D. Brian Austin. The End of Certainty and the Beginning
of Faith: Religion and Science for the 21st Century. Macon, Georgia: Smyth and Helwys Publishing,
Incorporated, 2000.
A common assumption of contemporary western culture is that science
and religion are antagonists, and that while science is an objective
source of knowledge whose content is verifiable and certain, religion
is merely a subjective endeavor whose tenets are inescapably speculative,
uncertain, and thus of questionable value.
In his text, The End of Certainty and the Beginning
of Faith, D. Brian Austin of Carson-Newman College seeks to
dispel this strong dichotomy between science and religion.
Austin is convinced that a clear shift has occurred in
the epistemology of science away from a smug assurance that our
concepts fully (even adequately) convey the nature of the physical
universe toward a more humble assessment of the human capacity
to understand the world. Drawing
from the insights of Bergson, Nietzsche, Whitehead, and Peirce,
Austin argues that human concepts are always interpretations--ever
imprecise, ever incomplete (19-34).
Further, there is mounting evidence that a genuine randomness
persists at all levels of the physical universe--from subatomic
(quantum) occurrences, to the emergence of unpredictable structural
patterns in systems that are far-from-equilibrium, to the immense
diversity of biological organisms, to the incredibly complex electro-chemical
nexus that constitutes the human nervous system. Randomness is real (37-56). In light of the limited (perspectival) nature of human understanding
and the genuine randomness of the physical universe, an epistemologically
and metaphysically (or at least physically) grounded uncertainty
pervades all human knowledge, including the enterprise of natural
science. Our knowledge
is always imprecise and our world is ever-changing, unpredictable,
open to creative novelty. Subsequently,
our beliefs are never certain.
These claims are reinforced by Austin’s
endorsement of the notion that human life and conceptualizations
are inescapably future-oriented. Drawing on existentialist and pragmatist themes
(particularly the insights of Charles Peirce), Austin declares
that the human self largely is
defined by its future-oriented projects and that the meaning
of our concepts greatly is defined in terms of how such ideas
potentially impact our future actions, in terms of the practical
(and future) consequences that such concepts entail.
In light of the future-orientation of human selfhood and
concepts, and in the face of the genuine randomness, unpredictability,
and openness of the universe, all human endeavors, including science,
are laden with uncertainty and risk. Indeed, the risk involved in attempting to
conceptualize and confirm scientific claims is, at an elementary
level, the same as the risk involved in personal and religious
commitments (59-74). Clearly, then, an affinity surfaces between
religion and science, one deriving from the inset limitations
of the human condition and from the wondrous openness of reality
as a whole. Each discipline seeks truth and must exercise
faith and risk in obtaining it.
Austin
attempts to avoid both relativism and dogmatism by appealing to
the Peircean concept of a future-looking realism.
In Austin’s words, for Peirce, “[t]he truth about any matter
is the beliefs that would be held by the committed inquirers when
all the trials are done, when all of the experiments have been
run (167).” Thus, “[t]ruth
never escapes sign-existence; it resides, even in the end, as
signs in the minds of the community of inquirers (167-168).” This means that there is truth, that our concepts
move us toward truth, but this truth resides somewhere between
the quagmire of subjectivism and the mountainous facade of dogmatism. Austin calls for epistemological humility,
both on the part of science and religion.
He is intolerant toward both naturalistic and religious
dogmatists who pontificate their positions as if they possessed
a God’s-eye-view of The Truth. Austin writes concerning those engaged in the
naturalistic evolution-creationist debates:
Both
camps share an enormous confidence that their words are accurately,
even literally, descriptive of some reality beyond their own minds
and that their beliefs are somehow immune to the limitations of
linguistic expression . . . .
Their extreme confidence that their words and equations
literally and comprehensively convey fixed truths about the universe,
born more of a deadly blend of wishful thinking and fear of the
fuzzy than of a careful analysis of the ways that words and other
symbols actually refer to their objects, is a lasting legacy of
modernity’s Cartesian dreams of certainty (124-125).
For Austin, we
are best off simply to admit the limits of our knowledge and to
be open to the inherent riskiness of all human knowledge and activity.
On the other hand, we may exercise the hope that we can
and do move toward the truth in our scientific and religious inquiries.
While
Austin wishes to avoid an extended excursus on Christian doctrine
(vii), hints of how he envisions a potential dialog between science
and religion (particularly Christianity) prowl throughout his
writing. For example, his emphasis on the authentic
randomness and openness of natural events suggest to him a risky,
dynamic, and creative divine providence.
The human species per se need not have been the divinely
intended culmination of the created order.
Instead, “[i]t is clearly conceivable that a Creator might
wish to create a universe where a prodigious variety of highly
complex, self-aware (and thus nonlinear), growing, learning, entities
might emerge . . . . There
is no need for them to have looked just like us (126).” Or another example: The growing research in brain physiology more
and more is making traditional affirmations of mind-body dualism
untenable. In its place,
Austin affirms an emergent view of the human self.
Humans are more than the matter of which we are constituted,
but “not because there is some separate added piece, a soul or
essence, but due to the manner of organization of . . .” our material
parts (146).
Austin’s
work is a splendid read, informative, thought-provoking, and lyrical. As with any text of limited pages and restricted
focus, weaknesses may be found.
For example, one might wish for a fuller description of
the implications of his epistemology for the integration of scientific
and religious insights–a shortcoming perhaps readily overcome
by a second volume by Austin. Further, and a related matter: the precise
nature and role of divine revelation could use some fleshing out. Austin suggests that truth, including religious
truth, is ultimately a function of the ever-future-oriented community
of inquirers, and that while The Truth may never fully be procured,
we (as religious inquiries) may well be moving toward verisimilitude. Left unexplained is the precise role to be
played by Christian scripture and tradition in this on-going emergence
of and grasping for religious truth.
Reviewer:
Michael Robinson,
Associate Professor of Philosophy,
Cumberland College, Williamsburg,
Kentucky. Dr. Robinson is the author of Eternity and
Freedom (University Press of America, 1995).
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