Biblical Science?

Philosophy

Schroeder, Gerald, L. The Science of God: The Convergence of Scientific and Biblical Wisdom (New York: The Free Press), pp. xii, 226, US$25.00 The main thesis of this book-as the subtitle suggests-is that there is a convergence between modern scientific discoveries and the ancient wisdom of the Old Testament. While Schroeder does not claim either "that current scientific opinion can explain the workings of all the events described in [the Old Testament]" or "that [Old Testament] wisdom forsaw all the modern science has discovered", he does claim that "in biology, paleontology, cosmology, among a sweep of topics, the confluence is remarkable". (p.17, my italics) These claims about "convergence" and "confluence" are rather vague-and Schroeder nowhere attempts to make them more precise-but there is no vagueness in many of the subsidiary pronouncements which Schroeder makes, apparently in support of them: (i) the first thirty– one chapters of Genesis provides a succinct summary of the main elements of Big Bang cosmology (70), complete with mention of inflation (66), quark confinement (65), and various other esoteric physical doctrines; (ii) the first chapter of Genesis tells us that life appeared on earth immediately after the appearance of liquid water, just as the fossil record confirms (28–29, 86); (iii) archaeopteryx is referred to in Leviticus (95–6); (iv) dinosaurs are mentioned in the first chapter of Genesis (193–4); (v) pre–human hominids are referred to indirectly in several passages in the Bible (140–3); (vi) quantum indeterminacy explains how freedom of the will is possible (146–57, 173–4); (vii) the theory of relativity explains how God can be outside of time (56–7, 161–5); (viii) the theory of relativity explains how the six days of Genesis are in fact fifteen billion earth years (41–71); (ix) difficulties which face standard evolutionary accounts of the origins of life strongly indicate that the evolution of life was pre–programmed by an intelligent designer (83–124); and so on. There are things to admire in this book. Schroeder writes well, and his views are always made perfectly clear. Although he is sometimes banal ("For someone who waits until age sixty to ask the meaning of life ... the awakening can be frightening" (1)), sometimes both sententious and absurd ("[The] erosion of biblical understanding is tragic, and we've paid a price for it. ... Our 60% divorce rate and the double locks on our doors provide a succinct summary of the effect"), and occasionally given to grand, undefended-and I think indefensible-claims ("The genesis described in the first chapter of the Bible broke the pessimism of the pagan world" (81)), he more often writes with verve and charm. Moreover, he has assembled material which presents genuine challenges to non–theists. Much of the book can be read as an extended development of the claim that the universe appears to have been incredibly finely tuned for human life. Part of the evidence for this claim comes from recent work on the early history of the universe; and part of the evidence comes from difficulties which have recently confronted orthodox neo–Darwinian accounts of the origins of life on earth. It seems to me that this evidence cannot be simply dismissed, and that non–theists do have an obligation to develop responses to the argument for fine–tuning. On the other hand-though I shall not attempt to argue for this here-I think that it is quite clear that there are adequate responses available. There is also plenty more to disagree with in this book. While it is clear that Schroeder knows some areas of science well, and while it is also plain that he has an extensive knowledge of some areas of biblical interpretation, it seems to me that some of his claims about science and biblical interpretation can be contested. Moreover, it is obvious that Schroeder has quite limited knowledge of recent treatments of some of the philosophical and theological questions which he takes up. I shall try to defend these claims by pointing to problematic aspects of the defences which Schroeder gives for claims (i)–(ix) mentioned in the opening paragraph of this review. One crucial part of Schroeder's attempt to reconcile the Bible with recent science involves his claim that the six days of creation mentioned in Genesis are measured from the perspective of the wave frequency of the cosmic microwave background radiation. On his account, day one correponds to the time between the moment of quark confinement and the formation of the disk of the Milky Way (from 15.75 billion years ago to 7.75 billion years ago); day two corresponds to the time between the formation of the disk of the Milky Way and the appearance of liquid water on a cool earth (from 7.75 billion years ago to 3.75 billion years ago); day three corresponds to the time between the appearance of liquid water on a cool earth and the era in which the earth's atmosphere became transparent to radiation at optical frequencies (from 3.75 billion years ago to 1.75 billion years ago); day four corresponds to the time between the era in which the earth's atmosphere became transparent to radiation at optical frequencies and the appearance of the first multicellular animals (from 1.75 billion years ago to 750 million years ago); day five corresponds to the time between the appearance of the first multicellular animals and the massive extinction towards the very end of the Palaeozoic era (from 750 million years ago to 250 million years ago); and day six corresponds to the time between the massive extinction towards the very end of the Palaeozoic era and the appearance of properly human beings (from 250 million years ago to 5, 759 years ago). Even if we take on trust Schroeder's claim that the cosmic microwave background radiation provides a clock which measures the history of the universe in this way, there are many reasons to be sceptical about the suggestion that the account in Genesis is an account of a Big Bang universe of the kind in which we now suppose ourselves to live. Perhaps the most obvious consideration is that it is far more plausible to suppose that the account in Genesis is myth: the people who wrote that account did not have the slightest inkling of twentieth century cosmology, and there is no serious way to make sense of the idea that they intended to refer to it. Indeed, it seems to me pretty clear that general problems about translation and interpretation-and the absence of any attempt to address these problems in a systematic, theoretical way-make it more or less impossible to take Schroeder's project seriously. However, there are also more 'internal' difficulties with Schroeder's account, and it is on these which I shall focus here. Schroeder claims that Genesis 1:1 refers to the era prior to quark confinement, i.e. the first hundred–thousandth second of the universe; and he claims that this era precedes the first day of Genesis. Moreover, he claims that the line which says that the Spirit of God was moving over the face of the waters (RSV) refers to the inflationary expansion of the universe prior to the era of quark confinement. The interpretative links here are incredibly tenuous: any one– time phenomenon which occurs before the era of quark confinement could, with equal plausiblity-or better, with equal implausibility-be taken to be under description: for example, according to standard theory, at the end of the Planck era, gravitational radiation comes out of thermal equilibrium with the rest of the universe; and there is also a symmetry– breaking phase which shatters the electroweak force well before the era of quark confinement. (Of course, there are also delicate questions about the correct translation of the original texts which need to be discussed: if-as my RSV version of the Bible has it-Genesis 1:1 is committed to the existence of water in the earliest phase of the universe, then there is no question of trying to reconcile this with Big Bang cosmology. Given the role that water played in other early cosmological myths and speculations, it seems very plausible to suppose that the references to water in Genesis 1:1 and 1:6–1:7 are intended literally. A similar problem arises with the very first sentence of Genesis: if heaven and earth really are created in the beginning-i.e. in the era prior to quark confinement-then they exist at that time. On p.8, Schroeder reads the opening sentence in a way which makes it clear that he takes 'the earth' here to refer to our planet. Yet later, when he gives the mapping onto Big Bang cosmology, it is clear that he can't understand the reference to 'the earth' in the opening sentence in this way. If you allow yourself unconstrained