What's Next In The Evolution Debate?

Judge John E. Jones gets my vote for man of the year. His legal smacking upside the head of the school board in Dover, Pa., that tried to bully intelligent design into ninth-grade biology classes at Dover High School did more than just score one for local students' education.

Jones's Dec. 20, 2005, ruling on the case was remarkable, and not just because he made clear that intelligent design (ID) is ultimately about religion and therefore is unconstitutional to teach as science. In his 139-page judgment, he castigated the fundamentalist school board members who had insisted that their biology teachers introduce ID as a valid alternative to evolution for their "breathtaking inanity" and for wasting the public's time and money.

But most important, he laid bare the logical fallacy, used by ID proponents, that gaps in evolutionary theory's ability to explain all points are equivalent to evidence in favor of an intelligent designer. It was clear that Jones actually got it and wasn't afraid to say so.

Dover appeared to get it, too. Even before the trial ended, in a local election, voters ousted eight of the Dover school board members and replaced them with candidates who oppose ID in science classes.

Could it be that the U.S. is finally coming to embrace the scientific method? That we're beginning to understand that the phrase "teach the controversy" is meaningless when there is no scientific controversy?

Well, not so fast. Tempting as it may be for most scientists to bask in the glow of vindication, nobody really thinks antievolutionism is dead or even seriously wounded. Right now in Kansas, a pro-ID school board is rewriting its public school science teaching standards to avoid using guidelines developed by the National Academy of Sciences and the National Science Teachers Association. Those groups refused to allow the school board to use their materials after the board inserted ID into the curriculum.

The National Center for Science Education in Oakland, Calif., is the active, nonprofit watchdog and advocacy organization that keeps a finger on the pulse of antievolutionism around the nation. So I called Glenn Branch, NCSE's deputy director, to see what the mood is like there these days. Although they're certainly happy about the Dover ruling, they're not lowering their guard.

"Unfortunately, a lot of people are coming away from the Dover trial thinking that this is the end of intelligent design, without noticing the fallback strategy of denigrating evolution," Branch says.

Antievolutionism is a slippery creature, constantly reinventing itself to stay ahead of the legal system. In fact, creationism comes in a dizzying array of flavors: "Young Earth" creationists, often fundamentalist Christians, claim that the planet was created only thousands of years ago. "Old Earth" creationists maintain that God created humans on an older Earth or that the length of the "days" of creation in the Bible is open to interpretation.

In the 1960s, creationism proponents attempted to bring their views into biology classes under the mantle of "creation science." In 1987, the U.S. Supreme Court put a stop to that. Then intelligent design popped up. It did away with explicit mention of God and the Bible, insisting only that some biological systems are too complex to have been engineered by random evolutionary forces.

But now that the Dover case has appeared to cement legal opposition to science class instruction with even a whiff of religion, the focus of creationists and ID proponents may begin shifting from attempting to imbue creationism with scientific credibility to dismantling evolution itself. Or, as Branch puts it, "just shutting up about alternatives and slinging mud at evolution for all they're worth."

Branch appears to be right. In the first few weeks of 2006, no less than five sneaky creationist/ID pieces of legislation have been introduced by state politicians. In Utah, S.B. 96 requires teachers to stress that, regarding biological origins, "not all scientists agree on which theory is correct." In Oklahoma, H.B. 2107 and H.B. 2526 would protect teachers who want to teach creationism or ID and would authorize school districts to include ID in science courses. In Indiana, H.B. 1388 forbids teachers to use textbooks that contain "false" information. That sounds commendable, until you see the bill author's claim that some aspects of evolution are "lies." And in Missouri, H.B. 1266 would require that, in public school classes discussing theories of biological origins, "a critical analysis of such theory or hypothesis shall be taught in a substantive amount."

Humanities classes may also represent a new frontier for antievolutionists. This month, the El Tejon School District in Lebec, Calif., attempted to introduce "Philosophy of Design," a course with a blatantly creationist bent. Parents filed suit, and the school district backed down and agreed to withdraw the course.

That's good news, as is the recent publication in the official Vatican newspaper of statements that defend the Dover decision. In addition to NCSE, more proevolution forces are coming from grassroots groups such as the Kansas Citizens for Science and Georgia Citizens for Integrity in Science Education, notably in the states most under siege by antievolutionists. "There's [no] Massachusetts group," Branch quips. "If there were, they'd probably be bored."

Views expressed on this page are those of the author and not necessarily those of ACS.