“A good theory generates many testable hypotheses. A really good theory passes at least some of these tests.” -David Sloan Wilson (1)
Is it science?
The previous chapters of this book could be called exercises in evolutionary psychology. I have attempted to describe how human instincts acquired in our primate past could play a role in the more recent and even current tendency for people to believe in a god. I have referred to this as “my thesis.” I don’t know if I’d call it a “theory,” for I am well aware there is more to religion than explained by my conjectures. What I do believe is that our primate heritage plays an essential role in the forms of religion we observe.
Many critics view evolutionary psychology in general as not-quite-science. And they have a point. Much of the endeavor consists of making ad-hoc explanations that generate no testable/falsifiable hypotheses. Indeed, how could a person go back in time to alter the course of events and then determine if things would be different now? Equally implausible is de-activating specific “primitive” genes to determine how they influence present behavior.
Is evolutionary psychology not a science? The answer depends upon how you define science. Years ago I formulated and presented this brief synopsis to the students taking my psychology courses.
SCIENCE IN A NUTSHELL
What is Science? My own evolving understanding of it has led me to formulate this definition:
Science is (1) the collection and analysis of data*
(2) in order to test hypotheses** and replicate previous findings
(3) and to evaluate old theories*** as well as form new ones.[Notes: *information that is in the least potentially measurable,
**a hypothesis is a proposed relationship between variables
(objects/events),
***a theory is a set of statements (a conceptual framework) that (a) explain the processes/mechanisms behind the workings of some aspect of the universe, and (b) allows for testable predictions]“Doing science” can mean any or all of #1-3. A, quote, “real scientist” may specialize in one of the three elements, but will certainly acknowledge and respect the other two. Also, the “real” or formal scientist subjects her work to peer review and practices clarity and transparency in their work.(2)
So does the evolutionary psychologist do real science? My short answer: if he or she collects and analyzes data to do any of the following: replicate a finding, test a hypothesis, evaluate a preexisting theory or inform the development of a new one.
Rather than thinking and speaking of an intellectual endeavor qualifying as real science or fake, I prefer to think in terms of strength. While some fields are practices could be called strongly scientific, others might be categorized as weakly scientific. In my view, the strength designation relies largely upon the quality and quantity of the data used, as well as on the reasonableness of the claims made relative to that data.
The field of psychology in general is a bit weak–at a bit of a scientific disadvantage–for a couple reasons. First, human behavior, thought, and emotion are complex and difficult to isolate and measure. Variables are too often clustered and inseparable, measures must be made indirectly because there are serious ethical limitations to what kind of experiments can be performed on humans. Second, the field is more personal and thus bias-prone. Psychology is more personal than, say, chemistry, because we are what we study. Any worldview we hold can be threatened and supported by data we choose to accept or deny. No scientist is completely free of bias. As Robin Wright has written, “Like a lawyer, the human brain wants victory, not truth.”(3)
In other words, we value being right more than we appreciate learning we have been mistaken. The primary psychological mechanism by which we wrongly convince ourselves we are right is known as the confirmation bias. Briefly, this consists of the human tendency to notice and acknowledge information that supports their belief while ignoring and/or neglecting information that disconfirms it. What can be done to counter-act this pervasive and pernicious intellectual habit? I can think of two things. Both rely on practicing skepticism and intellectual diligence.
First, the practice of personal skepticism and intellectual diligence. Skepticism is far too often applied to the ideas of other people. But it must start at home. The popular saying of my youth goes, “Question Authority.” Because are own feelings and beliefs are the most salient influences in our own lives, the questioning should start there. In terms of intellectual diligence, we must follow in the footsteps of Charles Darwin. In his autobiography, Darwin shared a “golden rule” of his intellectual habits. He jotted down any and all bits of information—particularly observations—that clashed with and thus challenged his way of thinking. He wrote,
“I had found by experience that such facts and thoughts were far more apt to escape from memory than favourable ones.”(4)
When I learned that about Darwin, my admiration for him grew even more.
The second way we can combat personal bias and error involves relying on the skepticism and intellectual diligence of others. In fact, this is an essential element of the scientific process. Call it peer review. Ideas are put “out there” for evaluation and possible correction. This practice definitely requires thick skin, but it is crucial to learning. Although the response can feel insulting and can challenge our perhaps beloved conclusions, it is actually a win-win scenario. At least intellectually. We can happily discover that other minds see how our ideas make sense and are supported by the evidence. In a sense, this is a test by minds rather than by experiment. To pass a test is a good thing. We may also less-happily discover that other minds don’t see how our ideas make sense and/or determine that the evidence we use is insufficiently supports our position. Which is also a good thing, albeit a good thing belonging in the category of “tough love” or “sour medicine.”