and inconsistent interpretation of a text, you can read anything you like into it ...) Schroeder claims that Genesis 1:11 tells us (correctly) that life appeared immediately after the appearance of liquid water. (The most recent evidence is that life appeared 3.8 billion years ago, almost immediately at the time that liquid water appeared.) Even by his lights, this claim must surely appear dishonest. After all, it does not say in the account of the third day that God made vegetation immediately after he made the dry land appear; all that we are given is a list of things in the order in which they were done on the third day. On his account, the third day covers a time span of 2 billion years; as far as I can see, his interpretation leaves it open that vegetation could have appeared at any time in that 2 billion year period. Note, in particular, that there is just as much reason to hold that God made the birds-or, as Schroeder would have it, the flying insects-immediately after he made the sea creatures on day four- but that is in sharp disagreement with the evidence. (The same point also applies to the creation of man on day five; that it would be inconsistent with other aspects of Schroeder's interpretation to say that God made man immediately after he made the other animals is surely evidence that he should not say that Genesis 1:11 tells us that life appeared immediately after the appearance of liquid water.) Schroeder claims that dinosaurs are mentioned in Genesis 1:21, since there is a reference there to big reptiles. (The RSV says 'great sea monsters', but I'm prepared to accept that Schroeder has the translation right.) How is this a reference to dinosaurs? Well, "the biggest reptiles were the dinosaurs"! This is pretty dire. Why not argue as follows: there are references in Genesis to animals; dinosaurs were animals; so there are references to dinosaurs in the Bible?! Or as follows: throughout the Bible, there are references to the things of this world; dinosaurs are among the things of this world (in the relevant atemporal sense); so these are references to dinosaurs in the Bible?! (Surely it is far more plausible to think that the 'big reptiles' which the writers of this text had in mind are crocodiles, large lizards, and the like! Indeed, a list which seems to say exactly this is given in Leviticus 11:30.) Schroeder's claim that archaeopteryx is mentioned at Leviticus 11:18 and Leviticus 11:30 is no more plausible, but also for a different reason: why on earth would anyone bother to proscribe the eating of something which had been extinct for around 150 milllion years? Schroeder claims that pre–human hominids are referred to-or, at any rate, alluded to-in several places in the Bible. Questions about interpretation come up in every case. At Genesis 12:5, Schroeder takes "... Abraham took ... the souls they had made ..." to entail that possession of a soul requires belief in a universal, non–corporeal God. (Why not just read it as "... Abraham took ... the people they had converted ..."? This is much closer to the RSV version, and would surely fit within permissible bounds of translation.) Schroeder notes that Genesis 1:26 talks about 'making' mankind, whereas Genesis 1:27 says that God 'created' man, and insists that, since both verbs characterise our origins, there must be an essential difference in their import. (But why not think that the words are interchangeable, and chosen for purely stylistic reasons, or for no reason at all? After all, it is not unusual for many words to be interchangeable in a given context.) Schroeder notes that an exact translation of Genesis 2:7 would give "... man became to a living soul", and then observes that Nahmanides speculated that the redundant 'to' might indicate that the addition of soul transforms one kind of complete creature into a quite different kind of complete creature. (But why rest weight on Nahmanides opinion? There are, after all, other possible explanations of the origins of that redundant 'to' during early transcriptions of the text. Why suppose that it has any significance at all?) Schroeder claims that a careful reading of Genesis 4:25 and Genesis 5:3 reveals that there was a period in which Adam had sexual relations with non–human creatures. The allegedly crucial point is the appearance of the word 'again' in Genesis 4:25: "Adam knew his wife again and she bore a son ..." Isn't the "again" superfluous, and doesn't it tell us that Adam had been playing the field? (I can't see it. We might just as well infer that they'd been struggling for 130 years to have a child to replace the one they had lost. They tried yet again ...) And so on. It is very hard to resist the conclusion that Schroeder is trying desperately hard to find anything at all which can be twisted to support the case that he wants to make. So much for the kinds of questions which I might raise about Biblical interpretation. Since I have no claims to expertise on these matters, I shall not put any more weight upon them. At the very least, I think that it is clear that many of Schroeder's claims stretch credulity-and also that it is hard to find a good motivation for them. Given the concession that the text cannot be given a straightforward literal interpretation-not least because, as Schroeder points out (pp.10–11), it is multiply inconsistent-what harm could there be in supposing that much of it is best interpretted as myth? Reconciling science and Bible does not require finding science in the Bible; rather, it requires reading the Bible in ways which generate no inconsistencies with the well–established teachings of science. Moreover, this position is consistent with-though it does not require-the further claim that the teachings of the Bible are morally authoritative. (Schroeder assumes without argument that morality must have a Biblical foundation-see, e.g., pp. 1, 2, 4, 18, 40, 81–2, 137. This seems to me quite wrong; but I shan't try to dispute it here.) Be all of the above as it may, some of the most problematic parts of Schroeder's book are those in which he appeals to scientific theories in order to try to resolve longstanding philosophical and theological puzzles. I shall now turn to consider a few of these cases: In his chapter on free–will, he claims that quantum mechanics explains how free–will is possible. In this discussion, he assumes without argument that freedom is incompatible with determinism-indeed, he provides not the slightest hint that he is aware of the existence of compatibilist accounts of human freedom-and then argues that quantum mechanics has demonstrated that the future is unpredictable and hence indeterministic. Even leaving aside compatiblist scruples, there is much to contest in this argument. Although quantum mechanics 'has a sixty–year track record of predicting ocrrectly the outcome of experiments' (149), it may be that quantum mechanics will one day cease giving uniformly accurate predictions-Newtonian mechanics had an equally impressive track record for a couple of hundred years, but we now know that it is only approximately right. Even if quantum mechanics never comes into conflict with observation, it may be that the theory is not a complete description of the world-perhaps there are some kinds of 'hidden variables' which form part of the complete and deterministic world. And even if quantum mechanics is a true theory, it may be that it is deterministic-not all interpretations of quantum mechanics hold that it is an indeterministic theory. (In particular, it seems to me that many worlds interpretations of quantum mechanics are entirely deterministic; that there are at least some versions of Bohm theory which are deterministic; and that transactional interpretations in the style of Cramer and Price leave no room for the kind of indeterministic freedom which Schroeder prizes.) Since the moves from 'unpredictable in terms of quantum mechanics' to 'unpredictable' and from 'unpredictable' to 'indeterministic' can both be questioned, it is clear that Schroeder's argument is highly doubtful. But, even if these transitions are allowed to stand, a far more formidable difficulty remains: namely, that the kind of indeterminism which it is alleged makes room for freedom actually seems to be inconsistent with it. If my 'choices' are simply the results of indeterministic quantum transitions, then it is hard to see how I can be free in virtue of them. The best that Schroeder offers is the claim that there is an only "partly random, nondeterministic surfacing of subconscious thoughts into the conscious ... what might be described as a quantum wave function includes the range of an individuals' subconscious information" (173) But, since all of