FOR MANY OF US, myself included, practicing doubt as a virtue can lead to humility. For example, if you had asked me when I first started my research whether there are many ways of being a religious scientist, I would have said, “Of course.” If you had asked me whether there were many ways of being an atheist scientist, I probably would have said, “Not really”—being an atheist of any sort is by definition not to believe in God, simple as that. I was so sure I was right. But, as a sociologist, I have learned to doubt my assumptions, especially the assumptions I have about characteristics of groups. My studies of scientists over the past fifteen years have shown me that there are many varieties of atheism among scientists, including spiritual atheists and religious atheists. Discovering this diversity is just one of the ways that my research has humbled me and changed my previous thinking about a topic.
Humility is recognizing the limitations of our own understanding, abilities, and perspectives. Humility is being aware that we are not God. Sometimes this happens the hard way. Sometimes you think you are going to conquer time and what you wind up with is a big purple toe that conquers your attempt to be super productive. A few years ago, I had a foot problem in the form of an ingrown toenail. While embarrassing to admit, it doesn’t sound like that big of a deal. But by the time I was seated in my doctor’s office, my toe was swollen and I was in pain. The podiatrist walked in, took one look at the toe, and announced that it was infected and needed to be taken care of immediately. He told me I would need minor surgery, something called a toenail resection, which would ensure that the toenail would not cause further infection. He also told me I was in luck because he could fit me right in.
For a long time, I have been afraid of hospitals. I am also afraid of needles and blood. But when a doctor tells you that you have a serious problem and require surgery, even a minor one, you listen. I have years of experience with both medical issues and earning a PhD, but I know that I know less than a doctor when it comes to issues related to health and well-being. I recognize my limited knowledge. What I do not readily acknowledge is my limited time.
After my minor surgery, the doctor told me I should go home and put my foot up. What I didn’t tell him was that I planned to go ahead with several hours of afternoon meetings, one with a major university leader. I wasn’t going to let minor surgery stop me. I walked out the door with a slight limp. And because my foot was still somewhat numb, I did not feel it when my foot banged right into the exit door. I looked down to see that my beige bandage had turned completely red with blood. I went back into the doctor’s office to ask for help. Unfortunately, the office had run out of beige bandages and all they had left was bright purple. The nurse wrapped it around my foot many times, a clear reminder that I needed to take care of it, take it slow, and take time to rest. Sometimes there are signs of our own limits—big purple toe signs, for example.
As Christians we are familiar with the theological idea of humility. Our faith reminds us that God is God and we are not, and that full truth can never be known because of our human limitations and our limited ability to know the mind of God. This is not to say that there is no truth but to say that, as human beings, “we don’t yet see things clearly,” as pastor and theologian Eugene Peterson says in The Message, his paraphrase of the Bible. He translates, “We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!” (1 Cor. 13:12). In other words, it’s only when we see God face to face that we will know all. On this earth, we are all constrained by our limited human knowledge.
Humility, especially intellectual humility, is also a key scientific virtue. In the study of scientific virtues conducted by philosopher Robert Pennock, he found that “humility to evidence,” defined as the “willingness to abandon a preferred hypothesis when faced with conflicting results,” was one of the ten most widely held values of science as named by elite scientists.1 My studies have examined how scientists practice humility in their pursuit of understanding and truth.
