In this age of specialization men who thoroughly
know one field are often incompetent to discuss
another. The great problems of the relations
between one and another aspect of human activity
have for this reason been discussed less and
less in public. When we look at the past great
debates on these subjects we feel jealous
of those times, for we should have liked the
excitement of such argument. The old problems,
such as the relation of science and religion,
are still with us, and I believe present as
difficult dilemmas as ever, but they are not
often publicly discussed because of the limitations
of specialization.
But I have been interested in this problem
for a long time and would like to discuss
it. In view of my very evident lack of knowledge
and understanding of religion (a lack which
will grow more apparent as we proceed), I
will organize the discussion in this way:
I will suppose that not one man but a group
of men are discussing the problem, that the
group consists of specialists in many fields
 – the various sciences, the various religions
and so on – and that we are going to discuss
the problem from various sides, like a panel.
Each is to give his point of view, which may
be molded and modified by the later discussion.
Further, I imagine that someone has been chosen
by lot to be the first to present his views,
and I am he so chosen.
I would start by presenting the panel with
a problem: A young man, brought up in a religious
family, studies a science, and as a result
he comes to doubt – and perhaps later to
disbelieve in – his father's God. Now, this
is not an isolated example; it happens time
and time again. Although I have no statistics
on this, I believe that many scientists – in
fact, I actually believe that more than half
of the scientists – really disbelieve in
their father's God; that is, they don't believe
in a God in a conventional sense.
Now, since the belief in a God is a central
feature of religion, this problem that I have
selected points up most strongly the problem
of the relation of science and religion. Why
does this young man come to disbelieve?
The first answer we might hear is very simple:
You see, he is taught by scientists, and (as
I have just pointed out) they are all atheists
at heart, so the evil is spread from one to
another. But if you can entertain this view,
I think you know less of science than I know
of religion.
Another answer may be that a little knowledge
is dangerous; this young man has learned a
little bit and thinks he knows it all, but
soon he will grow out of this sophomoric sophistication
and come to realize that the world is more
complicated, and he will begin again to understand
that there must be a God.
I don't think it is necessary that he come
out of it. There are many scientists – men
who hope to call themselves mature – who
still don't believe in God. In fact, as I
would like to explain later, the answer is
not that the young man thinks he knows it
all – it is the exact opposite.
A third answer you might get is that this
young man really doesn't understand science
correctly. I do not believe that science can
disprove the existence of God; I think that
is impossible. And if it is impossible, is
not a belief in science and in a God – an
ordinary God of religion — a consistent
possibility?
Yes, it is consistent. Despite the fact that
I said that more than half of the scientists
don't believe in God, many scientists do believe
in both science and God, in a perfectly consistent
way. But this consistency, although possible,
is not easy to attain, and I would like to
try to discuss two things: Why it is not easy
to attain, and whether it is worth attempting
to attain it.
When I say "believe in God," of course, it
is always a puzzle – what is God? What I
mean is the kind of personal God, characteristic
of the western religions, to whom you pray
and who has something to do with creating
the universe and guiding you in morals.
For the student, when he learns about science,
there are two sources of difficulty in trying
to weld science and religion together. The
first source of difficulty is this – that
it is imperative in science to doubt; it is
absolutely necessary, for progress in science,
to have uncertainty as a fundamental part
of your inner nature. To make progress in
understanding we must remain modest and allow
that we do not know. Nothing is certain or
proved beyond all doubt. You investigate for
curiosity, because it is unknown, not because
you know the answer. And as you develop more
information in the sciences, it is not that
you are finding out the truth, but that you
are finding out that this or that is more
or less likely.
That is, if we investigate further, we find
that the statements of science are not of
what is true and what is not true, but statements
of what is known to different degrees of certainty:
"It is very much more likely that so and so
is true than that it is not true;" or "such
and such is almost certain but there is still
a little bit of doubt;" or – at the other
extreme – "well, we really don't know."
Every one of the concepts of science is on
a scale graduated somewhere between, but at
neither end of, absolute falsity or absolute
truth.
It is necessary, I believe, to accept this
idea, not only for science, but also for other
things; it is of great value to acknowledge
ignorance. It is a fact that when we make
decisions in our life we don't necessarily
know that we are making them correctly; we
only think that we are doing the best we can
 – and that is what we should do.
I think that when we know that we actually
do live in uncertainty, then we ought to admit
it; it is of great value to realize that we
do not know the answers to different questions.
This attitude of mind – this attitude of
uncertainty – is vital to the scientist,
and it is this attitude of mind which the
student must first acquire. It becomes a habit
of thought. Once acquired, one cannot retreat
from it any more.
What happens, then, is that the young man
begins to doubt everything because he cannot
have it as absolute truth. So the question
changes a little bit from "Is there a God?"
to "How sure is it that there is a God?" This
very subtle change is a great stroke and represents
a parting of the ways between science and
religion. I do not believe a real scientist
can ever believe in the same way again. Although
there are scientists who believe in God, I
do not believe that they think of God in the
same way as religious people do. If they are
consistent with their science, I think that
they say something like this to themselves:
"I am almost certain there is a God. The doubt
is very small." That is quite different from
saying, "I know that there is a God." I do
not believe that a scientist can ever obtain
that view – that really religious understanding,
that real knowledge that there is a God – that
absolute certainty which religious people
have.