the indeteminism here is simply randomness-and since the difficulty it precisely in conceiving what else it could be-this suggestion is no help at all. Schroeder also has a chapter on, inter alia, the problem of evil. Given what he says about freedom and determinism, his line is entirely predictable- and quite inadequate to explain why God could not have created a world people with free creatures who always freely choose the good. (There are other things which Schroeder says about quantum mechanics which can also be contested. For example, he claims that the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics 'forms much of the basis of the theory' (149), where, in fact, it is just one highly contested interpretation of the theory. However, I shall not pursue these kinds of worries here.) In the chapter on free–will, Schroeder also appeals to the theory of relativity in order to reconcile divine foreknowledge and human freedom (161–5). He claims-with Boethius, Aquinas, and many others, none of whom he acknowledges-that, if God is outside of time, then there is no puzzle about divine foreknowledge: God sees the past, present and future 'all at once'. He then claims that the theory of relativity can be used to explain how it is possible for God to see the past, present and future all at once. "At the speed of light .. time ceases to flow altogether. The time of all events becomes compressed into the present, an unending now. The laws of relativity have changed timeless existence from a theological claim to a physical reality. ... Light .. is outside time, a fact proven in thousands of experiments at hundreds of universities. I don't pretend to understand how tomorrow and next year exist simultaneously with today and yesterday. But at the speed of light they actually and rigorously do. Time does not pass." (162–4) I am pretty sure that this just gets the physics wrong. In special relativity, the velocity of light is invariant across all inertial frames. Consequently, there are no inertial frames which 'travel along' with light. So-I think-there is no sense to be made of the question of the passage of time in the inertial frame of a photon. But it doesn't follow from this that photons are outside time and that, for them, time ceases to flow altogether. Photons take about eight minutes to travel from the sun to the earth. Photons can be emitted from a source at one time and absorbed by a receiver at a later time. Nothing which is outside time could do this! (Notice Schroeder's curious use of the words 'at the speed of light'. When he says 'at the speed of light .. time ceases to flow altogether', he can't mean that things which move relative to us at the speed of light are outside of time. But then what does he mean?) Can Schroeder's position be rescued by moving to general relativity? I don't think so. After all, it remains true in general relativity that photons are in time, and that a single photon can be at different places at different times. In general relativity, photons can be emitted from a source at one time and abosorbed by a receiver at a later time. So, of course, light is not 'outside time', and time does not 'cease to flow' for it. Moreover, it remains true in general relativity that no ordinary material particles can be accelerated to the velocity at which light travels in a vacuum; consequently-I think-there is still no sense to be made of the question of the passage of time in the rest–frame of a photon. (Even if we could make sense of the idea of the rest–frame of a photon, it seems clear that the conclusions which Schroeder wants to draw would not follow: for, from the standpoint of the photon, there will be a clear distinction between before and after even if there are problems associated with the measure of time. But, from the standpoint of eternity there can be no distinction between before and after. At best, Schroeder's considerations are metrical; but the proposal which Boethius makes is topological. No doubt there is more to be said about this argument of Schroeder's; I hope I have done enough to show that it is unsustainable. Note, too, that it may be that Schroeder's account of a clock based on the wave frequency of the cosmic microwave background radiation is subject to similar kinds of difficulties to the ones raised above. I don't know enough physics to be sure.) An even larger problem for Schroeder's views is raised by the attitude which he takes to quantum mechanics and general relativity. Schroeder claims that general relativity is law rather than theory (47)-i.e. he commits himself to the claim that general relativity is correct. (His use of relativity in reconciling divine foreknowledge with human freedom would make no sense unless he supposed that general relativity is true.) Similarly, Schroeder claims that quantum mechanics is true-he emphasises in several places its long and distinguished track record of making extraordinarily accurate experimental predictions (24, 149). (Again, his use of quantum mechanics in rejecting determinism would make no sense unless he supposed that quantum mechanics is true.) But-as is quite well–known-quantum mechanics and general relativity are mutually inconsistent: they cannot both be true! General relativity is a local theory; quantum mechanics is not. Either the world obeys local laws or it does not. Something has to give-and when it does, at least something important in the story which Schroeder tells will have to be given up. (Schroeder displays an extraordinary faith that the physics which we have now is correct and complete. Even aside from the fact that this faith is actually ill–founded, there are various grounds for concern. There have been various occasions in the past when people have announced that physics is correct and complete-why should we think that we are any more likely to be right? Who knows what secrets the universe may have in store for us in succeeding centuries? And-most importantly-if the Bible really is closely tied to current physics-as Schroeder would have it-then isn't it overwhelmingly likely that it will be shown to be false at some time in the future? Surely theists should not look with too much fondness on Schroeder's attempts to reinterpret the opening chapters of Genesis in terms of current science-for that just opens the door to the likely empirical refutation of that kind of theism!) As I mentioned earlier, apart from these worries about some of the philosophical and theological details of Schroeder's account, there are also general methodological worries. The account of the first thirty–one chapters of Genesis is very brief, and, with enough imagination, you can probably read into it just about whatever you like. For instance, I don't see why you couldn't hold that the very first verse tells us that the universe is infinitely old, and that it has always been creatively sustained in existence by God. Had some kind of steady state theory prevailed, I'm sure that there would have been counterparts of Schroeder arguing this very case. Indeed, in the early decades of this century, there were a number of very well– known scientists who argued that a kind of steady–state cosmology was far more consonant with Christian belief than alternative theories (MacMillan in the teens; Millikan, Nernst, and Wiechert in the twenties; Milne (sort of) in the thirties; Kapp in the early forties). Had they wished, I am sure that they could have written books like Schroeder's supporting their views. There are some things in the book which I found irritating. For example, on p.72, Schroeder writes: "The god an atheist does not believe in is usually not the God of the Bible." On the contrary, the gods in which an atheist does not believe certainly number among their ranks the God of the Bible. Or, to put the point less contentiously: Atheists hold that there are no gods. A fortiori, they hold that the God of the Bible does not exist. And so, manifestly, atheists do not believe in the God of the Bible. (I am reminded here of Ayer's complaint that Heidegger and the early Sartre supposed that 'nothing' is a name. While Ayer's complaint is not supported by a reading of either Heidegger or Sartre, it does seem that Schroeder has fallen into something like this trap.) Perhaps it could be objected to this criticism that the point which Schroeder wants to make is that atheists often do not have a very complete picture of what the Bible says about God, and hence cannot be said to be explicitly and directly rejecting the existence of that being; however, provided that atheists have fastened onto some uniquely identifying essential properties which are attributed to God in the Bible, it will be straightforwardly the case that