Very early in the COVID pandemic, a group of doctors assembles on the steps of the Supreme Court of the United States.
Calling themselves “America’s Frontline Doctors”, the group found their fifteen minutes of pandemic fame.
All have the title of “Doctor”.
All are wearing the symbol of medical respect – a starched white coat.
And where are they standing? On the steps of the ultimate symbol of authority in our nation.
None in the group were epidemiologists, infectious disease doctors, or researchers.
With evangelistic fervor, the group touted COVID advice ranging from unsubstantiated cures to quack conspiracies.
The group spoke with the trappings of authority, but not with expertise.
The United States government manages trillions of dollars earmarked for scientific research. Historically, panels of content-area science experts decided which research proposals to fund.
In an unprecedented move, the White House now seeks to remove experts from the panels and replace them with political appointees.
Russell Voight, chairman of the OMB (and architect of Project 2025), justifies the move because he wants to rid us all of “woke”.
Instead of grants being decided by vigorous peer review, political appointees will make political decisions based on … politics.
“Having grants pass a political litmus test will destroy science,” says Nobel laureate Martin Chalfie.
In less than two years, American science has been decimated. Research defunded. Career scientists leaving. Newly minted researchers moving to other countries.
And now this: a move to replace science experts with political appointees.
Brutal. Bloody. Evolution is an everyman for himself life or death struggle for survival, right?
Lynn Margulis disagreed.
Margulis was a biologist in the 1960s, and her ideas about the evolution of cells upended the prevailing science of the day.
Margulis’ landmark research paper was rejected fifteen times before it was published. She was dismissed as “just a divorced mother with radical ideas.”
Decades later, Margulis’ “endosymbiotic theory” about the evolutionary origin of complex cells has been established over and over again by evidence.
If you’ve ever made a model of a cell out of playdough or whatever you could find at home at 10:00 pm the night before it was due (or parented over such a construction), you are familiar with the mitochondria, the “powerhouse of the cell”.
Margulis noted that mitochondria have their very own tiny looped chromosome, just like simple bacteria. She observed that mitochondria are structured like bacteria and divide like bacteria.
What if, hypothesized Margulis, complex cells didn’t arise from a bloody battle for the win?
What if, she said, complex life arose via cooperation? What if teamwork was key to the evolution of complex cells, and thus a myriad of complex life forms?
Endosymbiotic theory explains how tiny, simple cells took up residence inside larger cells. The tiny cell was good at extracting energy from food, and the bigger cell provided protection and … food.
Teamwork.
Read more about the role of Margulis in the story of human evolution in FISH WITH FEET: HUMAN EVOLUTION AND THE IMAGE OF GOD.
This place is a gem and a Texas treasure – a national treasure, really.
Located in Seymour, Texas, the museum is adjacent to the world’s best fossil fields for Permian specimens.
I’ve been to natural history museums in New York, Washington, London, Houston, and invariably, the Permian fossils are from Seymour.
The dimetrodon is a star attraction. Bless its heart, it gets put too often in the dinosaur bin at the toy store, but this sail-back giant is far more closely related to you and me than to the dinosaurs.
Animals like dimetrodon fascinate me – already we can see mammalian traits evolving in an almost 300 million year old animal – note the very mammal-like teeth in my photos.
I was in awe. The story of human evolution is rooted so deeply in the tree of life.
Dimetrodon is a picture of what was to come.
The real star of the museum and its heart is Chris Flis, the paleontologist responsible for most of the finds and the curator of the collection.
I went to see the Permian, but there’s so much more – including a mammoth molar Chris found when he was ten!
It’s so worth the trip – fossil prep is out and open for viewing and fossil lovers of all ages will be delighted.
Here I’m holding the ACTUAL teeth of Queen Margaret, an incredibly complete dimetrodon discovered by Chris. Note the mammal-like teeth in this animal not yet a mammal but well on its way.Paleontologist Chris Flis and Queen Margaret’s teeth!Me with a reconstruction of my long ago cousin.A photo op with Bonnie the dimetrodonMy favorite research buddy and travel partner (aka my husband)
Is our universe the result of an indifferent, meaningless, purposeless accident?
The Story of Everything, a new film with limited theater release, says no.
The film is hosted by Stephen Meyer, a philosopher of science and longtime star of “intelligent design”.
Note: “Intelligent Design” is not a concept separate from creationism, rather, Intelligent Design is a way of explaining creationism, an approach infused with lots of science-y jargon. And like young and old earth creationism, intelligent design assumes a micromanaging creator.
The film is very well made, and animations of physical and biochemical processes are impressive.
The Story of Everything opens with an argument that no one is making: “Science disproves God.”
Actually, the existence of God is not a question for science. Science addresses the questions of “how” and “when.”
Science has nothing to say about “who” and “why.” Yet, the film is entirely devoted to “proving” God via science evidence.