Of course, self-skepticism and peer feedback should be involved at multiple stages in the scientific process. And yet, we can’t allow the skeptical attitude and public criticism cripple us. For scientific advance begins with a creative act. On the leading edge of what we know, and sometimes far beyond, hypotheses and theories must be developed. For the good of science, which advances by not confirmation and success alone. Rather, near-blind stumbling, dead-ends, and outright mistakes play an important role. Science advances thanks to both advancing the valid as well as subtracting the invalid. Without the generation of new ideas at the risk of being wrong, there is no advance.
Certainly, other steps can be made to move an intellectual endeavor from a state or para- or pre-science to something more strongly scientific. While measurement and data accumulations is essential, so too is language use. In the very least, how we define our variables—the words we use—helps others to better understand what we are talking about. It also allows us to refine and isolate the factors involved in the phenomenon we seek to understand.
Sometimes defining terms can be difficult. Loose or undefined terms will “let in” more observations and hence evidence. Even poor evidence, even irrelevant evidence. Using poorly defined terms can be like trawling with wide nets. Yes, you may catch more tuna, but you will also catch assorted other fish and perhaps a dolphin or two. And just because you caught these others with your “tuna” net, that doesn’t mean they are truly tuna.
In his book, In God’s We Trust: The Evolutionary Landscape of Religion, Scott Atran adroitly noted, “Because there is no such entity as ‘religion,’ it makes no sense to ask how ‘it’ evolved.”(5)
What? No such entity as religion? Well, yes and no. As a general term, sure there clusters of activities and artifacts we speak of as belonging to the category of ‘religion.’ But a catch-all term like that is something like a taxonomical designation. There is no such entity as primates, rather, there are species we place within that category.
So can we not study religion and how it evolved? I think we can. But we have to be clear what we mean by the word. We may have to break it down into key, constituent elements, and focus on those.
As for my own definition of “religion,” I agree with the wording Daniel Dennett gave it in his, Breaking the Spell: Religion as a Natural Phenomenon:
“Tentatively, I propose to define religions as social systems whose participants avow belief in a supernatural agent or agents whose approval is to be sought.”(6)
No, a person doesn’t practice religion in isolation. In ultra-independent America, individuals will often claim they aren’t religious, but spiritual. This usually means they entertain religious-like ideas and perhaps engage in behaviors borrowed from one religion or another, but they don’t go to church. (Because then you aren’t acting as a free, autonomous individual. And Americans value freedom.) But in my book, you can’t have religion without the involvement of others, in person or in mind. Crucially, at least one of those others must be a supernatural agent. Where I differ from Dennett’s wording is the “whose approval is to be sought” element. Human social relations, after all, include varieties not dependent upon approval. Some Calvinists, for example, believe that their god’s approval cannot be sought. You are either saved or you aren’t. For my own definition, there must instead be a perceived relationship between the believer and the supernatural agent. For something to qualify as a religion, at minimum, the relationship between a believer and their god must be of a creator/greater (father-ish figure), with that of the lesser/offspring.
Because my definition of religion relies upon social behaviors—outward actions, feeling states, beliefs—it is possible to scientifically inquire as to what type and what degree these exist among contemporary believers. And to then look for antecedents of these behaviors in closely related primates.
Does belief in a god rely upon a human being extended his/her social instincts into the realm of the imagined? I think so. I also believe that we can find the roots of this “relating to the imagined” in the behavior on non-human primates. Can these belief be tested? If they can’t, at least indirectly, how could a person reasonable consider them scientifically valid?
They couldn’t. But maybe there are tests that, having generated positive results, could support my thesis. When put to the test, would the results support the notion that human belief in gods depends upon the social instincts of a primate?
Doing science is more than lab work. In fact, it starts with acts of creativity, with visualizing how observations fit together. But science mustn’t stop after this initial step. It must go further.
—
(1) Wilson, D.S. Darwin’s Cathedral: Evolution, Religion, and the Nature of Society, University of Chicago, Chicago, 2002, p.80
(2) http://evolvingmind.info/blog/science-in-a-nutshell/
(3) Wright, R., The Moral Animal: Evolutionary Psychology and Everyday Life, Vintage, NY, 1995, p. 280
(4) Wright, R., 1995, p. 280
(5) Atran, S., In God’s We Trust: The Evolutionary Landscape of Religion, Oxford University Press,Oxford, 2002, p. 15
(6) Dennett, D., Breaking the Spell: Religion as a Natural Phenomenon, Viking, New York, 2006, p. 9