The Believing Brain - Michael Shermer [15]
If science is so good at explaining nature that we do not need to invoke the deity for such remarkable productions as DNA, why does Francis Collins believe in God? Indeed, why would any scientist or reasoning person believe in God? That question has two answers: intellectual and emotional. Intellectually, Collins is aligned tightly with his fellow scientists when it comes to explaining everything in the world by natural law, with two exceptions (in Immanuel Kant’s poetic description): the starry heavens above and the moral law within.3 Here—in the realm of the cosmic origin of the laws of nature and the evolutionary origins of morality—Collins stands on the craggy edge of the abyss. Instead of pushing the science even further, he makes a leap of faith. Why?
The number one predictor of anyone’s religious beliefs is that of their parents and the religious environment of the family. Not so for Francis Collins, whose parents were Yale graduate secular freethinkers who homeschooled their four boys (Collins was the youngest) through sixth grade and neither encouraged nor discouraged religious thought. After parents, siblings, and family dynamics, peer groups and teachers play a powerful role in shaping one’s beliefs, and in his middle school years—now enrolled in public schools—Collins encountered a compelling chemistry teacher and decided then and there that science was his calling. Assuming that religious skepticism was part and parcel of the scientific mind, Collins defaulted into agnosticism, not after careful analysis of the arguments and evidence, but “more along the lines of ‘I don’t want to know.’” Reading a biography of Einstein and the great scientist’s rejection of the personal God of Abraham, “only reinforced my conclusion that no thinking scientist could seriously entertain the possibility of God without committing some sort of intellectual suicide. And so I gradually shifted from agnosticism to atheism. I felt quite comfortable challenging the spiritual beliefs of anyone who mentioned them in my presence, and discounted such perspectives as sentimentality and outmoded superstition.”4
The intellectual edifice he had built on the skeptical side of the spectrum was gradually chipped away by emotional experiences as a medical student and resident, overwhelmed by the pain and suffering of his patients and impressed by how well their faith served them in their time of need. “What struck me profoundly about my bedside conversations with these good North Carolina people was the spiritual aspect of what many of them were going through. I witnessed numerous cases of individuals whose faith provided them with a strong reassurance of ultimate peace, be it in this world or the next, despite terrible suffering that in most instances they had done nothing to bring on themselves. If faith was a psychological crutch, I concluded, it must be a very powerful one. If it was nothing more than a veneer of cultural tradition, why were these people not shaking their fists at God and demanding that their friends and family