Cosmos Episode 3: Dr. Tyson's Knowledge Fails to Conquer His Fear

Episode 3 of Cosmos, like previous ones, is rife with sarcasm—most directed toward religious views of course. This iteration is filled with the usual presuppositions about God: how a cosmic designer should have created the universe, and how its constituents would appear if the universe were designed. Neil implies that if a divine being existed, He would have made the universe by doing thus and such; and, because we don’t observe that—whatever that is—we should not infer design when looking at the universe. God should have utilized dissimilar components, instead of making use of the same basic building blocks over and over; things like quarks, atoms, DNA, etc. I suppose Tyson’s would have the deigner thrown away the mold each time he made a novel creature; the modern equivalent to an automaker's reinventing the wheel with each new model.

Dr. Tyson’s insinuation—it turns out to be a major strawman—goes something like this: God would have made the universe just large enough for man to exist in. We would not observe this enormous, incredibly wasteful, and potentially infinite universe, replete with uninhabitable planets in a realm of ever-expanding dimensions. In other words, if a hypothetical creator acted differently than Tyson thinks he should have, it follows—at least for Dr. Tyson—God does not exist. This very odd conclusion is doubly strange in light of the fact that theologians—Christians in particular—have always posited an immense God, unbounded by space and time, who transcends the very universe he created. The God of traditional theism is really, really, big! Why this inestimably powerful designer should have chosen to create a miniscule universe—one in which every facet is readily discovered and easily quantified--as Tyson seems to suggest, is beyond me. This characterization seems antithetical to the very notion of God.

Nearly seven minutes into the third episode, and after several peculiar statements like the following, Neil ultimately begins his speech on some positive aspects of scientific inquiry. “During the 40 thousand generations of humanity…the best we could do was look up in helpless wonder; prisoners of earth with nowhere to turn…beyond our guilt and our fears.” Until…a permanent revolution in human thought…Newton and Halley…their collaboration…ultimately set us free from our long confinement of this tiny world.” Of course, this oversimplification has nothing to say of the continued wonder with which most of us still view the universe and all its marvelous sights, like the comets of which he speaks. It's as if Neil thinks we should be able to constrain these fiery beasts, simply by virtue of knowing what materials they consist of. Knowledge may indeed conquer fear; it may not, however, conquer the implacable physical laws of our universe. 

According to Dr. Tyson, creatures evolved over eons of time, and over innumerable generations, to recognize patterns. Sometimes their pattern recognition goes too far, causing them to see designs where none exist. We see patterns in the sky, and at the cellular level, as well as in the rainbow, on the zebra, and on the butterfly. We indeed create in our mind patterning that isn't really there. Sometimes, Dr. Tyson continues, we erroneously visualize pools of water in the desert, or the Virgin Mary in a soufflé. This ability—or disability in these cases—caused our predecessors, looking up at the stars, to find shapes, and figures, and eventually, gods. Science is able to describe exactly what causes these appearances—both real and invalid—and, it provides a rational basis for why people generally see them. Therefore, designs—and hence gods—in the universe are illusory, not real. Neither we nor the universe are designed. Neil's conclusion is rather simplistic; and, it is based on fallacious reasoning.

Just before the three minute mark—in true Dawkins like fashion—Neil  further elucidates his suggestion that religious peoples were (and are) foolish to believe in what he deems superstitions. What he doesn't seem to grasp, however, is that his methodology invalidates all erroneous thinking, not just religious points of view; and, that means the thinking of Charles Darwin (and others) who thought the fossil record would vindicate his theory; that soon the record would prove replete with transitional species.  Neil also fails to account for the fact that he, too, is necessarily ignorant, when compared to future generations, who will likely have programs of their own undoubtedly depicting our generation's errors. The professor should understand that his basis does not at all cast doubt on religious beliefs, any more than it renders dubious current scientific theories. Neil’s reasoning here provides us with a classic example of what philosophers call "the genetic fallacy."

Not quite four minutes into the program, and Dr. Tyson’s ship of the imagination lurches into hyper drive as he elucidates thus: “Every ancient human culture made the same mistake. A comet must be a message sent by the gods or one particular god…ancestors concluded that the news was not good.” No matter the culture within which one is raised, “We’re all too eager to deceive ourselves…” according to the professor. Of course it is quite easy to look at past cultures and criticize their beliefs from the present. This does not mean, however, that all their beliefs were false, or that scientific ideas were better. Truth is we apprehend knowledge of most subjects gradually and incrementally; and, no single discipline—whether science, or philosophy, or theism—has all the answers. What if we have yet a long, long, way to go in our understanding of the cosmos? What if the next generation of cosmologists tells us that our current modes of inquiry are completely wrongheaded? Or, that our best theories are nonsense? Such is the nature of acquiring knowledge in any field of inquiry.

