John Hedley Brooke - Science and Religion

In a classic discussion of the origins of modern science, the historian Herbert Butterfield drew a much-quoted parallel. Such was the impact of the seventeenth-century Scientific Revolution that the only landmark with which it could be compared was the rise of Christianity. In shaping the values of Western societies, science and the Christian religion had each played a preeminent part and made a lasting impression. Exaggerated or not, such comparisons raise an obvious question. What was the relationship between these powerful cultural forces? Were they complementary in their effects, or were they antagonistic? Did religious movements assist the emergence of the scientific movement, or was there a power struggle from the start? Were scientific and religious beliefs constantly at variance, or were they perhaps more commonly integrated, both by clergy and by practicing men of science? How has the relationship changed over time?

Such questions are easier to formulate than to answer. Since the seventeenth century every generation has taken a view on their importance without, however, reaching any consensus as to how they should be answered. Writing some sixty years ago, the philosopher A. N. Whitehead considered that the future course of history would depend on the decision of his generation as to the proper relations between science and religion so powerful were the religious symbols through which men and women conferred meaning on their lives, and so powerful the scientific models through which they could manipulate their environment. Because every generation has reappraised the issues, if not always with the same sense of urgency, there has been no shortage of opinion as to what that proper relationship should be.

In popular literature three positions are commonly found, which, though not equally unsatisfactory, turn out to be problematic. One often encounters the view that there is an underlying conflict between scientific and religious mentalities, the one dealing in testable facts, the other deserting reason for faith; the one relishing change as scientific understanding advances, the other finding solace in eternal verities. Where such a view holds sway, it is assumed that historical analysis provides supporting evidence of territorial squabbles in which cosmologies constructed in the name of religion have been forced into retreat by more sophisticated theories coming from science. The nineteenth-century scholars J. W. Draper and A. D. White constructed catalogs of this kind, in which scientific explanations repeatedly challenged religious sensibilities, in which ecclesiastics invariably protested at the presumption, and in which the scientists would have the last laugh.

Typical was Whites account of the reluctance of the clergy to fix lightning rods to their churches. In 1745 the bell tower of St. Marks in Venice had once again been shattered in a storm. Within ten years, Benjamin Franklin had mastered the electrical nature of lightning. His conducting rod could have saved many a church from that divine voice of rebuke, which thunder had often been supposed to be. But White reported that such meddling with providence, such presumption in controlling the artillery of heaven, was opposed so long by clerical authorities that the tower of St. Marks was smitten again in 1761 and 1762. Not until 1766 was the conductor fixed after which the monument was spared. Whites picture of religious scruples and shattered towers symbolizes the popular notion of an intrinsic and perennial conflict. An ounce of scientific knowledge could be more effective in controlling the forces of nature than any amount of supplication.

Figure Int.1. Francesco Guardi (171293), Venice Piazza San Marco . Dating from c. 1760, this painting shows St. Marks Cathedral and its bell tower. Reproduced by courtesy of the Trustees, The National Gallery, London.