they explicitly reject the existence of the God of the Bible. And there seems to be little doubt that most atheists do this much (if anyone does). For another example, on p.19, Schroeder writes: "The Science of God deals with the Book of Genesis, the heritage of all Western religions. Because of the book's nonsectarian nature, it employs the abbreviations B.C.E. for 'before the Common Era', instead of B.C. and C.E. for 'during the Common Era' instead of A.D." Aside from the fact that these abbreviations make no appearance in the text, there are various ways in which the book is manifestly sectarian. Not all Christian sects hold that God is outside time (159); not all Christian sects hold that the world is more than 6, 000 years old (41–71); not all Christian sects hold that we are free to choose life or death-some hold that this is pre–ordained, and that the most we can hope for is evidence about what is ordained for us (166–75); and so on. Moreover, the reliance on Maimonides, Nahmanides and the Talmud for interpretations of the Old Testament leads to interpretations-and methods of interpretation-of scriptural passages which many Christian sects would find unacceptable; for instance, I doubt very much that Schroeder's approach to Biblical interpretation is compatible with High Anglicanism. A third example is provided by Schroeder's repeated insistence-e.g. at pp.19, 51, 52, 58- that he only appeals to 'scientific opinions appearing in leading science journals' and to 'peer-reviewed data accepted in physics laboratories of leading universities'. Clearly, there is a way of reading these claims which allows that the opinions and data are controversial (and, indeed, likely false). However, it is also clear that Schroeder does not intend this reading: his (tacit) claim is that these are the prevailing opinions and data, which we should be loathe to contest. Yet, when we check for the sources he actually cites, what we find mostly are: newpapers and popular magazines (New York Times, Time, National Geographic); popular scientific journals (Scientific American); well-known popular physics books (by Penrose, Davies, Weinberg, Pagels, Hawking, Silk, etc.); well-known popular biology books (Gould, Maynard–Smith, Dawkins); and the journals Science and Nature. There are a couple of references to standard-and rather dated-texts (Peebles; Weinberg; Misner, Thorne and Wheeler; Taylor and Wheeler), and one or two references to journals (e.g. American Journal of Physics), but there are no citations from leading physics journals-i.e. from journals like Physics Review-and I suspect that the same is true of the leading biology journals as well. If Schroeder does present current majority opinions amongst physicists and biologists, this is only because popular journals and books give a fair representation of those opinions; however, it seems to me to be questionable to try to give authority to these opinions in the way that Schroeder does. There are also passages in the book which I found worse than irritating. For example, on p.143: "Science has also confirmed the biblical assertion that [only] less–than–human creatures with human–like bodies and brains existed [more than 5759 years ago]." We have already seen that Schroeder insists that all proper humans have a common ancestor who lived less than 6, 000 years ago, and before whom there were no properly human beings. But there have been people in Australia for more than 40, 000 years; and they existed in geographical isolation for more than the 6, 000 years which Schroeder mentions. So it follows, on his view, that when Europeans first came to Australia in the eighteenth century, they encountered beings which were less–than–human. This is offensive rubbish, made worse by the claim that it is said to be confirmed by science. (Could Schroeder reply that, since all he means by 'properly human' is 'possessing the concept of a transcendental, non–corporeal God', there is no harm in the claim that there were many less–than–human beings on the planet only a few hundred years ago? I don't think so: he makes it clear that only properly human beings are moral beings (137), and he also strongly suggests that invention of writing and developments in metalwork required the existence of properly human beings (130). Moreover, he says quite clearly that the less–than–human beings lack the factor which distinguishes men from beasts (139). In any case, since there are no doubt still people who do not possess the concept of a transcendental, non–corporeal God, it will follow that even today there are less–than–human people of normal intelligence-and that is surely a suggestion which is completely at odds with the expected connotations of the expression 'properly human'.) The problems raised in this review do no more than gesture at the range of criticisms which one might lodge against Schroeder's book. Leaving many controversial matters untouched, I shall conclude with a couple of observations about Schroeder's treatment of orthodox neo– Darwinian accounts of evolution. Schroeder claims that the kinds of arguments which he gives provide compelling reasons for thinking that the evolution of life was pre–programmed by an intelligent designer. These arguments mostly take the form of calculations which show that certain kinds of complex structures could not have arisen as the result of random events in the time–spans available (e.g. that chimpanzees and Cro–magnon man could not have evolved from a common ancestor as a result of ramdom genetic mutations in seven million years (116–124); that the convergence observed in convergent evolution-e.g. invertebrate and vertebrate eyes-could not have been the result of independent random reactions in the time available (93–4, 101–114); and that the explosion of life at the time of the appearance of liquid water on the surface of the earth could not have been the result of independent random reactions in the brief period of time in which an astonishing diversity of forms of life appeared (29–33, 34–40, 83–94). The kinds of calculations which Schroeder gives are familiar: du Nouy's 1947 calculation of the probability of the spontaneous assemblage of a protein molecule from its constituent atoms is of the same type. Moreover, the kinds of responses which one might make are also well–known. On the one hand-as Schroeder admits-there are various uncertainties in the calculations, which might make the figures slightly unreliable (though there is reason to think that Schroeder's figures are quite conservative). On the other hand-and far more importantly-the obvious conclusion to draw in each case is that mistaken assumptions have been made about the mechanism of evolution. It should not be part of standard evolutionary theory to suppose that the first protein molecule was randomly assembled for its constituent atoms-as Hoyle observed (in a slightly different context), calculations like the one made by du Nouy show that construction of a protein molecule in this way is as likely as the assemblage of a 747 by a tornado whirling through a junkyard. But all that is required is some intermediate steps in the passage from atoms to protein (steps which need not all proceed linearly in time, and each of which can be expected to happen in quite small amounts of time with sufficient frequency to make it probable that there will eventually be plenty of protein molecules). Of course, it remains for the evolutionary theorist to give an account of those steps-but there is no reason to suppose that there is any difficulty of principle here. The same kinds of considerations apply to Schroeder's arguments. Given that the early explosion of life on the cool earth cannot be explained according to Darwin's 'warm little pond' hypothesis, evolutionary theorists need to look for some other account. Various suggestions have been made-e.g. Cairns–Smith's clay–based theory and Hoyle's theory of intergalactic origins-though all remain rather speculative. Most recently, there has been considerable interest in the idea that life may have begun deep under the earth's crust, in rather warmer conditions than has thus far been supposed. The crucial point-for present purposes-is that these remain theories in which life starts by chance. None of Schroeder's calculations establish that certain things cannot be the result of chance; at best, they show that some further mechanism remains to be identified which shows how these things can be the result of chance. (Of course, the considerations offered here do not address the cosmic fine–tuning arguments; there, I take it, a quite different response is needed. But that is something which I have discussed elsewhere; I shall not repeat myself here.)