Suppose I can tell you exactly how a diamond is formed, or how a Ferrari is built, or the precise relevant parameters involved during a Super Bowl winning touchdown pass and catch? Are any of these depreciated because I can elucidate them? Of course not. Knowledge about the particulars of a phenomenon is simply irrelevant to whether or not it is designed, or whether it is the product of intelligence. Think of a robotic arm in an automobile factory, or a conveyor belt used to transfer parts. Even these seemingly mundane transporters—we can easily understand them—are designed for a particular purpose. They truly are the products of intelligence. Though the conveyor mobilizes parts in a seemingly innocuous fashion, it is finely crafted with specific (production) goals in mind. Perhaps, DNA and RNA are of this sort—not that these are simple mechanisms.

Dr. Tyson’s charge that ignorant people once thought gods directly and continuously engaged heavenly bodies—moving stars, comets, and planets about—and, his subsequent declaration that we have discarded these false impressions because of scientific incursions, carries no weight. The fact that we know more about the universe in no way implies God’s nonexistence. I would say that the assertion is indeed a non sequitur? We could find numerous examples in science of similar gaffes, to which we could appeal, in order to invalidate the scientific method on the same grounds. If this is the measure by which to judge the veracity of a methodology, Dr. Tyson undercuts his own warrant for trusting the scientific method, so called. To give an example, the prevailing view of scientists—and of most everyone else—before Redi and Pastuer was that spontaneous generation was natural and occurred with regularity. Flies, it was thought, miraculously appeared on rotting meat after it had been stored in containers. Of course it was later discovered that flies lay tiny, nearly microscopic, eggs that hatch and produce more flies. Would anyone consider abandoning the scientific method because we now have a better explanation of this phenomenon?

Finally, at the 29:00 mark, Neil doesn't disappoint with this dubious doozy, “His law swept away the need for a master clock-maker, to explain the beauty and precision of the solar system.” Huh? What did he say? This strikingly odd proclamation—one that has absolutely zero relevance to the question of whether or not the “clock” was designed—leaves us with somewhat of a mystery as to the point the professor is making. Even if we could discover every law (so called) of nature, the laws themselves could yet require a designer. This is exactly the line of reasoning most theists use today, in fact; just as they did in Newton’s time. So, it is just false that we need jettison every vestige of belief in a Designer to better understand the intricacies of the universe. This is quite evident when one considers the fact that science—big bang cosmogony in particular—is quite confirmatory of theism. By the way, Dr. Tyson employs a similar line of reasoning to ameliorate theistic implications of perceived fine tuning, elsewhere.

Neither clock, nor bicycle, nor anything else, ceases to be designed merely because we can describe any, or even all, of its components. According to Dr. Tyson, “Gravity is the clockmaker.” Yes, in the same way internal combustion is the mechanism for acceleration in a Ferrari. Of course, this tells us nothing of the origin of the exotic masterpiece. In reality, gravity is a single constituent—one that presupposes relationships at that—of the grand machine we call our universe. Describing a law does not bring it into existence, by the way. Dr. Tyson seems to be arguing, here, that because I understand how a Ferrari’s engine develops horsepower, it is, therefore, not designed. Come on Neil. You can do better than this.

“Matter obeyed commandments we can discover; laws the Bible hadn't mentioned.” Perhaps Seth McFarland is doing the script-writing for this module; but, someone needs a new editor. In case you are wondering, there are many things the Bible doesn't mention. The Bible, for certain, speaks nothing of House Resolution 499 (On marijuana usage). If the Good Book were held to Neil’s queer standard—to explicate the laws of gravity etc.—it would still be under construction. Perhaps the kind Dr. should expound a bit on what should and should not be included in the Bible. For now, I’ll leave with you this exoneration from St. John’s gospel, chapter 21, verse 25: “And there are also many other things that Jesus did, which if they were written one by one, I suppose...even the world itself could not contain the books that would be written. Amen.” 

Cosmos Episode 2: More Simplistic Assertions

Natural selection tends toward stasis, over thousands and even millions of years. This is a well know fact among paleontologists. For Neil Tyson to extrapolate the idea that pressures educed by selective breeding, which produced remarkable changes in the species canine, to the conclusion that similar forces were necessarily employed and maintained on natural selection, barely takes into account the obvious: the primary catalyst for these grand evolutionary achievements is nothing less than intelligence, in the form of volitional agents. The fact that humans altered the appearance of a single species, in very rapid fashion, tells us little about what may or may not have taken place naturally. We can, however, examine quite a revealing snapshot of this pre-history in the fossil record. What story does it tell?

