MY FIRST lesson in why the deck is stacked against scientists who debate with
creationists came 13 years ago on a national TV programme. The topic was a
Supreme Court decision to throw out laws that require equal time to be given to
teaching creation science and evolution. I’d recently left my job as a college
professor to become the Director of the National Center for Science Education.
And my opponent was Duane Gish of the Institute for Creation Research
in San Diego. Gish is known for chewing up evolutionists in debate, and I didn’t
want to be his next snack.
I went on the offensive, confronting Gish with the fact that, during the
previous 15 years or so, membership of an organisation of scientists, the
Creation Research Society, had remained constant at about 600—clearly,
scientists were not rallying around his flag.
“Dr Gish,” I proposed, “If creation science is such great science, why aren’t
more scientists jumping on your bandwagon?” His response was instant. “But Dr
Scott, hundreds of scientists are giving up on gradual evolution.”
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He was right, of course. This was 1987, and there was quite a kerfluffle
going on among scientists over whether the pace of evolution was gradual or
jerky—the “punctuated equilibria” debate. But I knew damn well that the
audience wasn’t going to hear the word “gradual” in that sentence—only
that “hundreds of scientists were giving up on evolution”. Gish had scored.
There were 15 seconds to go before a commercial break, certainly no time for a
scholarly treatise on the pace of evolution. My heart raced, I hesitated before
beginning to speak . . . and the programme’s host moved on to another guest
before announcing the commercial break. I had lost my opportunity.
I was angry because instead of answering my question, Gish had cleverly used
my attack on him to put me on the defensive—a good debating ploy but not
the way we do science. And debates are about scoring points, not arguing
scientific issues, which is why so many scientists lose out in encounters with
creationists.
Creationists long ago learned the benefits of posing simple questions that
have long and complex answers. Scientists are all too ready to take the bait.
Most academics are used to explaining things in 50-minute lectures. On TV or
with a live audience you often have less than a minute to make your point.
What’s more, there are few chances to correct misunderstandings: unlike college
students, the audience won’t be coming back next week.
Flooded out
Creationists also present a flood of points that you don’t have time to
refute. A caller to a radio phone-in show I was on once argued: “Scientists are
always covering up the evidence against evolution, because if they didn’t, their
funding would dry up.” He named three examples including the Piltdown forgery,
the discovery in 1912 of what looked like hominid fossil bones but which later
turned out to be a hoax.
I replied that the forgery was discovered by scientists, not creationists,
and is an example of the self-correcting nature of science. But before I could
get to the caller’s other examples, I was told “Sorry, Dr Scott, we’re out of
time.” The audience was left thinking that evolution is on shaky ground.
There’s another reason why scientists do badly on the debating floor: science
and debate work by different rules. Debates are sporting events, far removed
from the messy, lengthy process of building a scientific consensus. Furthermore,
formal debates tend to attract more creationist supporters than scientists.
Being pitched against a creationist is rather like playing basketball against
the Harlem Globetrotters: you might make some good shots, but few observers are
there to see your game; they are there to cheer the Globetrotters. They are
rarely interested in learning about evolution and the nature of science. The
creationists are only too pleased to take part because a formal debate will
always ensure them a bigger crowd than if they spoke alone at some church. Your
appearance merely ensures that the faithful will be further inspired.
Scientists should refuse formal debates because they do more harm than good,
but scientists still need to counter the creationist message. Better techniques
include writing letters to editors of newspapers, taking part in phone-in shows,
and in getting counterarguments into the heads of students and colleagues.
That said, whether it’s writing letters or taking part in phone-ins,
scientists need to know how to simplify a complex argument and be ready to
present it quickly and clearly, while keeping cool. When Gish argued in our
first encounter that “hundreds of scientists are giving up on gradual
evolution”. I should have hit right back with: “That’s an argument about how
evolution occurs, not whether. No one’s giving up on evolution.”
On radio phone-in shows, I’m often asked: “If man evolved from monkeys, why
are there still apes?” The best answer to this is: that evolution is like a
family tree: you and your brother share your father as an ancestor, but you are
not descended from your brother. In the same way, we shared a common ancestor
with apes, but we are not descended from apes.
Scientists need to respond effectively to the attacks on evolution. Keeping
answers simple is key. Creationists present simple questions, and the public
rarely has the back-ground to understand the complex answers.
What they hear is more important than what you say. For scientists used to
dry academic arguments, the biggest shock of all may be that it isn’t enough to
just tell people the facts, you have to persuade them that you are right. Keep
it short, keep it simple and accurate, and keep it friendly. Even when you want
to grit your teeth, smile, instead.
