vividly remember the first time I was hijacked on the radio. I had agreed to
participate in a debate for a Florida radio program that specialized in
alien visits and U.F.O. sightings. My better judgment suggested that I
should be wary. But I thought if I kept my focus purely on the physics
challenges involved in space travel, I might be able to persuade some
listeners to be skeptical of the claims that aliens were regularly visiting,
abducting and experimenting with our fellow earthlings.
I should have known better. After 45 minutes defending myself against the
claim that I was close-minded, when I argued that science did in fact impose
constraints on what is possible, and politely responding to demands that I
must first scrupulously review all the specific claims of alien sightings
before I could possibly have the temerity to make general statements about
plausibility or implausibility, I felt that any uninformed listeners who
might have been waiting to be swayed probably found themselves merely
confused at the end of the show.
In a debate that confronts the results of science with pseudoscience,
from alien abductions and crop circles on one hand to the health benefits of
weak magnetic fields or young earth creationism on the other, the odds are
stacked against science.
Part of the problem is uniquely American. We in the United States are
constantly regaled by stories about the limitless possibilities open to
those with know-how and a spirit of enterprise. Combine that with a public
that perceives the limits of science as targets that are constantly being
overcome, and the suggestion that anything is absolutely impossible seems
like an affront. Indeed, modern technology has made the seemingly impossible
almost ordinary. How often have I heard the cry from an audience, "Yeah, but
300 years ago people would have said it would be impossible to fly!"
Although true, the problem with that assertion is that 300 years ago
people did not know enough about the laws of physics to make the assertion,
so the claim would have been improper. Had they made a simpler claim like,
"Three hundred years from now, if you drop this cannonball off the Tower of
Pisa, it will fall down," they would have been right.
Although it is probably true that there is far more that we do not know
about nature than that we do know, we do know something! We know that balls,
when dropped, fall down. We do know that the earth is round and not flat. We
do know how electromagnetism works, and we do know that the earth is
billions of years old, not thousands.
We may not know how spacecraft of the future will be propelled, whether
matter-antimatter drives will be built or even if time travel is possible.
But we do know, absolutely, how much on-board fuel will be needed to speed
up a substantial spacecraft to near the speed of light an enormous amount,
probably enough to power all of human civilization at the present time for
perhaps a decade.
That means that aliens who want to come here from a distant star will
probably have to have some better reason than merely performing secret kinky
experiments on the patients of a Harvard psychiatrist.
As difficult as debating ultimate limits of the possible may be, there is
another debate that is even harder to win. But it is a debate that may be
even more important. It is a debate on the "fairness" of science. The reason
for the difficulty is simple. Science is not fair. All ideas are not treated
equally. Only those that have satisfied the test of experiment or can be
tested by experiment have any currency. Beautiful ideas, elegant ideas and
even sacrosanct notions are not immune from termination by the chilling
knife edge of experimental data.
In Ohio, a debate is raging over whether to teach "intelligent design"
alongside evolution in high school biology classes. Intelligent design is
based on the belief that life is too complicated to explain by natural
causes alone and that some intelligence, ultimately some divine
intelligence, must have created the original life forms on earth or guided
their development.
Proponents of that idea suggest that including it in the curriculum is
simply a question of fairness. If a significant number of people do not
believe that evolution provides an adequate explanation of the origin of
species, they argue, then it is only fair to present both sides of the
argument in a high school science class.
But at least half of Americans polled in a recent survey by the National
Science Foundation did not know that Earth orbits the Sun, and that it takes
a year to do so. Does this mean we should teach that Earth is the center of
the universe? Of course not. It merely means that we are not doing a very
good job informing the public about physics.
Science is not a democratic process. It does not proceed by majority rule
and it does not accept notions that have already been disproven by
experiment.
Intelligent design makes assertions that cannot be tested by experiment.
Those assertions that can be tested, say about blood clotting or the claimed
irreducible complexity of various components of cells, seem to have thus far
failed those tests. So intelligent design does not belong in a science
class. End of story.
Nevertheless, recently the Ohio State School Board felt it necessary to
run a hearing on evolution vs. intelligent design in a debate format, with
two proponents of evolution to face off against two advocates of intelligent
design in Columbus.
One might think that I would know better than to agree to participate in
such a debate. But I did, because I felt the education of schoolchildren in
Ohio was so important.
Nevertheless, I tried to learn from my earlier mistakes. Merely having a
debate inevitably suggests that each side has some credibility. As a result,
opponents of the scientific method like creationists try very hard to appear
in debates with scientists. Merely being on the same stage represents a
victory!
I made sure that I emphasized this intrinsic inequity in my opening
remarks in Columbus, and it colored much of the subsequent discussion, as
well as the later reporting of the event. I do not know whether it was
sufficient to let listeners focus on whether there was really anything worth
debating in the first place. But it at least allowed for that possibility.
In the meantime, for those scientists who find themselves thrust in such
public debates, I have found at least one useful tool. When debating U.F.O.
experts, ask them whether they believe in "Young Earth Creationism." When
debating young earth creationists, ask them whether they believe in alien
U.F.O.'s. When they say no, ask why. Their answers will inevitably shed
light on the weakness of their own positions.
Of course, as has once happened to me, you might find yourself debating a
U.F.O.-believing creationist. But you can't win them all. My hope is that
you can win at least some of the time.