To the point, Dr. Tyson completely glosses over the fact that the primary mechanism of evolution—human selective breeding in this case—elicited more changes in Canis lupus, over a relatively brief period, than did natural selection in all of human pre-history. This, in fact, is exactly what makes his chosen example so remarkable. Like most species, the wolf remained quite static in appearance, throughout its pre-human history, and it continues to do so even today. The fossil record evinces precisely this conclusion: a striking longevity of individual species, perhaps followed by rapid speciation is quite ordinary. The primary question therefore remains: Could natural selection manufacture the same variability in canines as Artificial—intelligent—Selection has proven to achieve, given enough time? It is difficult to say for certain; but, the answer, for now, seems to be, no.

Certainly, selective pressures, so called, were involved—even paramount I suppose—in order for evolutionary change to naturally occur; nevertheless, the process of descent with modification, driven by natural selection, winnowing random genetic mutation—as Alvin Plantinga explains—has never been demonstrably shown to produce the kind of dramatic morphological changes seen in Dr. Tyson’s example of canine breeding. To anyone but the most ardent Darwinian apologist, it is apparent that Neil simply misuses the data to bolster his rather tenuous assertions regarding Natural Selection. On my view—and that of many other theists—descent with modification and natural selection are relatively uncontroversial—it is the assumption that random, unguided, genetic modifications have produced all the diversity we see, rather, that is in question.

  

Compare the more conspicuous agent elicited changes that, from the wolf, produced a St. Bernard, a Pit Bull, and a Chihuahua, with the rather modest evolutionary changes in Neil’s second illustration pertaining to bear fur color variability. Dr. Tyson utilizes the former to make his point; then moves seamlessly to the more modest exemplar to show how the “awesome power of natural selection” operates of its own accord. Though somewhat analogous, this trivial representation of evolution concerning darker bears (struggling to survive in snowy environs) giving way to lighter colored bears, pales in comparison—both literally and figuratively—to the former illustration of evolution by way of artificial selection. And what’s more, Dr. Tyson’s first example, the dog, is still, for all practical purposes—even after numerous impressive changes like those presented in this episode—the same species as the gray wolf. In spite of its diminutive appearance, a Chihuahua my yet be paired with a wolf to produce offspring. These striking morphological changes have not caused a new species to arise. Does selection have the power to do so? Perhaps, and perhaps not.

 

Who can blame Dr. Tyson here, for overplaying his hand and appealing to the sensational? After all, there are few, if any, comparable instances of evolution, so called, in the history of vertebrates. Try as we may, no one has ever found the requisite missing links in the fossilized record that Darwinian style gradualism must have generated, and that aplenty. The fossil record, as duly noted by renowned paleontologists (the late) Stephen Gould and Niles Eldridge, implies that thousands, and sometimes millions of years of stasis (followed by rapid speciation) are the norm throughout our pre-history. Gould remarks, “Most species exhibit no directional change during their tenure on earth. They appear in the fossil record looking much the same as when they disappear; morphological change is usually limited and directionless.” Hardly the gradual, methodical, innumerable, change taking place over countless intermediary species, predicted by Darwin. This fact is still quite the persistent source of embarrassment for neo-Darwinians, as it was for Darwin himself.

@ 14:00 and following, what we see—and this has been discussed at length—is that proponents of Darwinian gradualism, like Dr. Tyson, point to examples of fur color selection—white will give northern bears a stealth advantage, brown favors the southern bear—as evidence for the profound mechanism of change that brought bears into existence in the first place, and indeed, shaped all of nature’s variety. The fact that lighter bears produced lighter offspring, because of some heritable trait, constitutes the type of “momentous transformation” often heralded, by Darwinists, as irrefutable evidence in support of the notion that your not so distant progenitor was Poison Ivy, or perhaps, a dandelion. Couple this pre-supposition with the notion that all life, and indeed the universe itself, arose spontaneously from nothing, and you have yourself quite a narrative; one that the writers of Genesis—if they were alive today—would be quite envious of.

@7:52 Neil proclaims, “In a blink of cosmic time, just 15 or 20 thousand years, we turned gray wolves into all the kinds of dogs… Think about it, every breed of dog you've ever seen was sculpted by human hands.” Now that you've mentioned it Dr. Tyson, this is a fascinating example, which stands in stark contrast to the directionless efforts of natural selection we infer from the fossil record. NS is not only glacially slow, by comparison, but also relatively impotent. NS was only able to elicit trivial changes in wolf populations during tens of thousands of years of human pre-history. This evidence suggests that without intelligent intervention we would have, at best, only a few examples of naturally motivated evolutionary changes in Canis lupus. This hardly constitutes a triumph for Darwinian evolution.

