Alvin Plantinga, {\Where the Conflict Really Lies: Science, Religion, and Naturalism}, New York: Oxford University Press, 2011, xvi+359, \$27.95, ISBN 978-0-19-981209-7.
Bradford McCall
Clemson University
Graduate Student, Department of Biology
E-209 Martin Hall
Clemson, SC 29634
E-mail: bradfordlmcall@gmail.com
A prominent analytic philosopher, Alvin Plantinga, writes the title under current review; he herein writes on one of our biggest debates – the compatibility of science and religion. In the first part of this review, I shall generalize the contents of the book. In the second part of this review, I will comment specifically on certain entailments of the title. And then to finish off the review, I shall offer some general constructive criticisms of the text, and remark about its potential readership. Notably, this book originated as Gifford Lectures, entitled “Science and Religion: Conflict or Concord?” at the University of St. Andrews in 2005.
Plantinga’s overall theme in the book is that there is a superficial conflict but deep concord between science and religion, but superficial concord and deep conflict between science and naturalism. In the preface, Plantinga stipulates that one can be an atheist without rising to the full heights of naturalism, but one cannot be a naturalist without being an atheist (I will consider my objections to this later in the review). In Part I, composed of four chapters considering Alleged Conflict, Plantinga notes some supposed areas of conflict between science and theistic belief; first there is evolution; second, there is special divine action. Herein, he argues that apparent conflicts are just that: merely apparent. In Part II, Superficial Conflict, consisting of two chapters, Plantinga points out that are indeed some areas of potential conflict between science and theistic belief (e.g., evolutionary psychology), but they are merely superficial; they are superficial because the science evidentiary base is only part of the Christian evidentiary base. Part III, consisting of three chapters, argues that instead of conflict, there is concord between science and theism. This he attempts to demonstrate by considering fine-tuning arguments for theism.
In chapters 1 and 2, tensions between theistic belief and science are dealt with. Chapters 3 and 4 examine the claim that God acting specifically and specially in the world are compatible with science. In chapter 1, Plantinga ardently argues that since human beings are created imago dei, we resemble God not just in being persons who can think or feel, but also in that we can know and understand something of ourselves, the world, and God himself (4). Plantinga notes that God could have caused the right mutations to arise at the right time, that he could have preserved populations from perils of various sorts, and so on; in this manner, God could have seen to it that creatures of the type he envisioned were surely to come about. But this smacks of illogical and excessive interventionism. Why couldn’t an omniscient God (which Plantinga supports; more on this later) set it al up at the beginning?
On page 35 of this text, Plantinga argues that the notion that “mind and life in all its variety have come to be in this unguided fashion is of course inconsistent with Christian belief, as well as other kinds of theistic belief. For, according to Christians and other theists, God has designed and created the world; he intended that it take a certain form and then caused it to take that form.” I take issue with this series of statements for numerous reasons. For example, it is indeed possible that we live in a multiverse, whereby we are living in just one of many universes. Additionally, in my own doctoral work I argue that God is a lover of the possible. Indeed, the God of Possibilities may in fact glory in having novel, heretofore unforeseen possibilities to arise via the macro-evolutionary process. Furthermore, why does a creature have to this or that form to fulfill God’s plan? Why isn’t merely increased, sentient complexity enough?
Despite labeling one distinct section of his book, “Methodological Naturalism” (pp. 168-173), Plantinga takes no pains at distinguishing between methodological naturalism, which scientist often, if not infallibly, support, and philosophical naturalism, which reduces to materialism. What this means is that some very good Christians can be very good scientists, using methodological naturalism, while leaving philosophical naturalism off the table. An aggravating aspect of this text throughout is the usage of two sizes of print running concurrently, with the main argument in the large print, with more specialized points in smaller print. Why this is disturbing is because people are accustomed to read the text from end to end, but when one inserts quasi-superfluous text in an otherwise tight argument, it makes the entire argument itself hard to follow. At times, Plantinga, despite his protestations to the contrary (49), seems downright hostile to evolutionary theory. As another general criticism, Plantinga seems strident in his conviction to interpret Christianity through its later, Greek-philosophy influenced, form. Indeed, Plantinga consistently upholds a God who is omni-everything (omniscient, omnipotent, omniscient, etc.).
Despite my own misgivings about this text, I could easily see a wide readership. Indeed, students, scholars, and other readers interested in the debate over the compatibility of science and religion perhaps will gain much from the book. Moreover, anyone with a course or two in philosophy should be able to profit from this text, whether one ultimately agrees with Plantinga or not.