1) From the pages of Der Spiegel there is a small retrospective of German media outlets and their judgment of Benedict XVI at World Youth Day in Cologne. There is more representation there of the kind of reduce-everything-to-politics blurred vision I've noted in the German newspapers dealing with this.
2) From The Washington Post last month we have the account of an evolutionary biologist who was dismissed from the Smithsonian Institute for chosing, in his role as the Editor of Proceedings of the Biological Society of Washington, to simply publish a Cambridge-educated philosopher of science's paper arguing in support of a theory of "intelligent design" in the biosphere. It's interesting not least as a glimpse into scientific politics. Post-modernists will feel satisfied.
Revising Pope PrejudicesPope Benedict XVI headed back to the Vatican on Sunday, but Germany is still suffering from a papal hangover. What did the visit to World Youth Day in Cologne achieve? More than you might think, argue German commentators.
Millions came to celebrate mass with Pope Benedict XVI in Cologne on Sunday.
Pope Benedict XVI may be back in Rome on Monday, but Germany is still, one day after native son Josef Ratzinger returned to the Vatican following his four-day visit to World Youth Day in Cologne, pondering over exactly what Benedict's first trip abroad meant for the Catholic Church and for Catholics in Germany. And indeed, the primary tone to be found in pope-related editorials in major German dailies on Monday is one of surprise. After all, most coverage of Benedict XVI since his April election has been rather on the negative side here in his country of birth -- and he was especially hammered for his late July faux pas of failing to mention attacks in Israel during a sermon on recent terror attacks. And yet, up to 1 million jubilant worshippers showed up to mass in Cologne on Sunday. German commentators struggle on Monday to provide an adequate evaluation of the pope's visit.
The conservative daily Die Welt comes through with perhaps the most thoughtful pope piece on Monday. Written by Gernot Facius, the editorial admits that Benedict's visit will not have made Germany any more Catholic. Nevertheless, "even the most obstinate critics of Catholicism have been forced overnight to make large changes to their outmoded views of the church." The mistake they have been making? Too often, Facius argues, the people who belong to the church are forgotten in favor of focusing attention on the rules and regulations coming out of the Vatican. Yet the enthusiastic masses in Cologne showed clearly that there is much more to the Catholic Church than merely pronouncements, warnings and authority from church elders. Countering the dogma is also the real life lived by the world's billion Catholics. And the paper makes the assertion that "never before has there been so much willingness -- also on the part of the bishops -- to respect the differences between dogma and life." This, Facius argues, is the spirit of Cologne and needs to be held on to. "The development of a large discrepancy between that which grew during the festive days in Cologne and that which is practiced at home must be averted."
The center-left Süddeutsche Zeitung likewise reacted positively to Benedict's visit and was particularly complimentary of the way the pope handled himself. Not that the paper was blown away by his rhetorical skills. "Benedict XVI, the master of the written word, didn't make much of an impression through what he said. His speeches were reserved and careful. The pope was, during his first trip abroad and accompanied by almost 8,000 journalists, intent on avoiding any kind of mistakes." Nevertheless, he was received positively by the hundreds of thousands who turned out in Cologne to see him -- partially, the paper argues, because he didn't try to imitate his charismatic predecessor, Pope John Paul II, and thus seemed more authentic. But also because he presented himself as a centrist. "He spoke to the center of the Catholic Church in his speeches." Perhaps the most important result of the visit, however, is the experience gained by Benedict himself. "The problems of the Catholic Church will not get any smaller following World Youth Day. The church will continue to lose members in Central Europe, will continue to have difficulties recruiting new priests and will still have aging congregations.... But maybe Benedict has flown back to Rome a changed man."
While that may be true, it is also true, writes the center-right Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung that it is not Pope Benedict who the masses were in Cologne to see. Rather, they were there to celebrate their faith. Indeed, the editorial seems to be pleading for a revision of years of John Paul II coverage. The assumption for years has been that the previous pope was particularly adept at drawing young people to the church. Yet in Cologne on Sunday, a mass of people showed up to celebrate mass with Benedict XVI. "Hundreds of thousands of believers came, mostly young adults -- the age group that has become so rare in the churches of the Western world." The piece concludes that it is not the person himself that the believers came to see; rather they came to see the leader of the Catholic Church. "That the masses cheered for him, must have satisfied (Benedict). Because the enthusiasm that accompanied him wherever he was seen was, first and foremost, for the function embodied by the German...."
Editor Explains Reasons for 'Intelligent Design' ArticleBy Michael Powell
Evolutionary biologist Richard Sternberg made a fateful decision a year ago.
As editor of the hitherto obscure Proceedings of the Biological Society of Washington, Sternberg decided to publish a paper making the case for "intelligent design," a controversial theory that holds that the machinery of life is so complex as to require the hand -- subtle or not -- of an intelligent creator.
Within hours of publication, senior scientists at the Smithsonian Institution -- which has helped fund and run the journal -- lashed out at Sternberg as a shoddy scientist and a closet Bible thumper.
"They were saying I accepted money under the table, that I was a crypto-priest, that I was a sleeper cell operative for the creationists," said Steinberg, 42 , who is a Smithsonian research associate. "I was basically run out of there."
An independent agency has come to the same conclusion, accusing top scientists at the Smithsonian's National Museum of Natural History of retaliating against Sternberg by investigating his religion and smearing him as a "creationist."
The U.S. Office of Special Counsel, which was established to protect federal employees from reprisals, examined e-mail traffic from these scientists and noted that "retaliation came in many forms . . . misinformation was disseminated through the Smithsonian Institution and to outside sources. The allegations against you were later determined to be false."
