What if we just didn't fight?

At the start of this year, I fully intended to write up some thoughts and reflections on the centennial of the Scopes Trial, which took place right here in Dayton, TN in July of 1925.  I also agreed to give a presentation on the history of creationism for the Scopes Centennial symposium "Evolving Conflict," so it wasn't just a matter of writing up some thoughts.  I had a deadline!

Now, I've lived here in Dayton for 25 years, always less than five miles from the courtroom where the trial took place.  I've read more about the trial than I can even remember.  I met people who were there and descendants of people who were there.  Core Academy has its own historical archives related to the trial.  I've given more tours of the courthouse than I can count.  To say I'm familiar with the trial is kind of an understatement.  Surely I would have something thoughtful to say about it after all these years!

Then I found myself quite simply at a loss.  I wanted to say something intelligent and meaningful based on the trial, to distill its complexity into a simple message.  Like the trial though, my thoughts are complex and immensely conflicted.  I re-read through parts of the trial transcript, sections of Bryan's writings, original newspaper articles from 1925, period creationist books from before and after the trial, and other people's commentaries.  I even, for the first time in almost a decade, agreed to talk to a national reporter about the trial (I don't usually do that).  None of this work helped me find any clarity.  For every moral or message I could think of, there was always another side.  There was nothing simple about the Scopes Trial.

That is perhaps the most important thing to understand about the trial.  It was about many different things all at once.  Each person involved had different goals and objectives.  They brought their own biases and hopes to the trial.  As much as I get annoyed when someone tries to reduce the trial to religion vs science, that really was one dimension of what happened there.  But the trial was also about whether teachers or parents get to control what's taught in the classroom.  It was also about populism vs minority rights.  It was also about trying to bring an economic boost to a town struggling with a mine closure.  It was a serious examination of the merits of Tennessee's anti-evolution law, but it was also a kind of circus of mostly out-of-town hucksters and spectators trying to make a buck.  For the local prosecutors, it was just another misdemeanor trial, but the reporters who came to town wanted it to be so much more, the trial of the century.  For Darrow, it was a personal showdown with the fundamentalist religion of William Jennings Bryan.  For Bryan, it was a public stand against the wickedness of the modern age.

And yes, it was about creation vs evolution too, but that came up not as frequently as you might imagine.  The word "creationist" was only used three times in the entire trial transcript, all three in the written statement provided by Professor Horatio H. Newman of the University of Chicago.  He used it in the Darwinian sense, as a kind of foil to contrast with evolution.  More frequently, contenders at the trial portrayed this more broadly as religion vs evolution.

Running through all these facets is the unstated assumption that we must fight, and that unstated assumption is where I finally found what I'd been looking for all year. Bryan's public crusade made it very clear that evolution threatened both the Christian religion and public morality in general.  Creationists had made similar claims for decades before Bryan took up the cause.  What Bryan brought to the controversy was the very public fight.  He took what was relatively obscure and gave it a national platform.  As a politician, he sought to use public opinion to force evolution out of the schools.  Bryan taught us to fight, and I've seen essays commemorating the centennial calling on Christians and creationists to continue that fight.

But what if we didn't?

I don't mean we should stop being creationists or stop thinking about science or stop exploring hard problems or even stop talking about and promoting our views.  But what if we just dialed down the rhetoric?  What if we stopped repeating Bryan's claim that all of civilization is at stake in this debate?  What if we tried to treat people like we want to be treated?  Show some respect and kindness even in the midst of our disagreement?

I know this is not a popular message today.  The current historical moment favors power and force and even a little violence "if necessary."  But that's not how I want to be treated.  I'd like some respect, some compassion, the simple pleasure of shared enthusiasm for scientific discovery.  That's how I want to live, and that's how I need to treat other people too.  I don't always succeed, but I need to try.

And before you tell me that my approach "doesn't work," just remember these are the commands of Jesus.  Treating others the way you want to be treated?  That's straight out of the Sermon on the Mount.   "Love your enemy" is in the same sermon.

Now it's possible that some day, maybe some day soon, widespread force and violence will be unavoidable in our culture, but I don't have to be part of that.  And I don't have to contribute to it either.

Love God.

Love your neighbor.

Love your enemy.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

Seems pretty straightforward to me.

Feedback? Email me at toddcharleswood [at] gmail [dot] com. If you enjoyed this article, please consider a contribution to Core Academy of Science. Thank you.

Have you read my book?  You should check that out too!