Life and Death in the Galapagos

Contributed by:

Peter Dodson

Professor of Anatomy - School of Veterinary Medicine

Professor of Earth and Environmental Science - School of Arts and Sciences

University of Pennsylvania
Institute Advisory Committee Member

In November I had the surpassing pleasure of participating in Penn Alumni Travel to the Peruvian Amazon, Machu Picchu and the Galapagos. Although I might otherwise been occupied in the classroom, I was unable to resist the allure of such exotic terrain. Dawn and I are both enthusiastic bird watchers and jumped at the chance to add colorful tropical birds to our life lists. Even at Iquitos, Peru the Amazon is an immense river, a highway in the jungle. Ensconced at Ceiba Tops Lodge 25 miles downstream we had a perfect venue for observing tapirs, pink river dolphins, saddle-back tamarins, tarantulas, neon blue morpho butterflies, etc. We fished for piranhas (which unfailingly clean hooks lowered into the murky water within 5 seconds). But truly it was the beautiful birds that engaged us like nothing else: bold black and yellow oropendolas, and cassiques, showy blue dacnis, the enigmatic great pitou, ubiquitous yellow-headed caracaras, and so on. We spent a day in the metropolis of Lima, where we saw the tombs of both St. Martin de Porres and St. Rose of Lima, the Mother Theresa of her day. Pressing deep into the Andes we spent several days admiring the Incas for their administrative and engineering prowess as they constructed their short-lived empire before crumbling before the might of the Spaniards. Machu Picchu is impressive beyond imagining, a city in the clouds, a Yosemite in the tropics. And great birds there too!

A Buddhist Banquet

Contributed by:

Peter Dodson

Professor of Anatomy - School of Veterinary Medicine

Professor of Earth and Environmental Science - School of Arts and Sciences

University of Pennsylvania
Institute Advisory Committee Member

I was invited to participate in an important symposium held at West Chester University on April 25 – 25, 2013, entitled “Science, Religion and Asian Thought.” It was organized by Professor Frank Hoffman, an IRS board member, and visiting scholar Hongmei Liu of Beijing and co-sponsored by the Institute for Religion and Science. During the meeting I met two monks from the Beijing Long Quan Buddhist Monastery, Master Xian Wei and Master Xian Qi. These two expressed interest in my work, and encouraged me to visit the Long Quan Monastery on my next trip to China.

Happily, the opportunity presented itself on June 21. I was accompanied by my former student, Dr. You Hailu, now senior scientist at the Institute for Vertebrate Paleontology and Paleoanthropology in Beijing. As senior scientist as well as Hailu’s mentor, I enjoy special respect in Chinese society. At the monastery this is enhanced by the fact that Hailu is himself Buddhist.

By the time we arrived after an hour's drive we were out in the country and a range of low pink granite mountains loomed before us. The monastery is well above the plain we had driven across (Beijing being flat) and obscured by trees so we had no view of it as we approached. Longquan Buddhist Monastery is nestled against the granite peaks of the Feng Huang (Phoenix) Mountains northwest of Beijing. The monastery was founded about 950 AD as Buddhism spread across China and flourished for a thousand years before it fell victim to the Cultural Revolution and was largely demolished. The thousand-year-old bridge Golden Dragon Bridge survives, as do a magnificent pair of gingkoes. (Legend has it that gingkoes nearly became extinct and survived only in the emperor's garden before being discovered by Western botanists; these splendid trees suggest otherwise!). The monastery has now been rebuilt in its original form and is a very impressive complex of lovely and substantial stone buildings. It re-opened in 2006 and now is an active monastery with 100 monks. I suppose that number includes novices, who wear gray robes instead of the yellow-brown robes of the mature monks. There are also 200 volunteers, male and female, who aid in numerous activities including construction, which is on-going, food preparation, laundry, manufacture of clothing, and farming. Volunteers stay for 6 months to several years, and some males end up becoming monks. The buildings feel, well, monastic! Long corridors, stairwells with carved wood, windows with lovely views. We were taken on a tour by a layman, and we didn't actually see many monks. They all have their assigned activities during the day. We saw where they eat and where they pray, but we did not see them. There were amusing anomalies: a computer room with a high tech biosecurity fingerprint scanner at the door—but the door was propped open. No sooner were we told that the monks do not read newspapers and are more or less detached from the world than we entered the library and saw newspapers on the rack. I think computer use and library use is limited.

