Does science point to the existence of intelligent design in the universe? How would we know design if we saw it? Is talk of "design" simply outside the boundaries of science? Such questions have been given urgency in the past decade by the emergence of new arguments against the Darwinian consensus, as exemplified by Michael Behe's widely reviewed book, Darwin's Black Box (1996). To some Christian thinkers, including B&C contributing editor Phillip Johnson, this movement is nothing less than an intellectual revolution, toppling the dictatorship of naturalism, while others—including many in the sciences—regard the intelligent design movement as another wrong turn, leading away from the reconciliation of science and faith and bringing embarrassment and disrepute to the church.
Dean Overman's book, A Case Against Accident and Self-Organization, is another volley in this debate. Like Johnson, Overman is a lawyer, and if he lacks Johnson's superb rhetorical skills, he nonetheless displays a powerful intellect and a lawyerly ability to make a case. His book comes with recommendations from prominent Christian scientists such as cosmologist Owen Gingerich and mathematical physicist-turned-Anglican priest John Polkinghorne (who is interviewed in this issue). Alister McGrath, a theologian with scientific training, also commends Overman's book to our attention. We asked biochemist Michael Behe and biologist Rebecca Flietstra to review Overman's book. Then Behe and Flietstra were given the opportunity to respond to each other's arguments.
Books & Culture is committed to more extensive coverage of science. One purpose of that coverage will be to counter the widespread evangelical notion that science and faith are inherently antagonistic—that is, when science is not being ignored altogether. (Have you looked at the science section in a Christian bookstore lately?) At the same time, we will continue to cover important debates generated by the clash between reductive materialism and a Christian world-view, as well as debates among Christians (and other theists) who tell competing stories of the universe.
—JW
Tulips & DandelionsMichael J. Behe
Yellow flowers grace my yard and my neighbor's yard. His yellow flowers—tulips—grow neatly around his mailbox. My yellow flowers are dandelions, scattered hither and yon. Anyone walking down the street would easily realize that my neighbor arranged his flower bed on purpose. Few would think the same of my flowers.
How do we recognize intelligent design? We ourselves are intelligent beings, acting to accomplish our purposes, and we are adept at discerning telltale signs of intelligent activity. Every day of our lives we decide that certain things were purposely arranged, other things not. But how do we do that? How do we distinguish a cultivated flower bed from a patch of weeds? A chance meeting from a conspiracy? Radio noise in space from a message sent by aliens? A random universe from an arranged one?
Throughout history the detection of design has been a rather intuitive business. As is said of pornography, we couldn't define it, but we knew it when we saw it. That is changing. Prodded by developments in several branches of science, the subject of design itself is coming under scrutiny and being put on a more rigorous footing.1
Briefly (too briefly), we recognize design when we apprehend "specified small probability": a highly improbable event that fits a pattern. The arrangement of tulips around my neighbor's mailbox is highly improbable, and the pattern beautifies his yard. Radio waves coming from space, spelling out "Greetings Earthlings" in Morse code, are highly improbable, and the message is a recognizable pattern.