"The rumor mill became so infected," James McVay, the principal legal adviser in the Office of Special Counsel, wrote to Sternberg, "that one of your colleagues had to circulate [your résumé] simply to dispel the rumor that you were not a scientist."
The Washington Post and two other media outlets obtained a copy of the still-private report.
McVay, who is a political appointee of the Bush administration, acknowledged in the report that a fuller response from the Smithsonian might have tempered his conclusions. As Sternberg is not a Smithsonian employee -- the National Institutes of Health pays his salary -- the special counsel lacks the power to impose a legal remedy.
A spokeswoman for the Smithsonian Institution declined comment, noting that it has not received McVay's report.
"We do stand by evolution -- we are a scientific organization," said Linda St. Thomas, the spokeswoman. An official privately suggested that McVay might want to embarrass the institution.
It is hard to overstate the passions fired by the debate over intelligent design. President Bush recently said that schoolchildren should learn about the theory alongside Darwin's theory of evolution -- a view that goes beyond even the stance of intelligent design advocates. Dozens of state school boards have attempted to mandate the teaching of anti-Darwinian theories.
A small band of scientists argue for intelligent design, saying evolutionary theory's path is littered with too many gaps and mysteries, and cannot account for the origin of life.
Most evolutionary biologists, not to mention much of the broader scientific community, dismiss intelligent design as a sophisticated version of creationism. To teach it in science classes, they say, would be to overturn hundreds of years of scientific progress. The National Museum of Natural History was drawn into this controversy in June, when protest forced it to withdraw from co-sponsorship of a documentary on intelligent design.
Sternberg's case has sent ripples far beyond the Beltway. The special counsel accused the National Center for Science Education, an Oakland, Calif.-based think tank that defends the teaching of evolution, of orchestrating attacks on Sternberg.
"The NCSE worked closely with" the Smithsonian "in outlining a strategy to have you investigated and discredited," McVay wrote to Sternberg.
NCSE officials accused McVay of playing out a political agenda. "I must say that Mr. McVay flatters us beyond our desserts -- the Smithsonian is a distinguished organization of highly competent scientists, and they're not marionettes," said Eugenie Scott, the group's executive director. "If this was a corporation, and an employee did something that really embarrassed the administration, really blew it, how long do you think that person would be employed?"
Sternberg is an unlikely revolutionary. He holds two PhDs in evolutionary biology, his graduate work draws praise from his former professors, and in 2000 he gained a coveted research associate appointment at the Smithsonian Institution.
Not long after that, Smithsonian scientists asked Sternberg to become the unpaid editor of Proceedings of the Biological Society of Washington, a sleepy scientific journal affiliated with the Smithsonian. Three years later, Sternberg agreed to consider a paper by Stephen C. Meyer, a Cambridge University-educated philosopher of science who argues that evolutionary theory cannot account for the vast profusion of multicellular species and forms in what is known as the Cambrian "explosion," which occurred about 530 million years ago.
Scientists still puzzle at this great proliferation of life. But Meyer's paper went several long steps further, arguing that an intelligent agent -- God, according to many who espouse intelligent design -- was the best explanation for the rapid appearance of higher life-forms.
Sternberg harbored his own doubts about Darwinian theory. He also acknowledged that this journal had not published such papers in the past and that he wanted to stir the scientific pot.
"I am not convinced by intelligent design but they have brought a lot of difficult questions to the fore," Sternberg said. "Science only moves forward on controversy."
He mailed Meyer's article to three scientists for a peer review. It has been suggested that Sternberg fabricated the peer review or sought unqualified scientists, a claim McVay dismissed.
"They were critical of the paper and gave 50 things to consider," Sternberg said. "But they said that people are talking about this and we should air the views."
When the article appeared, the reaction was near instantaneous and furious. Within days, detailed scientific critiques of Meyer's article appeared on pro-evolution Web sites. "The origin of genetic information is thoroughly understood," said Nick Matzke of the NCSE. "If the arguments were coherent this paper would have been revolutionary-- but they were bogus."
A senior Smithsonian scientist wrote in an e-mail: "We are evolutionary biologists and I am sorry to see us made into the laughing stock of the world, even if this kind of rubbish sells well in backwoods USA."
An e-mail stated, falsely, that Sternberg had "training as an orthodox priest." Another labeled him a "Young Earth Creationist," meaning a person who believes God created the world in the past 10,000 years.
This latter accusation is a reference to Sternberg's service on the board of the Baraminology Study Group, a "young Earth" group. Sternberg insists he does not believe in creationism. "I was rather strong in my criticism of them," he said. "But I agreed to work as a friendly but critical outsider."
Scott, of the NCSE, insisted that Smithsonian scientists had no choice but to explore Sternberg's religious beliefs. "They don't care if you are religious, but they do care a lot if you are a creationist," Scott said. "Sternberg denies it, but if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it argues for zealotry."
Sternberg has seen stress piled upon stress in the past year. His marriage has dissolved, and he no longer comes into the Smithsonian. When the biological society issued a statement disavowing Meyer's article, Sternberg was advised not to attend. "I was told that feelings were running so high, they could not guarantee me that they could keep order," Sternberg said.
A former professor of Sternberg's says the researcher has an intellectual penchant for going against the system. Sternberg does not deny it.
"I loathe careerism and the herd mentality," he said. "I really think that objective truth can be discovered and that popular opinion and consensus thinking does more to obscure than to reveal."