The climax of this evolutionary theme is reached @ 9:50 of the program, where Neil—not unlike Buzz Light-year—invites us to explore “…the microcosms, where one kind of life can be transformed into another!” On cue, he guides us from the microscopic confines of a bear’s reproductive organs to the external macroscopic level, where the “dramatic” evolutionary transformation is evident: random genetic change, according to Tyson, has afforded bears with lighter fur—which enhances stealth in arctic environs—the means by which to thrive and to reproduce. These seemingly trivial changes in fur color presumably constitute an evolutionary triumph—or so the story goes. Ardent Darwinists, like Professor Tyson, inform us that when the less fit darker bears die off—or migrate south—the result is a population advantage for white bears over brown; and, subsequently, as the two groups of bears become geographically and (perhaps) genetically isolated, the one species will—and has—become two.

Truth is, Kodiak bears and Polar bears—once thought to be wholly separate species—have recently been discovered to have produced fertile hybrid offspring; the two can and apparently do interbreed. The species distinction seems to be an arbitrary one in this case, at least. So when Tyson and other naturalists deride "creationists" for believing that God created all these "thousands of species separately," he would do well to remember the subjectivity of these naming conventions. If this type of relational behavior continues with regularity—perhaps because of climate change or some other phenomenon—then a sort of devolution will take place: the populations will merge once again. Of course presenting evidence of this nature would perhaps cast doubt on the strength of the presumed "fact" of evolution; consequently, it is unlikely to be featured on programs like Cosmos. If pigmentary modifications are an evolutionary triumph, then I suppose the merging of bear populations would constitute a resounding defeat for Darwinian naturalists. I digress. In the end, methodical naturalism may indeed prove to be capable of producing all the known species of animals we know. Fur color changes don't hardly provide definitive evidence for that proposition.

The link from the present state, to where bears originate, is not even up for questioning. On Dr. Tyson’s view, these kinds of minor changes, within isolated populations, extrapolated over eons of time will engender profound transformations in creatures of all kinds, much like those imposed by humans on canus lupus. For even the casual onlooker, it is quite easy to see we are not talking here about the kind of change necessary to produce bears or lions or elephants in the first place. The sheer magnitude of small modifications necessary to produce a man from a mollusk is not only different in degree, but—it seems to me—a wholly different kind of alteration problem. @15:20 the good professor reminds us that, “Mutations are entirely random, and happen all the time.” They had better, because time is surely of the essence when hoping to manufacture an aborigine from an amoeba.

There are a number of other issues, I have, with the second rendition of the Cosmos series: not the least of which is the fact that Tyson sets up and knocks down quite a few strawmen in the episode. Probably, the most prominent of these is discussed around the 21:30 mark of the 2^nd episode. Here, Neil states, erroneously “…the prevailing belief was that…an intelligent designer, who created each of…millions of species…separately... ” Notice how Dr. Tyson takes the opportunity to unnecessarily goad ID proponents in that statement?  Aside from the obvious fact that no one—perhaps a few—has ever believed that God created species in such a static and immutable fashion that they would remain identical to their parents. This simplistic idea would be discredited within a generation or two of observation. Thinly veiled insults, like those employed here, aren't likely to increase our understanding of the subject. Moreover, the statement drips of Irony, considering the fact that Tyson’s chosen example—selective breeding—entails intelligent designers.

In his following statement, Dr. Neil Degrasse Tyson addresses another contention, that many believed “the designs were too intricate…to be the result of unguided evolution…” Interestingly enough, Neil’s construal here has some merit. It is still the case today, that some indeed believe designs, like the eye, and wing, are too intricate to be the result of time, plus matter, plus chance. And that the oversimplified version of eye evolution depicted in this episode elides over many pertinent details; it is almost laughable. This is why it is suggested by Discovery Institute, and others, that information based models be considered, in addition to the purely mechanistic, materialistic, view of Darwinian evolution. I am a firm believer that these models, which see information—like that in DNA and RNA—as paramount, will eventually replace the prevailing and, I think, outmoded views of the Darwinian evolutionary paradigm. There is much more to say on this topic and on episode 2 for sure; suffice it to say, however, that the rest of the program is dedicated to the idea that life arises easily and frequently, and that the universe is replete with other kinds of life. Needless to say, this is quite a leap of faith, based on even more unfalsifiable assumptions like those found in episode 1.

Cosmos Episode 1 and its Underlying Assumptions

Question Everything?

