achievements of science has been, if not to make it impossible for intelligent people to be religious, then at least to make it possible for them not to be religious. We should not retreat from this accomplishment.