The abbot, Venerable Xuecheng, whom we did not meet, is very well educated, obviously charismatic and anything but detached. The monastery is approved by the government, like the Patriotic Catholic Church, and he is shrewd enough to be fully cooperative with the government, receiving official visitors from the government and participating in government committees and conferences. He is very forward thinking and feels it is incumbent on the monastery to use 21st century technologies to spread the message of Buddhism. He began blogging in 2006, and his blog now goes out in eight languages. Buddhist charities are many, a fixture of downtown Beijing, and directed towards feeding needy children and old folks among others. They were also active in earthquake relief in Sichuan in 2008. Many of the monks are well educated, with degrees from Peking University ("Beida") and Tsinghua University, the Harvard and Princeton of China, respectively. Buddhist tenets of peace, tranquillity, respect for life and harmony hardly threaten to undermine the State!

After the tour we were received by Venerable Master Chanxing, who has a Ph.D. in mechanical physics from Tsinghua. We sat in a receiving room and he and I had a lengthy and interesting discussion about science and religion, with Hailu translating. I began by giving a précis of my talk, and then he probed differences between Buddhist views and Judaeo-Christian views. I emphasized the view of Genesis that the material world is good, doubting that Buddhists trusted the material world sufficiently. He countered that science is appropriate for Buddhists because science serves people and service is a Buddhist imperative. He asked me if I affirmed the separateness of the internal and external worlds (I do) and he affirmed the Buddhist emphasis on the internal world as paramount and the external objective world being inseparable from the internal. He cited the subjectivity of quantum physics in support of this view. It was most interesting conversation. One question I asked: is Buddhism a philosophy, as many claim, or a religion? The latter he said, and Hailu agreed. So do I.

At lunch we were taken to a private dining room. Chanxing was apologetic that the fare was entirely vegetarian, which troubled no one. We began with a modest four dishes on the table, and I thought this was Spartan indeed, but perfectly appropriate. Was I mistaken! A bread course came midway through the meal and I took it to be the end. It was only the halfway point! The food kept coming and coming. I lost count. It must have been between 15 and 20 dishes before the final watermelon came. Amazing and delicious. I never dreamed that I would leave the table stuffed from a vegetarian banquet! I know that Chanxing did not eat like that on a regular basis. He told us he got up at 4 a.m., joined the monks at 4:30 for an hour of communal prayer, ate breakfast at 6 a.m. and then went about his work at 7 a.m. I told him, and I was quite serious, that this was not so very different from my day. I get up at four, drive to work, work until 7:20, go to the Newman Center to pray, and then eat my breakfast at 8 or later. He eats lunch at 11 and then naps at 12. I do not nap and go to bed not too much later than 9 p.m.whereas he sleeps at 11 p.m.

Speaking of naps, following lunch we were shown to guest rooms—I shared one with Hailu (very clean, like everything we saw, but very Spartan) and given an opportunity for a rest. With birds singing in the courtyard, some hammering construction and chanting in the background I did not think I would manage to sleep but I was quite startled when I was awakened at 1:50. Time for the show. I had already turned over my PowerPoint to Chanxing. I was told to wait a moment before entering the room. When I walked into the back the audience was standing and clapping as I walked to the table at the front. If that doesn't give you a head rush, I don't know what would! I needed someone to walk behind me whispering in my ear, "Remember, you are only man." I sat at a table on a low platform center front. The screen was to my left, and Hailu sat at a small table at floor level to translate. The audience numbered about 50, with monks at the front on both sides, novices behind them and lay volunteers behind them. The talk went well, and is one I have given a number of times. I spoke for an hour and 15 minutes, which I thought was pretty crisp considering that every word was translated. Hailu did an excellent job—we had rehearsed the night before and he looked up a number of words to be ready for real time translation. The talk was to be followed by Q & A. I held my breath because how else would I know how it was received? At first the monks were shy but soon one asked and then another and another. The session went on for another hour, with questions coming from all over the room. What did I like best about Buddhism? What did I like about Christianity (three times in different ways)? Was evolution good or bad? How did humans evolve? Can you prove the existence of God?

It was quite a remarkable session and certainly a great opportunity for intercultural and interfaith understanding. We ended the session only because we had to drive back to Beijing before traffic got too crazy. My departure was likewise marked by standing applause—what a great country! I am grateful to my God for the great opportunity to share in such rare intercultural dialogue that enriches my spirit.

