IN A in The New York Times, physicist Paul Davies asserts that it is a mistake to distinguish science from religion by describing the former as based on testable hypotheses while the latter is based on faith. 鈥淭he problem with this neat separation,鈥� he says, 鈥渋s that science has its own faith-based belief system.鈥�
Davies does not seem especially clear about what he means by this. He begins by describing scientific faith as 鈥渢he assumption that nature is ordered in a rational and intelligible way鈥�, but soon shifts to describing it as 鈥渂elief in the existence of something outside the universe, like鈥� an unexplained set of physical laws鈥�. Either way, the failure or refusal to explain the source of physical laws is, he says, to regard nature as 鈥渞ooted in reasonless absurdity鈥�.
The brevity of the piece does not allow Davies 鈥� who won for progress towards spiritual discoveries 鈥� to offer his now familiar suggestion that the universe is 鈥渟elf-conscious鈥� or contains a 鈥渓ife principle鈥� which obliges the laws of physics to take a form necessary for the existence of intelligent life. There are half a dozen competing suggestions, most of them better than this one, as to why the universe鈥檚 (or this universe鈥檚) parameters are as they are. Even the one that says 鈥渋t is just a bald fact that they are so鈥� does not deserve Davies鈥檚 tendentious description of them as a commitment to 鈥渞easonless absurdity鈥�. It is a perfectly consistent possible truth that seems unsatisfactory only to the pattern-seeking, reason-requiring impulse with which evolution has endowed the human mind.
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Davies could also not be more wrong in describing science鈥檚 assumption that the universe is orderly and intelligible as an 鈥渁ct of faith鈥�. Patterns and regularities are a salient feature of nature, even to casual observation, and well motivate the assumption that they hold generally, or that when they fail to hold they do so for likewise orderly reasons. Once thus made, the assumption is then powerfully justified by the success of making testable predictions that are based on it.
Making well-motivated, evidence-based assumptions that are in turn supported by their efficacy in testing predictions is the very opposite of faith. Faith is commitment to belief in something either in the absence of evidence or in the face of countervailing evidence. It is seen as a theological virtue precisely for this reason, as the story of Doubting Thomas is designed to illustrate. In everyday speech we use the phrase 鈥渉e took it on faith鈥� to mean 鈥渨ithout question, without examining the grounds鈥�; this captures its essence.
If the assumption of nature鈥檚 orderliness frequently or haphazardly failed to be borne out we would register the fact, supposing we survived the mistake in the first place. True, this amounts to offering inductive support for induction; but this does not mean that the circle cannot be explanatory, as shown by the fact that it is a mark of irrationality not to rely on the success of past inductions in a present one. To see why, imagine saying: 鈥淓very time I have been out in the rain without an umbrella in the past I have got wet; but inductive reasoning is fallible, so perhaps this time I will stay dry.鈥�
鈥淚f the assumption of nature鈥檚 orderliness were not borne out, we would register it鈥�
The public and repeatable testing of hypotheses distinguishes science as the most successful form of inquiry ever. Among other things it shows that it is officially not in the business of accepting anything 鈥渨ithout question, without examining the grounds鈥�. Davies and others who describe science as 鈥渦ltimately resting on faith鈥� are thus not only wrong but do much irresponsible harm to it thereby.