Review of Kristin Andrews' _Do Apes Read Minds? Toward a New Folk Psychology_

Philosophy

Kristin Andrews proposes a new framework for thinking about folk psychology, which she calls Pluralistic Folk Psychology. Her approach emphasizes kinds of psychological prediction and explanation that don't rest on propositional attitude attribution. Here I review some elements of her theory and find that, although the approach is very promising, there's still work to be done before we can conclude that the manners of prediction and explanation she identifies don't involve implicit propositional attitude attribution.

/13/13 2:36 PMDo Apes Read Minds?: Toward a New Folk Psychology // Reviews // Notre Dame Philosophical Reviews // University of Notre Dame Page 1 of 6http://ndpr.nd.edu/news/39001-do-apes-read-minds-toward-a-new-folk-psychology/ College of Arts and Letters Notre Dame Philosophical Reviews 2013.04.09 Author Kristin Andrews Do Apes Read Minds?: Toward a New Folk Psychology Published: April 07, 2013 Kristin Andrews, Do Apes Read Minds?: Toward a New Folk Psychology, MIT Press, 2012, 312pp., $38.00 (hbk), ISBN 9780262017558. Reviewed by Neil Van Leeuwen, Georgia State University and University of Johannesburg There's no doubt it's an important problem. Here's the familiar progression. As the ice of behaviorism melted in the second half of the 20th century, we noticed two things. First, people have minds. Second, people think about other people's minds. These ideas were seeds in the cognitive revolution's spring. We can study minds the way physicists study their unobservables -for them electrons, for us beliefs -inferring hidden causes behind data we collect. And perhaps, while being interesting in its own right, peoples' ways of thinking about other minds could give initial purchase on what psychological states are. Thus, from this second seed arose the theory of mind/mindreading/folk psychology projects that have flourished since the 1980s, with vigorous debates over whether humans understand other minds by way of theories, simulations, or -altogether now! -a hybrid of theory and simulation. The data nourishing these projects came largely from two anthropocentric sources: the false belief test, regarded as almost definitive of mentalistic understanding, and autistic humans, whose deficits highlight by contrast mindreading capacities "normal" people have. But the frost of behaviorism has departed more slowly from our primate relatives. Though most cognitive scientists happily accord minds to non-human great apes and other animals, resistance is more common and vigorous than in the human case. "How can a creature without language have beliefs!" cries the neo-Davidsonian. More to the present point, almost up to this past decade something like behaviorism was the prevailing picture (with notable exceptions) of how non-human apes understand other creatures. A mere chimpanzee, most thought, couldn't do something as sophisticated as attribute unobservable mental states, like perception, belief, desire, and knowledge; they must think of other creatures only in behaviors. Every chimp was a Skinnerian. But even that patch of frost has started to melt, which brings us to our problem and to Kristin Andrews' engaging new book. It's become clear that other great apes, like chimps, have much in common with us when it comes to doing folk psychology. They track goals and perceptual awareness in other creatures, including awareness of what has been seen and not just what currently is seen (see Call and Tomasello 2008 for a concise review). But on traditional views of mindreading in humans, to be a folk psychologist at all entails understanding beliefs -especially false beliefs. The most well-designed experiments, however, don't support the view that chimps understand false beliefs or perhaps beliefs at all. So we're in a quandary: nonhuman great apes cognize more of genuine psychology than a brute Skinnerian could stomach, but they lack the key form of mental state attribution that was thought to constitute having a folk psychology at all. So how does their folk psychologizing work? Andrews proposes a way out: Pluralistic Folk Psychology. Reviewing ample evidence from social psychology, she argues it is a mistake to regard propositional attitude attribution as the sole or even primary means by which humans predict and explain 4/13/13 2:36 PMDo Apes Read Minds?: Toward a New Folk Psychology // Reviews // Notre Dame Philosophical Reviews // University of Notre Dame Page 2 of 6http://ndpr.nd.edu/news/39001-do-apes-read-minds-toward-a-new-folk-psychology/ behavior. To this end, Andrews argues that folk psychological prediction and explanation are not just mirror images: the "psychological symmetry thesis" holds that the processes of prediction are the same as those of explanation, just in reverse, and she rejects this view as a relic of Hempelian philosophy of science. Having seen this point, we can hold that we predict behavior by a plurality of strategies, while attributing beliefs and desires mainly to explain behaviors, especially those outside the norm. If her plurality thesis is true, we can then hold that non-human apes share some of our predictive folk psychological strategies, even if they lack the explanatory machinery of propositional attitude attribution. Implicitly held views about symmetry between prediction and explanation were an invisible cage, preventing theorists from realizing that humans and other primates predict behavior by means other than those by which humans tend to explain behavior. This diagnosis of underlying intellectual currents may or may not be correct. But a pluralistic folk psychology is worth pursuing anyway, despite a lurking problem. So let's review some of Andrews' key theses. Andrews discusses "four methods of predicting behavior that arise from research in social psychology: predicting from the situation, predicting from self, predicting from trait attribution, and predicting from stereotype" (p. 68). People use these regularly, she holds, without positing beliefs or desires. Thus, these methods could bridge human and non-human ape folk psychology. Andrews gives the following examples of predicting from situation: Whether someone just finished a long bike ride or disembarked from a plane in a foreign country, it is easy to generate scenarios the individual might follow. The cyclist will probably drink some water and take a shower. The passenger might rush toward the customs line or use the restroom. If you needed to find the cyclist after he finished his ride, you would look in the kitchen and the bathroom. (p. 71) She thinks that situational prediction on the part of folk psychologists often won't involve positing beliefs or desires. Why? She argues as follows, as best I can reconstruct: working out an agent's future behavior from propositional attitude attribution often yields inaccurate predictions, while predictions from situations can be quite accurate, so it's likely that the latter prediction is typically devoid of belief and desire attribution. We shall return to this point. Predicting from self, on