Origin of the universe is the theme of the first half; origin of life the theme of the second.
Life is my wheelhouse, so I’ll focus there.
“If it could be demonstrated that any complex organ existed which could not be formed by numerous, successive, slight modifications,” wrote Charles Darwin, “my theory would absolutely break down.”
Darwin lived, wrote, and died a hundred years before we knew anything about genetics. Yet, the film throws the poor guy under the bus for what he could not have known.
And who is the star witness for evolution’s failure? The bacterial flagellum, of course.
Reality: the “irreducible complexity” of the bacterial flagellum has been debunked for more than two decades.
The film relies excessively on arguments from incredulity. . . in other words, if I don’t understand it, it must be impossible.
How, for example, could the components of DNA randomly self-organize to code for the vast diversity of life on our planet? A roomful of typing monkeys could never reproduce Shakespeare!
Yet, if we lock in a letter whenever the monkeys get it right, those monkeys can reproduce the entirety of Hamlet in 4.5 days.
Physics and chemistry constrain biology. The organization of macromolecules like DNA is not random.
The Story of Everything closes with the beauty argument.
Look at the world! Extravagance and beauty as far as the eye can see! Unnecessary beauty. More beauty than needed for survival.
Surely such gratuitous beauty points to a designer. According to narrator Stephen Meyer, beauty is a “huge problem” for evolution.
What the film doesn’t consider is the other side of the coin … Ugly creatures. Cruelty in nature. Deadly designs.
The jewel wasp lays its eggs inside a trapped cockroach so its larva can literally feast on the living insect from the inside.
The naked mole rat. Only his momma thinks he’s cute.
Childbirth through the pelvis frequently meant death for mothers and babies for much of human history
Shared space for breathing and swallowing tubes risks choking and death
The genetic mutation that protects against malaria causes deadly sickle cell disease
Arguing for an intelligent, benevolent designer demands a look at the ugly side of the coin.
Can rational reasons be made for belief in God? I think so.
But we lose credibility when we ignore empirical evidence. We do faith no favors by making bad arguments.
Contrary to the message of The Story of Everything, we do not have to choose between accepting evolution and believing that life has purpose and meaning.
You can always count on family for embarrassing childhood stories. This was one of my mom’s favorites:
I frequently came home from kindergarten in tears, saying “the other kids don’t like me.” My mom scheduled a parent conference, expecting a comforting alternative story from my teacher.
Instead, my teacher responded: “she’s right.”
Womp-womp-womp…..
Apparently, I was a bit too bossy during group activities.
And to this day, I’m not a fan of group projects.
But writing a book is a different story. Writing is hard work, and it takes a team for an idea to travel from brain to book. I’m beyond grateful for mine.
My husband, my family, my friends. The awesome team of editors and publicists at Eerdmans Publishing. Teachers, past and present.
Neanderthals, an extinct human species and our closest cousins, disappeared about 40 thousand years ago.
But before they did, they met and had children with modern humans.
The DNA of all modern humans with ancestry outside Africa is about 2% Neanderthal. In fact, 50-60% of the Neanderthal genome is found scattered throughout the modern human population.
I’ve spit in a test tube, and it’s true: about 2% of my DNA is Neanderthal!
Interestingly, modern Africans with only African ancestry have zero-to-almost zero Neanderthal DNA.
(Raise your hand if you know why!)
Here’s a fun fact: Neanderthal bones exhibit the same injuries seen in modern rodeo cowboys. Rodeo cowboys share a dangerous vocation with our extinct cousins – wrangling large animals in close quarters. Neanderthals weren’t throwing spears or shooting arrows or hunting with projectiles.
Do you wish you knew more about our evolutionary past? Have I got a book for you!
Coming in August: FISH WITH FEET: HUMAN EVOLUTION AND THE IMAGE OF GOD.
(available now for preorder at your favorite bookseller!)
One of my favorite podcasts ends each episode with “reasons for hope.” Lost among the higher-profile results of the recent off-year elections was a scientific “reason for hope.”
Two years ago, Cy-Fair ISD (one of the largest in Texas), elected a slate of board members determined to sabotage the district’s science curriculum. The ringleader was Natalie Blasingame, who, in a fundraising email, vowed to tear down the wall between church and state.
Blasingame and the board immediately banned chapters within already adopted textbooks. Banned content included chapters on vaccines and climate change.
Although it’s unfortunate that Cy-Fair students missed two years of instruction on some of the most important concepts in science, here’s my reason for hope:
In November, the board members responsible for the chapter-bannings were voted out and replaced with pro-science-literacy folks.
And boy, do we need science literacy.
Three weeks after the election, the CDC (under the direction of RFK Jr.) updated its website to read “studies have not ruled out the possibility” that vaccines contribute to autism.
Sigh.
Decades of peer-reviewed research say otherwise.
As one writer put it: we also can’t rule out that vaccines cause tornadoes.