Of course this process of doubt does not always
start by attacking the question of the existence
of God. Usually special tenets, such as the
question of an after-life, or details of the
religious doctrine, such as details of Christ's
life, come under scrutiny first. It is more
interesting, however, to go right into the
central problem in a frank way, and to discuss
the more extreme view which doubts the existence
of God.
Once the question has been removed from the
absolute, and gets to sliding on the scale
of uncertainty, it may end up in very different
positions. In many cases it comes out very
close to being certain. But on the other hand,
for some, the net result of close scrutiny
of the theory his father held of God may be
the claim that it is almost certainly wrong.
That brings us to the second difficulty our
student has in trying to weld science and
religion: Why does it often end up that the
belief in God – at least, the God of the
religious type – is considered to be very
unreasonable, very unlikely? I think that
the answer has to do with the scientific things
 – the facts or partial facts – that the
man learns.
For instance, the size of the universe is
very impressive, with us on a tiny particle
whirling around the sun, among a hundred thousand
million suns in this galaxy, itself among
a billion galaxies.
Again, there is the close relation of biological
man to the animals, and of one form of life
to another. Man is a latecomer in a vast evolving
drama; can the rest be but a scaffolding for
his creation?
Yet again, there are the atoms of which all
appears to be constructed, following immutable
laws. Nothing can escape it; the stars are
made of the same stuff, and the animals are
made of the same stuff, but in such complexity
as to mysteriously appear alive – like man
himself.
It is a great adventure to contemplate the
universe beyond man, to think of what it means
without man – as it was for the great part
of its long history, and as it is in the great
majority of places. When this objective view
is finally attained, and the mystery and majesty
of matter are appreciated, to then turn the
objective eye back on man viewed as matter,
to see life as part of the universal mystery
of greatest depth, is to sense an experience
which is rarely described. It usually ends
in laughter, delight in the futility of trying
to understand. These scientific views end
in awe and mystery, lost at the edge in uncertainty,
but they appear to be so deep and so impressive
that the theory that it is all arranged simply
as a stage for God to watch man's struggle
for good and evil seems to be inadequate.
So let us suppose that this is the case of
our particular student, and the conviction
grows so that he believes that individual
prayer, for example, is not heard. (I am not
trying to disprove the reality of God; I am
trying to give you some idea of – some sympathy
for – the reasons why many come to think
that prayer is meaningless.) Of course, as
a result of this doubt, the pattern of doubting
is turned next to ethical problems, because,
in the religion which he learned, moral problems
were connected with the word of God, and if
the God doesn't exist, what is his word? But
rather surprisingly, I think, the moral problems
ultimately come out relatively unscathed;
at first perhaps the student may decide that
a few little things were wrong, but he often
reverses his opinion later, and ends with
no fundamentally different moral view.
There seems to be a kind of independence in
these ideas. In the end, it is possible to
doubt the divinity of Christ, and yet to believe
firmly that it is a good thing to do unto
your neighbor as you would have him do unto
you. It is possible to have both these views
at the same time; and I would say that I hope
you will find that my atheistic scientific
colleagues often carry themselves well in
society.
I would like to remark, in passing, since
the word "atheism" is so closely connected
with "communism," that the communist views
are the antithesis of the scientific, in the
sense that in communism the answers are given
to all the questions – political questions
as well as moral ones – without discussion
and without doubt. The scientific viewpoint
is the exact opposite of this; that is, all
questions must be doubted and discussed; we
must argue everything out – observe things,
check them, and so change them. The democratic
government is much closer to this idea, because
there is discussion and a chance of modification.
One doesn't launch the ship in a definite
direction. It is true that if you have a tyranny
of ideas, so that you know exactly what has
to be true, you act very decisively, and it
looks good – for a while. But soon the ship
is heading in the wrong direction, and no
one can modify the direction any more. So
the uncertainties of life in a democracy are,
I think, much more consistent with science.
Although science makes some impact on many
religious ideas, it does not affect the moral
content. Religion has many aspects; it answers
all kinds of questions. First, for example,
it answers questions about what things are,
where they come from, what man is, what God
is – the properties of God, and so on. Let
me call this the metaphysical aspect of religion.
It also tells us another thing – how to
behave. Leave out of this the idea of how
to behave in certain ceremonies, and what
rites to perform; I mean it tells us how to
behave in life in general, in a moral way.
It gives answers to moral questions; it gives
a moral and ethical code. Let me call this
the ethical aspect of religion.
Now, we know that, even with moral values
granted, human beings are very weak; they
must be reminded of the moral values in order
that they may be able to follow their consciences.
It is not simply a matter of having a right
conscience; it is also a question of maintaining
strength to do what you know is right. And
it is necessary that religion give strength
and comfort and the inspiration to follow
these moral views. This is the inspirational
aspect of religion. It gives inspiration not
only for moral conduct – it gives inspiration
for the arts and for all kinds of great thoughts
and actions as well.