Andrews' view, also doesn't involve belief and desire attribution, and in this it is cognitively simpler than simulation. If I'm predicting your behavior from myself, I needn't adopt offline versions of your beliefs or desires to run through my cognitive machinery; I just ask what I would do or feel in your situation. And Andrews cites evidence that children at least don't adjust for the desires of the persons they predict: "when told a story about an actor who wants another child to be hit by a ball, subjects younger than five years are unable to suppress their own sentiments and will say that the actor is sad when the child is hit by the ball (Yuill 1984; Yuill et al. 1996)" (p. 75). Predictions from stereotypes and traits are related to each other but not identical. "Stereotypes are sets of properties that are associated with a particular group or kind of person" (p. 81). For example, "Children's early stereotypes of sex roles lead them to expect that boys won't skip rope and that girls won't play with trucks" (p. 82). There is an upside and a downside to folk psychological stereotypes: stereotypes are cognitively efficient in being fast, easy to use, and information rich, and predictions from stereotypes are often more accurate than predictions from other strategies, but stereotypes are the stuff of prejudice and can continue to infect judgments of others even when there's evidence they don't apply. Traits are more specific properties, not necessarily inferred from group membership. Extroversion, introversion, rudeness, kindness, stinginess, generosity, etc. are all traits. Traits attributed by the folk psychologist, as Andrews construes them, are causally efficacious dispositional mental states; people infer them quickly from very little behavioral evidence and use them 4/13/13 2:36 PMDo Apes Read Minds?: Toward a New Folk Psychology // Reviews // Notre Dame Philosophical Reviews // University of Notre Dame Page 3 of 6http://ndpr.nd.edu/news/39001-do-apes-read-minds-toward-a-new-folk-psychology/ extensively in other predictions. Again a trade-off: speed, automation, and relative accuracy at the cost of recalcitrant error when the trait attributed does not apply. Critically, once again, Andrews thinks folk psychologists needn't and typically don't attribute beliefs or desires when predicting from stereotypes and traits. And there is the lurking problem, as many present readers may have suspected. When I ascribe traits like selfishness or generosity, am I not also ascribing desires, like desires for the self or others to have in abundance? Correspondingly, if I ascribe rudeness on the basis of a stereotype, am I not implicitly ascribing mental states, like a bad attitude? Is not the stereotyped boy thought to believe jumping rope is for girls? Many cognitive scientists hold that such propositional attitude attributions are made by a fast, unconscious theory of mind system. The same point applies to predictions from the self and from the situation. When I ask how you will act by asking what I would do, am I not putting myself in the situation as seen by you (even if I don't imagine your further desires)? When I predict from an agent's situation, do I not track what she knows about the situation? I predict the agent will go to the kitchen after his bike ride, if I think he knows where it is. When I think he doesn't know, I predict he will ask or look. Either way, knowledge attribution is critical to what I predict, even if I am broadly predicting from the situation. So a traditionalist about folk psychology, especially from the theory theory camp, would say that Andrews has only identified sub-categories of folk prediction that ultimately rely on implicit attribution of propositional attitudes. Andrews is of course aware of this response to her views and deals with it in various ways, constantly attempting to minimize the role of contentful state attribution in folk psychologizing. But I must confess that I never found her arguments relating to this point compelling. Since this point is at the heart of what it is to be a folk psychologist, it's worth reviewing some of those arguments. I'll review three and raise what I take to be the core concerns. First, early in the book, Andrews challenges the standard interpretation of the false belief task. In this task, subjects see the following: an agent leaves/sees something in location A; that something is moved to location B when the agent is away or not looking; the subject must then indicate where she thinks the agent expects the object to be. Subjects who indicate location A are standardly interpreted as attributing false beliefs to the agent and thereby "pass" the test. It used to be thought that children couldn't pass until age four or so, but recent evidence based on violation of expectation (looking times) and anticipatory looking has infants passing at younger than age two (Onishi and Baillargeon 2005; Baillargeon, Scott, and He 2010). Andrews rejects the standard interpretation, however. Instead, she says infants may have associations or behavioral rules, may reason from ignorance, or may engage in explicit simulation. Let me address the first of these suggestions. One behavioral rule Andrews thinks may explain success on the false belief task is that people look for objects where they left them; she makes this suggestion twice in the book (p. 33 and p. 110). The problem with this explanation, however, is that on several versions of the paradigm, the agent whose behavior the subject is observing does not "leave" the object in question anywhere; rather, an experimenter's hand moves the objects around in the agent's sight or in the agent's absence (e.g., the caterpillar experiment; see Baillargeon, Scott, and He 2010, p. 111). So Andrews mooted behavioral rule, in those cases, couldn't be what subjects use to anticipate the agent's behavior. The interpretation that says subjects attribute false beliefs remains the only one that (on my view) concisely accounts for the diverse array of false belief tasks, many of which are designed with controls that rule out the sort of explanation Andrews posits. Second, Heidi Maibom (2003, 2007, 2009) and Peter Godfrey-Smith (2005) have proposed different versions of the view that folk psychology is like theoretical modeling in science. We predict and explain the behavior of others by constructing a model of their psychology that posits various psychological states, manipulating the model to get predictions and explanations. This view has multiple advantages over more traditional versions of the theory theory, such as the fact that 4/13/13 2:36 PMDo Apes Read Minds?: Toward a New Folk Psychology // Reviews // Notre Dame Philosophical Reviews // University of Notre Dame Page 4 of 6http://ndpr.nd.edu/news/39001-do-apes-read-minds-toward-a-new-folk-psychology/ there are multiple ways of construing a model, which makes sense of the range of attitudes one can take to the metaphysical status of a posit like belief, despite that posit's having a common folk psychological utility. Now, Andrews is more a fan of the model version of theory theory than of the traditional