Humility in Science
“It gave me great pleasure to tell you about the mysteries with which physics confronts us,” Albert Einstein once wrote in a letter to the queen of Belgium. “As a human being, one has been endowed with just enough intelligence to be able to see clearly how utterly inadequate that intelligence is when confronted with what exists. If such humility could be conveyed to everybody, the world of human activities would be more appealing.”2
Scientists who practice intellectual humility are willing “to reconsider their views, to avoid defensiveness when challenged, and to moderate their own need to appear ‘right.’” They “recognize and own their intellectual limitations in the service of pursuing deeper knowledge, truth, and understanding.”3 In other words, they acknowledge that while the tools of science help us understand the world and nature, human knowledge and understanding is limited. They hold their findings with an open hand, recognizing that they might be wrong. In the words of Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar, a Nobel Prize–winning physicist, “Nature has shown over and over again that the kinds of truth which underlie nature transcend the most powerful minds.”4
Writing about science and humility, Connor Wood, a research associate at the Center for Mind and Culture in Boston who has a doctorate in religion and science, says:
I think science gives us remarkable tools to reflect on the world and come up with ways to test our ideas about it. But our ideas are always just that—our ideas. The world is, by definition, always bigger, badder, wilder, and more complex than our ideas could ever be. . . . You have to simplify the world to create models of it. [This] doesn’t mean our models or ideas aren’t accurate, or useful—not at all! . . . Just because science works doesn’t mean it necessarily tells us the 100% truth about the world. And its success doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be humble—even radically humble. This goes for scientist and non-scientist, religious believer and skeptic. No matter how strong our convictions, we should always leave room for re-examining our beliefs, for being open to the unexpected. Otherwise our ideas about the world harden into stone—and stone is opaque.5
The Limits of Science
For many scientists who are Christians, humility in their work comes in part from the belief that they are trying to understand a universe created by God with laws and an order that make sense, even though they don’t yet understand it all. “I was merely thinking God’s thoughts after Him,” mathematician and astronomer Johannes Kepler once said.6
People I interviewed expressed similar sentiments to those of Kepler. They often felt humbled by profound theological questions raised by science. While science can’t know everything, the fact that humans, as the limited creatures that we are, can know anything at all about the universe was deeply meaningful. A Christian physicist told me, “The whole idea of being a scientist presupposes that the universe is understandable. That it’s rational. And that is why I think one of my favorite quotes that I share with both believers and non-believers alike is from Albert Einstein, who said that the most incomprehensible thing about the universe is that it’s comprehensible. And that was his basis . . . that especially those of us in areas like physics come face-to-face with. Why the universe is comprehensible.”7
While humility is often lauded as a scientific virtue, Christians sometimes feel that nonreligious scientists have difficulty recognizing that science may be limited. Christians think that scientists are not open to the idea that there are other ways of pursuing knowledge and of understanding the world, particularly when it comes to the ethical implications of science: “It’s very hard for a lot of scientists to remember that there are other ways of knowing things in the world, other than just the scientific framework . . . because you become so embedded within those practices,” one biologist told me. “That frame of view [pauses and sighs] can be extremely challenging for faith.”8
The Christians in science that I interviewed often talked about scientists who do not seem to practice intellectual humility, particularly in the way they interact with other Christians. But many in the scientific community also do not like scientists to act like they know it all. For example, in my work on how scientists respond to public intellectual Richard Dawkins, author of The God Delusion, I show how Dawkins is often perceived by his scientist critics as misrepresenting science and scientists. One cluster of UK scientists I interviewed said that they are not fans of how Dawkins talks about religion or science, feeling that, in arguing for the superiority of science over religion, his public engagement misrepresents what the process of science can do. One atheist biologist, discussing how to emphasize the limitations of science to students, told me, “Some people like Richard Dawkins. . . . He’s a fundamental atheist. He feels compelled to take the evidence way beyond that which other scientists would regard as possible. . . . I want [students] to develop [science] in their own lives. And I think it’s necessary to understand what science does address directly.”9
A number of scientists my team and I interviewed believe that Dawkins, in particular, is not properly humble about science, betraying the scientific virtue of intellectual humility by not conveying the limits and limitations of scientific inquiry. Many atheist scientists think Dawkins gives the public the false impression that all scientists do—or should—share his kind of atheism. They also expressed concern that he makes it seem that scientists are dogmatic rather than open to new ideas. In their view, there are many atheist scientists who believe that questions related to meaning, purpose, or the existence of God are not inappropriate; these questions just fall outside the scope of science.
Here is where many atheist scientists and Christian scientists might actually agree. While they do not agree on the importance of faith, they may agree that science cannot explain everything. For example, a Christian biologist I interviewed said this: “I think we just accept that science is not a complete view of the world and so that means every scientific finding comes with an asterisk that . . . what we’ve come to is the best account of the world, you know, without considering God’s action. If we consider God’s action, that there’s a theologically or scripturally motivated way to think about God’s action, then maybe that would change our answer because science is only an incomplete view of the world.”10
And in one survey I conducted, I found that about 31 percent of those in the general US population and 50 percent of evangelical Protestants do not think that, given enough time, science will be able to provide a natural explanation for everything. Only 16 percent of evangelical Christians in science and 23 percent of mainline Protestants in science agree that science will provide a complete natural explanation for our world.11 It is important for those in churches to understand that the majority of scientists, Christian and non-Christian, take a humble approach to science.
