"The Clockwork Universe"

I stumbled across this thought while reading about Sir Isaac Newton and the Royal Society: The Clockwork Universe, by Edward Dolnick. It is an engaging historical review of the seventeenth century, and the minds which forever shaped the world we now live in.

First, I should let those of you reading this in on a little secret: In my own sensibility, a well structured and clever title, is as commendable as any number of more commonplace achievements. In fact, I find myself, as a past-time, titling my opinions and reflections before they're fully written or formed. Even mix Cd's are not spared the scrutiny. A book may very well be forgiven it's cover. But it's title, is more than a face, it is the first step taken in its journey with the audience. Alas,  we'll suffice it to say that the further I embark on my journey with the topics surveyed in "The Clockwork Universe" by Mr. Edward Dolnick, the more i grin at his decision in the naming of his summary.

Indeed, Clockwork, we'll call it, has outdone itself in two facets of the historical realm. First, its anecdotes are succinct and memorable, due in large part to it's plucking of tales from the numerous and intriguing figures of the era it covers. Secondly,  Dolnick's effort to introduce real-time "clockwork" perspectives into our culture of thought (long departed from what I consider it's more noble roots), are tangible and thus far, as neutral as any to be found in contemporary authorship. So neutral in fact, that not knowing a thing about the author's philosophy, one might venture to guess that his lack of vehemence in treating the religious facets of this era is akin to proclaiming his own agnosticism. (I'm sure that's not the case but readers have a habit of longing for the authors they enjoy to fall in line with them on all the beliefs they hold as foundationally true.)  I for one won't trip up on that desire. Mr Dolnick seems a good enough sort of man but let's get to the meat of the issue:

Chapter Twenty: The Parade of the Horribles, page 27: (I've added emphasis to bring out a couple items of note)

"Two centuries passed between Newton's theory of gravity and Darwin's theory of evolution. How could that be? Newton's work bristled with mathematics and focused on remote, unfamiliar objects like planets and comets. Darwin's theory of evolution dealt in ordinary words with ordinary things like pigeons and barnacles. "How extremely stupid not to have thought of that!" Thomas Huxley famously grumbled after first reading Darwin's Origin of Species.No one ever scolded himself for not beating Newton to the Princpia.

The "easier" theory proved harder to find because it required abandoning the idea of God the designer. Newton and his contemporaries never for  a moment considered rejecting the notion of design. The premise at the heart of evolution is that living creatures have inborn random differences; some of those random variations happen to provide an advantage in the struggle for life, and nature favors those variations. That focus on randomness was unthinkable in the seventeenth century...

Newton blinded by his faith in intelligent design, argued in the same vein. In a world where randomness was a possibility he scoffed, we'd be beset with every variety of jury-rigged, misshapen creature...

...Two related beliefs helped rule out any possibility of a seventeenth-century Darwin. The first was the assumption that every feature of the world had been put there for man's benefit,....

...The second assumption that blinded Newton and his contemporaries to evolution was the idea that the universe was almost brand-new.  The Bible put creation at a mere six thousand years in the past. Even if someone had conceived of a evolving natural world, that tiny span of time would not have offered enough elbow room...

Two hundred years later, scientists still clung to the same idea. In the words of Louis Agassiz, Darwin's great Victorian rival, each species was a thought of God. 

Let's be clear, this is the first time the subject of Evolution has been given any real stage in the text. 128 pages into a sub 400 page book. But when it is introduced I noted some sad and wonderful things.

Foremost is the acknowledgment that all conclusions are a production not only of data but the presuppositions with which data is interpreted. (I am not a scientist, I find the trials and challenges of such topics dull and uninviting.) I would venture to guess that those who study evidence, for that is what all science is in its most basic sense,are aware of the suppositions which accompany them into a review of the pertinent data. In fact, I should say it is those suppositions which in part assist in guessing exactly what data is pertinent to the given inquiry.

The author notes this remarkable trip in the assumptions of a given theory. I only desire to make one distinction: God and a rational worldview of evolution are incongruent entities. You cannot have your God and have evolved too.

Now the more astute of you will be blubbering to yourselves perhaps that I have overlooked the very statements I emphasized  "How dare he! There it is, plain as day, you can't have God the designer, but still a man might have his God!" furthermore you exclaim "It was Newton's reliance on intelligent design which might have hung him up; but surely his faith could overcome such ancient and foolhardy notions of the Divine!"

Suffice it to say, the thought had crossed my mind. It was I am glad to say, promptly followed by a second thought: what sort of god would this non-designing, mythic tale-telling god be? Not much of a god I should say. Now I could waste my breath pointing out conclusions, endorsements and overall common-sense (those of you who read the book would chuckle at that last bit) of leaving God where he belongs, rather than choking down some new take on an old mystery which comes out different with any presupposition. But I won't. The fact of the matter is Newton and his contemporaries were infallibly correct in leading their investigations by the light of consistent suppositions about the world they lived in. Without those blinders, they very well may have ended up doing nothing worth noting at all. Especially when one considers the motive of the Royal Society was at it's root, to explore the world in search of convicting evidence of the Almighty's handiwork.

Through the lens of their faith they did just that. I bemoan that men whose overbearing worldview was so agreeable to me have long since left our forums of thought and science. I grant you their characters and suppositions had some failings that ultimately would facilitate our current disillusionment with all things Faith. But I wonder if I wouldn't consider all the failings of their presumptions a small trouble in comparison with my current setting. A world so filled with prideful arrogance, so determined to aim it's arsenal against a genuinely awe inspiring Creator, that it would make up a Multi-verse, rather than allow it's ambitions, it's comprehension, and it's accomplishments to be aimed by His will.

Perhaps one day I'll trouble you with a long and comma riddled explanation of those faults in presumption. (Hint, they hinge upon the first anti-Darwinian supposition , mentioned in the above quote.) Until then, think for yourself.. But do remember, should you be a doubter: that God could care less for, and exist regardless of, your opinion of His existence, or what you might think of His relevance in your life. I'm sorry to break that to you.