version, but she nevertheless criticizes it. Another worry about the model theory is that it seems not to leave room for some of the automatic processes involved in our folk psychology practices. Our unmediated responses to others' facial expressions, hormones, movements, and touches suggests an immediacy in our folk psychology that is not reflected by any exhaustive theoretical account. (p. 205) Andrews is referring to findings such as the fact that brief touch, even if we're not conscious of it, can cause us to judge the person touching to be more trustworthy. But it's hard to see why Andrews thinks model theory "seems not to leave room" for such processes. Godfrey-Smith explicitly writes, "My view can allow that elements might be introduced to the folkpsychological model via a number of different paths" (p. 8, his italics). Sub-personal cognition of things like light touch and oxytocin may cause us to feel a certain way toward someone, and that feeling inclines us to include trustworthy (or whatever) in our folk psychological model of that person. That model is then used for further prediction and explanation. So I think Andrews' critique of model theory doesn't go through. And since model theory holds that beliefs and desires are typically components of folk psychological models, it still hasn't been made plausible that we can do folk psychology without attributing them.[1] Third, Andrews writes, in a discussion of cognitive resources needed to perpetrate deception: a theory of mind offers an advantage only when predicting the behavior of someone else with a theory of mind; when predicting the behavior of others who lack a theory of mind, attributing beliefs will normally offer no additional predictive power. (p. 219) Her idea, I take it, is that attributing beliefs is only useful for predicting organisms who can also attribute beliefs. If this were true, then the predictive value of belief and desire attribution would be severely restricted, and it would become correspondingly more plausible that we often get by without it. But in general, having a theory of property P is useful for predicting entities that have property P, not only for predicting entities that also have a theory of property P. A theory of mass applies to objects with mass, not just objects with a theory of mass. And the point carries over to theories of mind, as far as I can tell. Knowing my cat believes her catnip mouse is under the sofa helps me predict what she'll do when I lift up the sofa. So again, I'm unconvinced by Andrews attempt at downplaying the predictive utility of a propositional attitudeattributing theory of mind. Let's review the dialectic. Andrews wants to show there are ways creatures can do folk psychology that don't rely on belief and desire attribution. This will allow us to understand how non-human apes and other animals could be folk psychologists. Thus, she (i) identifies manners of prediction in humans that don't prima facie implicate such attribution and (ii) criticizes views that posit propositional attitude attribution, as a way of suggesting folk psychologists can do without it. If (ii) were successful, that would undermine the arguments of those who want to say there is mindreading implicitly going on in the manners of prediction referenced in (i). Note further that all Andrews needs is an existential claim, not a universal one, with respect to each of her manners of prediction (and explanation) that she argues do not involve propositional attitude attribution: to serve her wider aims, it only needs to be the case that we sometimes attribute (for example) traits without attributing attitudes; it needn't be all the time. As long as it's sometimes, there are at least some folk psychological strategies we could share with our primate cousins. But it doesn't seem to me that (ii) is successful, as I've been arguing. If I'm right, then it remains an open question whether the predictive strategies Andrews discusses in humans in fact always involve implicit propositional attitude attribution, as some think, or not. And if that's true, it's unclear to what extent those strategies can be the bridge between 4/13/13 2:36 PMDo Apes Read Minds?: Toward a New Folk Psychology // Reviews // Notre Dame Philosophical Reviews // University of Notre Dame Page 5 of 6http://ndpr.nd.edu/news/39001-do-apes-read-minds-toward-a-new-folk-psychology/ human and non-human folk psychology. The problem still lurks. I do think that Andrews has an overall valuable and interesting approach for showing continuity between human and nonhuman folk psychology: show that there are ways of predicting and explaining behavior that humans could share with nonhuman primates, given the latter's apparent limitations on understanding false beliefs. It's just that the approach, as it stands, needs additional execution. That, of course, is normal for cognitive science. Do Apes Read Minds? has much to recommend it that I haven't had space to discuss. In addition to engaging thoroughly with the relevant social psychology and philosophy of science, it introduces a new pluralistic framework for theorizing about folk psychological explanation (Chapters 7 and 8); it introduces a new evolutionary theory of how folk behavioral explanation came to be and contrasts this view with the famous Social Intelligence Hypothesis (Chapter 11); it reviews relevant primatology literatures, like the literature on coordinated chimpanzee hunting (Chapter 12) -and much else. So the book makes progress and is worth reading. In the end, I did feel that spring was closer to arriving for our primate relatives. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS I'd like to thank Heidi Maibom, Guilherme Sanches de Oliveira, and Shannon Spaulding for feedback on an earlier draft of this review. I'd like to thank Deena Skolnick Weisberg for an email exchange that helped clarify my view of the false belief task literature. REFERENCES Baillargeon, R., Scott, R., and He, Z. (2010) "False-belief understanding in infants," Trends in Cognitive Science 14(3), pp. 110-118 Call, J. and Tomasello, M. (2008) "Does the chimpanzee have a theory of mind? 30 years later," Trends in Cognitive Science 12, pp. 187-192 Godfrey-Smith, P. (2005) "Folk Psychology as a Model," Philosophers Imprint 5(6), pp. 1-16 Maibom, H. (2003) "The Mindreader & the Scientist," Mind and Language 18, pp. 296-315 Maibom, H. (2007) "The Presence of Others," Philosophical Studies, 132, 161-190 Maibom, H. (2009) "In Defense of (Model) Theory Theory," Journal of Consciousness Studies 16(6-8), pp. 360-378 Onishi, K. H. and Baillargeon, R. (2005) "Do 15-month-old infants understand false beliefs?" Science 308, pp. 255-58 Yuill, N. (1984) "Young children's coordination of motive and outcome in judgments of satisfaction and morality," British Journal of Developmental Psychology 2, pp. 73-81 Yuill, N., Perner, J., Pearson, A., Peerbhoy, D., Van den Ende, J. (1996) "Children's changing understanding of wicked desires: From objective to subjective to moral." British Journal of Developmental Psychology 14, pp. 457-475 [1] For Maibom, there are actually three kinds of theoretical models that agents use to predict and explain others: behavioral, social (based on role structure and purposes), and full-blown psychological. She holds a view that seems friendly to Andrews', namely, that the first two kinds of model needn't involve internal state attribution. So the availability of this version of model theory leaves me somewhat perplexed as to why Andrews bothers to criticize model theory at all. Why she would criticize 4/13/13 2:36 PMDo Apes Read Minds?: Toward a New Folk Psychology // Reviews // Notre Dame Philosophical Reviews // University of Notre Dame Page 6 of 6http://ndpr.nd.edu/news/39001-do-apes-read-minds-toward-a-new-folk-psychology/ Godfrey-Smith's version of it is clearer. Copyright © 2013 ISSN: 1538 1617 College of Arts and Letters Notre Dame, IN