Enduring Dawkins

Contributed by: Peter Dodson, Ph.D., University of Pennsylvania

As an evolutionary biologist and paleontologist I have known Richard Dawkins as an author throughout my professional career, and I have contributed steadily to his book royalties since 1977, when he published his wonderfully stimulating The Selfish Gene. I have heard him speak in Philadelphia on three occasions, once at Swarthmore College, once at the Free Library of Philadelphia, and now most lately on my own campus at the University of Pennsylvania on Tuesday March 12-13, 2013. The host organization was the Philomathean Society, which calls itself the oldest literary society in America, celebrating its 200th birthday. Dawkins is a brilliant writer and his expositions of evolution by natural selection are models of clarity and lucidness. I have especially enjoyed and have frequently recommended to students and colleagues The Blind Watchmaker and Climbing Mount Improbable. Dawkins has rarely been free of controversy, which he seems to embrace happily. Stephen Jay Gould criticized Dawkins for his narrow reliance on natural selection as the sole mechanism for evolution, a charge that Dawkins vigorously disputed. A master of physics, Dawkins has shown increasing fondness for metaphysics. He has now become the leading scientific atheist of our time, author of the best-selling The God Delusion.

As a theistic evolutionist and a devout Christian, I am far from being a big fan of Dawkins. His engagement with Christianity is superficial and highly polemical. His knock out argument for the extreme improbability of God is an incoherent evolutionary scenario by which a more complex God evolves incrementally from a simpler one. Atheism has a long and honorable tradition—perhaps it deserves better than Dawkins, the apostle of atheism lite. I always feel that Dawkins is selling marijuana brownies to the unsuspecting. He fails to draw out the full implications of atheism. Bertrand Russell gave an indication of its abyss with the phrase "unyielding despair." For a serious atheist like Albert Camus, the most urgent existential question is why not commit suicide?

Although I was not particularly happy with the notion of Dawkins up close and personal, it certainly has the ability to become a teaching moment. Dawkins brings religion front and center for discussion, and this is not necessarily a bad thing. As an openly professing Christian faculty member I was invited to participate in two panels in the aftermath of the visit. The first was two nights later and was sponsored by Penn Faculty-Staff Christian Forum and a variety of other like-minded campus groups. The second panel was the following week and was sponsored by the Philomathean Society itself, the host organization for Dawkins. It was encumbent on me to be as well prepared for these events as I could be. In the weeks before I spent as much time as I could in preparation. Most helpfully I read Jonathan Sack's magisterial book The Great Partnership: Science, Religion, and the Search for Meaning, Rev. David Robertson's scrappy The Dawkins Letters: Challenging Atheist Myths, which is a chapter-by-chapter commentary on The God Delusion. Oh yes, and I read The Magic of Reality: How We Know What Is really True, Dawkins' latest book.

The long-awaited presentation took place in the 1500-seat Irvine Auditorium on Penn campus, which Dawkins easily filled to overflowing. At least one enthusiast traveled from Atlanta and planned to stand outside in the spring chill for five hours in hopes of gaining admission (he was treated with Christian charity by student organizer and Dawkins-host Paul Mitchell and granted a complimentary ticket. The talk was really part of a book tour promoting The Magic of Reality. I found the book surprisingly boring. It is intended as a children's book but I failed to find charm in its pages, and likewise I failed to find charm in his talk. It was delivered in a perfunctory manner with unimpressive visuals and a palpable sense of ennui. He is justifiably famous for two things, his exposition of evolution by natural selection and his evangelical brand of atheism. He delivered on neither. Nonetheless, in the Q & A afterwards the vintage feisty Dawkins was on full display.

