Gould champions one of the mediating ways of depicting religion and science. Orientations to one side of his agree that religion and science are enemies even though they disagree as to which one is the better. Those on the other side hold that we should integrate them in larger harmonious wholes while they debate the best ways of accomplishing this. Ian Barbour, a physicist and Christian theologian, examines these various alternatives in a number of helpful books. This readable volume by Gould is an excellent example of the "united we fall, divided we stand" approach.
Gould develops his argument in four steps that correspond to his book’s four chapters. In the first he reviews the conflicts between religion and science and pinpoints the primary reason for their frequent discord: poor boundaries! Like a parent who sends quarreling children to different rooms in the same house, in his second step he achieves peace by partially separating them. In his third and fourth steps, Gould examines in greater detail some of the historical and psychological factors that have contributed to the frequent conflicts between religion and science. Throughout the entire book, he writes that his claims are more important than original because, contrary to what we might infer from the popular press, many specialists adopt his approach, as they have for generations.
In a lengthy and important footnote near the beginning of this book, Gould stipulates that his depictions of the differences between religion and science are more gross than fine. This is a concession that, although religion and science do differ, and although it is vital to keep their differences in mind, their relationships are more complex than they may first appear.
I believe that facts and values are easier to distinguish in thought than in life and that widespread attempts to accomplish the second have probably contributed to our ecological problems. This fork has two spikes. First, we are unlikely to learn what is the case about anything unless we think doing so is of value. Second, the conviction that the non-human citizens of our world possess only the value we grant has given us too much permission to exploit them. That facts and values differ conceptually is clear; that they do so completely in actual life is less so.
Gould’s assignment of religion to the realm of values provides another opportunity for further clarification. As he writes, the work of religion is more like determining what we should prize than it is like discovering what is the case. But similar things can be said of ethics and art. To lump all three forms of valuing under one heading is helpful in some ways but not in others. Important differences remain between asking how much a rock weighs (science) and inquiring whether it is beautiful (art), was made by God (religion) or should be thrown at those who are bothering us (ethics)!
We should also be careful when portraying science as discovering what "is" with religion, ethics and art determining what "ought to be." Although the genuine findings of the various sciences are more objective than are those of religion, ethics and art, they are neither entirely nor always so. Likewise, although religion, art and science are more subjective than the sciences, this is neither completely nor permanently the case. They differ in their mixes of the two; nevertheless, ventures on both sides of the "is/ought divide" engage in a fair amount of discovering and determining.
Near the end of his book, when reviewing recent attempts to integrate the legitimate findings of science and of religion in larger harmonious wholes, Gould indulges in uncharacteristic and unbecoming irritability. With respect to the so-called anthropic principle, for instance, all apparently agree that the occurrence of human life was unlikely. The question is not whether this is so but what, if anything, we should make of it.
We cannot dismiss such questions out of hand and are better off if we do not try. Neither can we appeal to things in the natural world that might count against the likelihood of divine design and purpose while booing as others cite evidence from the same source that might suggest it. Let the discussions continue and allow the best arguments with the most evidence win!
It is possible to place too much emphasis upon the idea that religion and science are different but equally valuable domains. Gerald R. Winslow, the Dean of the Faculty of Religion at Loma Linda University, and I once shared a meal at a pleasant restaurant with an influential scholar from another campus whom we had invited to speak at ours. Because he said such contradictory things while we enjoyed our dinner together, we eventually asked him whether he detected any tension between his beliefs as a religious believer and his convictions as a medical scientist and philosopher. "Oh no!" he exclaimed, "I live in two completely different universes!"
Thankfully, Stephen Jay Gould lives in one universe, not two. But within his one universe there are different spheres of inquiry, each with its own rules of evidence and reasoning. This makes taking his guided tour enjoyable and informative. One final question, however: if religion and science are like separate rooms, what is the house?