The Ghostly Illusion of Freewill

Philosophy

The Ghostly Illusion of Freewill (A brief introduction to the problem of freewill for Cafe Philosophy magazine) By BRENT SILBY During my childhood I was fascinated by videogames. One game that stands out in my memory is Pacman. It wasn't the gameplay that interested me so much as the behavior of the ghosts. As you watch them roam around the maze, you get the feeling that they are intelligent. They seem to be making decisions about how best to catch Pacman. But how free are their decisions? One of the interesting things I noticed was that I could play exactly the same game over and over if I moved Pacman in precisely the same way each time. The ghosts always followed the same behavioral pattern and didn't deviate from that pattern until I changed my pattern. Experimenting with Pacman in this way revealed to me something about the ghosts' behavior. True, they make decisions, but their decisions are firmly and predictably determined by the way I move around the maze. Another way to reveal the ghosts' behavior is by analyzing the Pacman computer program. Toru Iwatani, the creator of Pacman, has intimate knowledge of the program and can precisely predict how the ghosts will behave in any given situation. This is achieved by analyzing gameplay variables such as the x,y position of Pacman and the x,y position of each of the ghosts, then working through the program's source code to determine how each ghost will move in light of these variables. So it seems that the ghosts, while making decisions in a sense, are not making free decisions. Their moves are based on an a pre-defined set of rules-an algorithm-which produces behavior in response to the state of the game. If Pacman is positioned to the Brent Silby! Freewill ! 1 left of a ghost, the ghost will move left-unless its path is blocked by a wall. If its path is blocked, the ghost will either move up or down, and this choice depends upon whether there is another ghost approaching from above or below. Whenever this situation occurs, the ghost acts in precisely the same way. Ghosts cannot act differently because their behavior is determined by the computer program. Now, this may seem obvious. Of course the ghosts have to follow rules. If they didn't, they might never catch Pacman. The ghosts do not have freewill. They can't decide not to chase Pacman. They do exactly what their program tells them to do in any given situation. However, they do provide an illusion that they are making free choices. We can accept that the ghosts in Pacman do not have freewill because they inhabit a simple deterministic world, but what about more sophisticated entities such as humans? Surely we have freewill. After all, our behavior is much more complex, and we certainly feel free? Intuitively, many declare that we most certainly do have freewill. But we have to remind ourselves that the world we inhabit is also a deterministic system- more complicated than the Pacman world, but deterministic nonetheless. There are laws of nature that are consistent throughout the Universe. These laws determine the behavior of all natural systems from planetary motion to the firing of neurons in the human brain. Now, in analyzing the neural activity of the brain, philosophers such as Paul Churchland (1996) conclude that the brain is a type of computer. It is not a digital computer like a Pacman machine; rather, it is device known as a connectionist network. Interestingly, since computer scientists can simulate connectionist networks using traditional digital computers (Copeland & Proudfoot, 2000; Fischetti, 2011), it is possible that future scientists will be able to represent the neural activity of the entire brain as a digital computer Brent Silby! Freewill ! 2 program. Such a program would be unimaginably more complex than the Pacman program. However, despite its complexity, scientists could, in principle (although unlikely in practice) use it to make accurate predictions about a person's behavior. They would do this in the same way that Toru Iwatani predicts the behavior of Pacman's ghosts-by collecting complete information about the current state of the world, analyzing the current state of a person's memory, then working through the brain's program to discover the person's next action. Imagine, for example, that scientists have a printout of Fred's brain. This printout contains the complete brain program and a full memory download. Armed with this printout, along with complete knowledge of the laws of physics and current state of the world, scientists predict that at midday on July 23rd Fred will murder his business partner, Robert. Imagine now that Fred does indeed commit murder just as predicted. The scientists knew that Fred was going to commit the crime before Fred made the decision. In this way, it seems that Fred's decision was not free. In fact, with all the conditions in place, it would have been impossible for Fred to choose anything other than to murder Robert. Why? Because if he was to choose anything else, the scientists would have predicted that outcome. You can imagine resetting the world to it's state at 6am on July 23rd and watching the whole scenario play out identically-just like resetting the Pacman machine and playing an identical game. Given that we live in a Universe governed by a consistent set of rules; and given that our brains are computational devices that operate according to the laws of physics, it seems we cannot escape the conclusion that we do not have freewill. We experience an illusion of freewill, but essentially, we are as free as the ghosts roaming around Pacman's maze. Brent Silby! Freewill ! 3 References Churchland, P.M. (1996), The Engine of Reason, the Seat of the Soul, The MIT Press, 1996 Copeland, B.J. and Proudfoot, D. (2000) "Turing's Neural Networks of 1948" alanturing.net, available at: http://www.alanturing.net/turing_archive/pages/ Reference Articles/connectionism/Turing's neural networks.html, [Accessed 27 December 2011] Fischetti, M. (2011) "IBM Simulates 4.5 percent of the Human Brain, and All of the Cat Brain", Scientific American (online), November 2011, available at: http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=graphic-science-ibmsimulates-4-percent-human-brain-all-of-cat-brain, [Accessed 2 January 2012] Brent Silby! Freewill !