Judging Science

When the crowd of scientists—350 strong, packed tightly into a conference seminar room—rose together in a unanimous standing ovation, the hair on the back of my neck stood up, too. I followed close behind.

We were applauding a Republican judge, appointed by President George W. Bush, who surprised several pundits, and probably a few scientists, with his one-two punch ruling last December on intelligent design: It should not be taught in Pennsylvania schools, and intelligent design is not only unscientific but also the root of a breathtakingly inane debate (C&EN, Jan. 30, page 43).

The ovation came as Judge John E. Jones III wrapped up an evening seminar at the Geological Society of America's annual meeting in Philadelphia last month. Clearly, the organizers hadn't expected the turnout. There was nary a mention of the talk in the thick book of abstracts. But the standing-room-only crowd showed the sort of attentiveness I would normally expect from football fans in the last minutes of a tied Super Bowl.

Eschewing the public vow of silence most judges seem to take after their rulings, Jones told us about the death threats he'd received—his first ever, despite having put many a criminal behind bars. "On Christmas Eve, my wife couldn't walk the dog without a U.S. marshall," he said. "That's a sad situation." He also spoke about the very ethereal experience of watching the wrath of right-wing punditry directed entirely at oneself via national TV. Conservative commentator Ann Coulter even dished the judge some of her famous scorn in a recent book.

As fascinating as I found Jones's story, I was more moved by the geologists' reaction. When the judge finished speaking, the audience began a thunderous storm of clapping. After several seconds, it became a standing ovation.

I speak with scientists every day, and I think it's fair to say that when most researchers get visceral, it's about a hotly debated detail specific to their research field. But even accounting for the exasperation most scientists have for intelligent design, I found the reaction of these geologists compelling. I'd never witnessed a standing ovation at a scientific meeting. An intelligently designed but completely unscientific poll of my colleagues confirmed that my experience was an exception.

It occurred to me that the emotion might stem from the fact that governing theories at the core of geology—for instance, plate tectonics and the age of the universe—are directly attacked by the ravings of intelligent-design advocates.

"It's personal," H. Jay Melosh, a professor of planetary science at the University of Arizona, told me. "Geology professors face intelligent-design proponents who stand up and debate in the freshman geology courses that they teach." Imagine trying to teach basic chemistry to students who stand up and debate the existence of atoms in the middle of a lecture on oxidation-reduction reactions.

It's not just geology's central theories that are under attack. Geologists often find their day-to-day research under fire. "When people on airplanes ask me what I do, I tell them about my Precambrian research," explained Joseph G. Meert, a geologist at the University of Florida. "Then they say, 'Have you heard about the problems with radiometric dating?' " Meert said he sees these sorts of one-on-one discussions as an opportunity for a bit of scientific evangelism, but others see it as just plain frustrating. One geologist told me that in some areas of the U.S., after a visiting geologist has given an academic lecture and everyone is out for dinner, the guests are advised not to talk about research because the word "evolution" spurs unwanted comment from enthusiastic eavesdroppers.

For geologists, as well as evolutionary biologists, intelligent design is an all-around pain in the butt. The emotional applause I saw in Philadelphia was part catharsis and part appreciation for the vindication Jones had provided. In his remarks, the judge got a little vindication, too: vindication for the idea of judicial independence, something many people assume doesn't exist in the courts, he argued.

Speaking about the media reportage during the trial, he wryly commented, "I thought my name had changed to 'the Bush-appointed Republican judge,' I heard it so many times." Jones said it was upsetting that many people initially assumed his ruling would suit any one particular administration. He takes his judicial independence extremely seriously, and he capitalized on the enraptured audience to evangelize accordingly.

I realized it all comes down to credibility. Scientists want their professional assessments of incompetent science to be taken as credible. Judges want their ability to make independent judgments to be taken as credible, too. As for me, I'm still euphoric that this U.S. district judge made such an intelligent decision about intelligent design.

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