The next day I attended an afternoon discussion with Dawkins in the cozy Philomathean digs in College Hall. In the social beforehand Dawkins came up to me and introduced himself. "Hello," he said. "I am Richard Dawkins." I assured him that I knew who he was. I introduced myself to him as a paleontologist and a theistic evolutionist. He chose not to engage with that but continued around the room on his rounds. I did not expect him to be impressed with me—he considers the likes of me as "fleas." The questions in the afternoon ranged from biological arcana to some aspects of his atheism. One of his answers I found especially interesting. He was asked about religious art and music from previous ages. He readily admitted to their beauty but he pointed out that Michelangelo and Bach produced religious art because that is where the money was. And might we not suggest that Dawkins has gone to atheism because that is where the money is? He has profited very handsomely indeed from his career as an evangelical in that field and is a millionaire many times over. Another annoying Dawkinism is that he interprets the intentions of other authors. For example, of arch-rival Stephen Jay Gould, whose book, Rocks of Ages: Science and Religion in the Fullness of Life gores Dawkins' ox, Dawkins wrote, "Gould could not possibly have meant what he wrote." This surely is a dangerous game to play. Can we not equally say, "Surely Dawkins cannot have meant what he wrote!" That evening Christian nephrologist Ray Townsend, MD and I attended a Philomathean dinner for Dawkins at the University Museum. We dined under the unblinking gaze of a stern granite Sphinx in the elegant Lower Egyptian Gallery. The elegant dinner was quite informal, with no receiving line and no speeches. Ray and I were content to let Dawkins be surrounded by his young admirers, while we enjoyed the company of several mature archeologists. I am certain that Dawkins was none the poorer for being deprived of our conversation.

Thursday night Ray and I were joined by cardiologist and ethicist Jim Kirkpatrick, MD and law school colleague David Skeel. We drew an evening crowd of about 150 to the Wharton School, where we four Christian faculty presented an anti-Dawkins program entitled "Same Data, Different Conclusions." Dave DeHuff, campus minister with Faculty Commons and coordinator of the Penn Faculty-Staff Christian Forum, moderated the discussion. It was almost difficult to begin because Dawkins had diverted from his usual form and offered remarkably little red meat for us to attack. Nonetheless the largely but not entirely friendly audience threw wide ranging questions at the panel, and all four of us were still standing at the end. One of the questions I was called upon to handle concerned doubt in a believer's life. I responded that doubt is a sign of authenticity in the spiritual life, and that great Christian mystics including John of the Cross, St. Theresa of Lisieux and the beloved Mother Theresa of Calcutta have all suffered from doubt. Famously even Jean-Paul Sartre suffered from the temptation to believe! It is the sign of a mind that is still alive. The feedback has been positive from believers. It is good for students to know that there are many believers among the faculty. I like to point out that I know believers in every school and department with which I have been associated across the campus.

After three consecutive nights on campus, I finally on the weekend was able to reintroduce myself to my wife and relax, but I had one more event to go. The following Monday I was a panelist at the Philomathean Society, along with Rabbi Jack Cohen from Hillel and Gordon Bermant, a Buddhist who teaches a course in psychology and religion. Rabbi Jack studied physics and philosophy at Penn before pursuing his rabbinical training. Gordon had serial careers in experimental psychology and law before coming to Penn in "retirement" to teach. It seemed that a Philomathean audience had the potential to be less than cordial to those who preached the benefits of "organized religion" but the mood of the evening was upbeat and we had plenty of friendly faces in the audience. My two colleagues were more than equal to the task, and it was an evening of stimulating conversation. I can barely remember what I said—I hope it bordered on coherent. Each of us was asked at the beginning whether we could imagine a scientific discovery that would undermine our religious faith. None of us could. We each answered a series of structured questions from our Philomathean host. I remember discussing altruism, which surely has a biological basis but which in humans outstrips any simple genetic explanation. I was actually shocked when the evening ended abruptly after 75 minutes and no pie had been thrown in my face.

I have lived with Dawkins in my face for many years. I was goaded into the religion and science debate 25 years ago when I met another evangelical atheist, Cornell University evolutionary biologist Will Provine. I certainly never agreed with Will but he made his case plainly and honestly; he never stooped to the tortured and emotional illogic and misinformation of Dawkins at his nadir. Along the way I have encountered many constructive voices in the debate between science and religion, which should never be at odds with each other. Dawkins has encountered two Christian colleagues at Oxford who are far from fleas: mathematician John Lennox and philosopher and theologian Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, each of whom has successfully debated Dawkins at Oxford. Sacks makes the strongest imaginable case for the value of religion, which he characterizes as a quintessential right-brained activity just as science is a classic left-brained activity. Science takes things apart and figures out how they work. Religion puts things together and figures out what things mean. A healthy society is one in which science and religion are in balance and neither tries to dominate the other. A Dawkinsian society is no more appealing than a Darwinian one. Let there be peace on earth and let us begin with me and with you.