Neil Degrasse Tyson, near the two minute mark of the first episode in the revitalized series, Cosmos, blithely admonishes viewers to question everything. Of course, questioning everything isn't really what the good professor and astrophysicist has in mind. What Tyson really means to say is, I think, question religion; not the scientific method. Though—I agree with him on this point—we shouldn't take everything we are taught as gospel, necessarily, there is an inherent danger in subjecting every aspect of reality to rigorous experimentation like that found in the physical sciences. Especially when science cannot even in principle explain these things.

Let’s, for the moment, turn the tables on this somewhat ironic imperative given us by the current Hayden Planetarium Director. What exactly are we supposed to question; and, what is off limits to questioning? At the 32:00 mark of Cosmos, Episode 1, Dr. Tyson, tells us that we don’t know where life came from; but, for all we know, it began in some far away galaxy, and was delivered to earth by some intelligence—a tip to Directed Panspermia. Where life originated, in Neil’s case, is a philosophical issue that appears to be off limits to questioning, for now. If we ponder long enough about life’s ultimate origin, we realize that this question is not really a scientific one anyway; not in the sense Tyson wants us to believe. Nevertheless, we dare not introduce some Creator hypothesis, lest we be accused of God of the gaps reasoning.

Think about this admission in light of the confidence and fervor with which Tyson and other scientists—not to mention laypersons—promote their naturalistic agenda, while ridiculing anyone who dares to make mention of God, or even hints that life may have originated via intelligent design. It is especially ironic, considering the fact that Directed Panspermia—Neil’s ostensible starting point—would entail some sort of intelligent deliverer, if not intelligent designer. That Dr. Tyson’s position is based on his tremendous faith in numerous underlying assumptions seems to get lost in the shuffle; quite a surprise considering the degree of conviction he has toward them would make the average Sunday churchgoer marvel in humiliation.

Later, around 15:00 of the episode, Tyson appeals to the idea of a multi-verse, or meta-verse, suggesting that humans are accidental byproducts of the cosmos. Shortly afterwards, he tells us—paradoxically—to rejoice over the fact that we are highly insignificant. Now before I critique the many worlds hypothesis in its various forms, I will tell you that I believe a multi-verse will eventually be discovered—or rather demonstrated. Even so, such a finding would hardly affect my theistic approach, except to perhaps further reinforce the awe and wonder with which I view the Creator’s glory and might. Why wouldn't it? After all, isn't a God who creates many worlds exhibiting far greater power than one who only creates a single universe?

The multi-verse, and just about anything else for that matter, can be demonstrated mathematically. It is in fact conceivable that God—or at least some characterization of Him—could be demonstrated in this fashion. Mathematical calculations, however, merely describe incidents or entities; they don’t bring these phenomena into existence. Numbers, because they have no causal connection to real events within or without calculations, are said to be causally effete. Therefore, any multi-verse hypothesis is reducible to a mathematical construct of metaphysical assumptions; one that is on par with the idea of Creator of the universe.

If the mathematics of a particular hypothesis are instantiated it is an incidental correlation to reality. Neither the formula nor calculation actualizes that reality. On the contrary, the description will either represent something that has ontological status; or, it will represent a concept. A concept, however, cannot be reified by the accompanying mathematical description. As such the multi-verse, or meta-verse, to which Tyson is referring, is, in principle, undetectable, un-measureable, un-falsifiable. These facts place the hypotheses outside the purview of the scientific method (so called), alongside the God hypothesis. Multi-verses are therefore subject to the same criticisms levied by scientists toward the latter.

Obviously, a “many worlds” hypothesis carries with it a great number of philosophical implications—more so for the physicist than for the theist. The theist can continue merrily on his way, upon considering whether or not an all-powerful God decided to create multiple universes, or a single space-time continuum. Cosmologists, like Neil Degrasse Tyson, however, depend on the multi-verse hypothesis, not only to counter fine-tuning arguments, but to avert theistic implications of an absolute beginning of the universe at t = 0: The Big Bang.

In summary, it is quite clear that cosmologists—and indeed all scientists—rely on underlying, and sometimes un-falsifiable assumptions, just as they accuse theists of doing. I would like, also, to point out the fact that although Dr. Tyson calls himself an agnostic, he tends to be rather dismissive of theistic arguments, generally exhibiting a derisive tone. My purpose here is not an indictment of the good physicist’s character; but, I must point out the obvious: Tyson needn't impugn theists in order to promote his stance on the scientific method. Thinking Christians are, in fact, some of science's greatest advocates. When Neil admonishes theists as know-it-alls, his tenor, ironically, exemplifies the very thing he rails against: arrogance. So, on subject of his integrity, I’ll employ the aforementioned advice, and question it.