Relational Humility
A few years ago, I read an article by Amanda King, an MD/PhD student. In it, she described how she was approached by other physicians and researchers to discuss a potential collaboration around her thesis project. “About two hours into the meeting, I realized that I was the only person in this room without at least one doctoral degree,” she writes. “Yet these incredible scientists with decades of experience had been treating me—a second-year grad student—as an equal. . . . There was no reason why I should have been placed anywhere close to the same level. . . . So why were they treating me with such unearned respect?” King goes on to reflect, “Humility does not mean meekness. Humility does not mean unconditional deference. Humility does not mean not standing up for what you believe in—including when you believe in your own scientific findings. Humility means being open to the possibility of being wrong, being willing to consider other people’s ideas and being respectful—of your seniors, your peers and your subordinates.”12
From my own studies and experiences in science, I have seen that intellectual humility and hospitality as well as relational humility—embodying kindness and respect for the ideas of others no matter their status—go hand in hand. When we recognize that we are limited in our own understanding, abilities, and perspectives, we are humble and kind about the limitations of others. I have also noticed that practicing relational humility is not always easy for scientists, myself included. Science can be an extremely competitive environment that, as one scientist told me, “often seems to chew up and spit out individuals with little regard for human dignity.”13 Scientists often work incredibly long hours with no guarantee of payoff. Often, we get so caught up in our careers that we can forget the community of people who we are engaging with every day and who deserve to be treated with respect. We can also become too concerned with institutional status and prestige. Yet I have also found that many scientists place great importance on practicing relational humility in the workplace.
I have been thinking a lot lately about practices of intellectual and relational humility. One way I try to practice relational humility in my own work is through the Religion and Public Life Program, which I direct at Rice University. I, and the other leaders of the program, want to intentionally subvert the unending competition, the worship of status and prestige so common in elite academic environments. We try to practice relational humility by intentionally creating an environment of collaboration that seeks regular input from every member of the team, including undergraduates, graduate students, postdoctoral fellows, and full-time staff. To this end, once each week every member of the team gathers around a table and has the chance to offer ideas and feedback. We also use this time to celebrate each other’s successes.
I found a special emphasis on relational humility among the scientists I interviewed who are Christian. Several of the Christian scientists I spoke with told me that caring for those they work with and mentor is extremely important to them. They also said it was important to ensure that those around them are being treated with care and respect. They view their coworkers and students as people who are created in the image of God.
One evangelical Christian biologist recounted how he tried to use humility to shift the organizational culture of his work environment. He wanted to make sure that “there’s a greater awareness that science is more than just [a set of ideas and methods]. It’s more than just a career. It’s more than just a method. It’s a community of people that Jesus loves.”14 Another scientist explained how “her moral commitments as a Christian influence how she treats others,” regardless of their rank or background. She explained, “As a Christian . . . I believe that people are equal and that everybody has the potential for good that makes them intrinsically valued, [which is] a very Christian belief.”15
One biologist told me he felt that some of his colleagues were intensely competitive and had forgotten the quality of humility. He explained that the humility he brings to the workplace stems from his faith, allowing him to feel secure in his work and abilities and to expand his knowledge by interacting with the community of scientists around him without reservations. His sense of contentedness, he explained, “was generated from his understanding of the Christian faith and freed him to develop genuine relationships, including with potential competitors.” His faith, he said, “always influences” how he treats his students. “I have tried to live my life helping people as much as I can. That includes my students,” he said. “Their success is my success. And I think my upbringing [as a Christian] obviously influences that.”16
While many nonreligious scientists demonstrate relational humility, treating their colleagues and students with respect and taking the time to encourage them, care for them, and learn from them (I want to make it clear that I have experienced deep care from my own academic colleagues who profess no particular faith), I found that Christian scientists tend to articulate faith-based reasons for a humble approach in their relationships with colleagues and students. In other words, many Christian scientists display a specific kind of relational humility in the workplace that they derive from their faith. They turn what to them is a Christian virtue into a scientific virtue also.
Some Christian scientists also discussed how important it is for scientists to treat the public with humility and respect, including religious believers. One Christian scientist, for example, described how she tries to share her scientific work with people of faith who are outside the science community in a way that is both understandable and respectful. As she explained,
I can look at [natural principles] and just experience this amazing awe-piece that I was actually able to kind of put a name on, which I was like, wow, God did this, but look how cool these intricacies of how he made it work are. And so, for me, that gave that piece extra meaning. . . . Being able to share that with people in a way that is friendly to their religious predispositions is very important to me. I want the scientific message to be palatable, you know, and meet them where they’re at.17
Displaying this kind of relational and intellectual humility can only improve the relationship between scientific and faith communities. When scientists exercise humility in regard to the beliefs of faith communities, they have the opportunity to teach these communities, even if disagreement exists. And when religious people exercise humility toward scientists, they have an opportunity to learn more deeply how God creates and sustains life, even if that is not the exact language scientists use.