My first teaching job was middle school science, and science fairs were my absolute favorite.
My students competed in local fairs and regularly advanced to the regional and state fair.
Fun memory: defending my brilliant seventh grade student’s project to a panel of judges who wanted assurance that she actually designed her study.
I assured them she did, and I’ll never forget the judges (medical doctors and scientists) encircling a tiny girl, asking her questions and amazed with her answers.
Her seventh grade project?
Designing a new birth control device.
In this dystopian science world where research in mRNA therapies is canceled (absolutely a tragedy), the CDC is held hostage by a germ theory skeptic, and my Texas just made ivermectin an OTC drug, a science fair was held on Capitol Hill.
But instead of bright-eyed middle schoolers, the fair featured poster displays of promising breakthroughs by actual researchers – studies abruptly cancelled by the current administration.
In an office lobby, two dozen researchers spoke about the importance of their studies and the dangers threatening scientific research.
But who needs controlled, peer-reviewed research? Bring on the horse meds.
In September, THE GOD OF MONKEY SCIENCE turns two years old!
And just in time for the celebration, here’s a new review by Glenn Branch (National Center for Science Education) in Reviews in Religion and Theology (Vol 321, No. 2).
The message of the book – the dangers of science denial and its roots in evangelicalism – is just as important, if not more so, since HHS is now led by a germ theory skeptic and vaccine conspiracist.
Here’s Branch:
“Addressing them in the same appealing conversational tone she used in her previous book, Baby Dinosaurs on the Ark? (Eerdmans, 2021), she urges them to reconsider their attitudes toward science and scientists, because, as she summarizes, ‘Our culture wars are killing people and wrecking faith’ (p. 179). At a time when the American public is viciously and unnecessarily divided over issues such as these, The God of Monkey Science is a welcome intervention.”
After two books about science denial and religion and a third book out next spring, after years of blogs and speaking, I finally made the trip to the Ark Encounter and the Creation Museum, the epicenter of Ken Ham’s Answers in Genesis universe.
I needed to see it all in person. After all, the Ark hosts 724,000 to 875,000 visitors per year and about 300,000 visit the Creation Museum.
Both museums are really well-done – absolutely Disney quality – bestowing an aura of credibility to the exhibits.
Across two days and across the two venues, a common theme emerged: creationism is true science, and “secular” science cannot be trusted.
Dinosaurs are the mark of valid science according to Ken Ham, and he is committed to “taking the dinosaurs back” from “secular scientists.”
Both the Creation Museum and the Ark Encounter are preoccupied with dinosaurs.
Dinosaurs in cages on the ark. Dinosaur-adjacent pterosaurs soar above the ark in artwork. Extensive explanations of dinosaur transport logistics throughout.
Then there’s the Creation Museum.
From the moment you step inside, you can’t swing a cat without hitting a dinosaur.
Dragons are REAL – they’re actually dinosaurs! Dinosaurs are in the Bible!
Dinosaurs peacefully grazing alongside children, dinosaurs in the Garden of Eden, dinos surround you, dinos peer down at you. Dinosaur giftshops filled with dino merch.
Ken Ham really wants you to believe he is on Team Science.
Answers in Genesis defines science in a way that no one outside the creationist world defines it, sorting “science” into one of two artificial categories:
Science is either “observational science” (things happening in the present) or “historical science” (interpreting evidence from the past).
“Observational science” is the only trustworthy science; “historical science” is sketchy at best and should never be trusted.
Here are two examples (from astronomy and biology) featured at the Creation Museum . . .
Observational science (trusted) answers these questions: what is the color of a star? How far away is a star?
Historical science (not trusted) includes the speed of light. The speed of light cannot be trusted because God might have manipulated it in the past. Therefore, we cannot use physics to determine the age of the universe.
Observational science (trusted) tells us that cells have organelles with complex functions.
Historical science (not trusted): includes evidence that complex cells evolved from simpler cells. The Bible tells us God created everything; therefore, complex cells must be designed, not evolved.
Overwhelmingly, the message of both museums is “don’t trust secular science.”
When it comes to science, the Bible is the only trustworthy source, and the Bible says God created everything.
Biology textbooks, on the other hand, frequently “change as new discoveries are made and hypotheses are formed.” (And that’s a bad thing?? That is HOW science works…. but I digress).
In exhibit after exhibit, both the Ark and the Creation Museum begin with foregone conclusions: the earth is six thousand years old, Genesis is literal, and evolution is fiction.
In exhibit after exhibit, we are told what “Must have happened” in order to support these forgone conclusions.
And with foregone conclusions, you’ll never need critical thinking.
Dragon Hall – large Dino-themed gift shopMy research assistant found a new pet!Baby Dinosaurs on the Ark! Someone should write a book…..!My research assistant and I disembarking (disemARKing!)
Janet K. Ray 