"The point here is that physics followed the data where it seemed to lead, even though some thought the model gave aid and comfort to religion"
About this Quote
Behe is borrowing the prestige of physics to smuggle legitimacy into a culture-war argument about science and religion. The line is built to sound modestly empirical, but it’s really a rebuke: if “real” scientists once swallowed their discomfort and followed evidence to a conclusion that happened to please religious people, then today’s scientists should stop flinching when biological data appears to point toward design. Physics becomes the respectable older sibling drafted to vouch for Behe’s beleaguered thesis.
The key phrase “aid and comfort” is a deliberate provocation. It echoes the language of treason and wartime betrayal, recasting methodological skepticism as a kind of political or tribal loyalty test. That isn’t an accident; it frames resistance to Behe’s preferred interpretation not as a technical dispute about mechanisms, but as a fear-driven impulse to deny religion any win. He also keeps the agents vague: “some thought” turns critics into a shadowy, emotionally motivated chorus rather than identifiable scientific interlocutors with specific objections.
Context matters because Behe writes from inside the intelligent design controversy, where the argument is rarely just about data. Courts, curricula, and public authority hover in the background. By invoking physics, he’s gesturing at episodes like the Big Bang’s early reception, when cosmology was accused of sounding too much like Genesis. The move is rhetorically savvy: it invites the reader to see “design” not as theology sneaking into the lab, but as the lab bravely refusing to censor itself. The subtext: if you reject my conclusion, you’re not protecting science; you’re protecting a secular narrative.
The key phrase “aid and comfort” is a deliberate provocation. It echoes the language of treason and wartime betrayal, recasting methodological skepticism as a kind of political or tribal loyalty test. That isn’t an accident; it frames resistance to Behe’s preferred interpretation not as a technical dispute about mechanisms, but as a fear-driven impulse to deny religion any win. He also keeps the agents vague: “some thought” turns critics into a shadowy, emotionally motivated chorus rather than identifiable scientific interlocutors with specific objections.
Context matters because Behe writes from inside the intelligent design controversy, where the argument is rarely just about data. Courts, curricula, and public authority hover in the background. By invoking physics, he’s gesturing at episodes like the Big Bang’s early reception, when cosmology was accused of sounding too much like Genesis. The move is rhetorically savvy: it invites the reader to see “design” not as theology sneaking into the lab, but as the lab bravely refusing to censor itself. The subtext: if you reject my conclusion, you’re not protecting science; you’re protecting a secular narrative.
Quote Details
| Topic | Science |
|---|
More Quotes by Michael
Add to List