Miracles
Nearly half the evangelical Christians I interviewed “affirmed their belief in the miracles of the Bible.”18 And when I surveyed evangelical Christians, in particular, about personal miraculous experiences, more than 39 percent reported witnessing a “miraculous, physical healing,” and more than 23 percent reported experiencing one themselves.19 For some Christians, believing in miracles is one way they practice humility. They remain open to the idea that there are events, phenomena, and healings that only God could create or explain.
But most scientists do not believe in miracles. In fact, only 36 percent of rank-and-file scientists agree to some degree that scientists should be open to considering miracles in their theories and explanations.20 This belief is even less common among scientists who work in research universities. While, as we’ve seen, the majority of scientists take a humble approach to science—they do not believe that science will one day be able to provide a natural explanation for everything—the vast majority of scientists are also unwilling to consider or credit miracles for what we cannot yet explain or understand by natural causes. One evangelical Christian scientist I spoke with inhaled deeply and said, “I guess as a scientist I say, ‘Well, there are things in the past that we couldn’t explain that we can explain today.’ And we say, ‘Oh, now we know that the Northern Lights are not the hand of God directly . . . on the atmosphere. But no, they are the way that the sun’s light is reflected through the atmosphere at this . . . longitude and latitude and so forth.’”21 Thus even evangelical scientists demonstrate difficulty in acknowledging the existence of miracles.
At the same time, studies show that some Christian scientists do allow for the possibility of miracles. In fact, 55 percent of evangelical Christian rank-and-file scientists agree to some extent that scientists should be open to considering miracles in their theories and explanations.22 “What I do think is that, you know, there’s always the thing that occurs that you just never could have foreseen,” a Christian physician told me. He said, “It kind of defies the natural history of the disease, if you will, or the process you would have been able to predict. . . . And the outcome’s like 99 percent it should have been this, but it happened, that happened. And so that’s challenging. . . . So the patient who is never supposed to survive—you know, metastatic disease, this is an experimental therapy, we’re not sure it’s going to work, and they’re cured. That’s a miracle!”23
A professor of physics I interviewed said, “I believe that miracles of all scales, including very small ones, happen, but that they happen as a way of God serving—or God being at work in the world—through, you know, in a way that communicates something to us.” But she also believes such miracles are rare. She asked, “One miracle each day compared to all the things that happen according to the natural, normal functioning of the creation, that’s a small amount, right?” She believes “that God created our universe with a rich, ordered structure to it” and that while God has complete control over the laws of nature, most of the time God “respects the kind of integrity of the creation,” allowing the world to function as expected by natural law. When things occur that science cannot explain and appear to be miracles, she sees them as a direct act of God. “It’s not just sort of random—God just sort of showing off, ‘Oh, I can make the universe function not according to law,’” she said, “but it’s for events that carry significance.”24 I remember the words of James, a Christian physicist who told me, “In the end, I need science, from my perspective as a scientist, to then make me understand that the scientifically impossible makes Jesus Christ’s resurrection so extraordinary and substantiates his claim that he is the Son of God and that he died for our sins and is resurrected just as we have hope in the resurrection.”25
Sharing Humility
Humility can help foster constructive dialogue between scientists and Christians by helping both sides respect the other’s beliefs and open their minds to learning something new from each other. One Christian biologist I interviewed said he felt the relationship between science and religion would improve if there were greater willingness to consider other viewpoints that may challenge previously held beliefs. “I think what’s really going on is that there’s so much anxiety in the church. . . . There’s such a lack of confidence, frankly [chuckles], that anything that—that destabilizes it, including an authentic Christian who just thinks differently about something, becomes very dangerous for people—it’s very emotional,” he said.26 A Christian professor of immunology described constructive discussions on the relationship between science and religion that he was able to have because of his humble approach. “You see people across this whole continuum—I’m sure you have as well—who, you know, they’re comfortable with where they are; they don’t feel threatened or challenged by discussing it,” he said. He went on to tell me, “But they’re also like, ‘I’ve got beliefs. I’m willing to be open to change. I’m willing to dialogue. I’m willing to hear your opinion. I want to tell you mine. I want to challenge you. I want you to challenge me.’ And so I’ve had those discussions with people who are atheists or agnostics, and they’ve actually been very, very gratifying.”27
If we Christians hope for humility from scientists—regarding the limits of scientific knowledge and respect for other ways of knowing—we must begin by modeling humility ourselves, a virtue that is at the core of our faith. We, too, must respect beliefs that are different from our own, accept that some of our conclusions might be wrong, recognize that we are all imperfect in our knowledge, and embrace that there is much that science can offer faith and our understanding of the world without undermining our faith. By taking a humble approach, we can begin to build bridges between science and faith.