The Relationship between Science and Religion: Complexity Rules the Day, and Many Windows and Maps Are Needed

In a recent paper, Kowalski and Mrdjenovich (2017) advised against indiscriminate dichotomization. We looked at nature vs nurture, reductionism vs holism, and several of the ways the scientific pie could be sliced in two pieces, basic vs applied, physical science vs social science, etc., arguing that focusing on one or the other of two dichotomous choices often deflects attention from a more fertile intermediate ground where more useful answers might be found, and that a better classification scheme than the basic/applied opposition would depend on the nature of the question being asked and the manner in which an answer is sought. We even ventured to include science vs poetry, recognizing that the two are often taken to be the very embodiment of polarity, the cold of rationality vs the heat of emotion. Thus we approached, but did not directly confront the elephant in the room: Science vs Religion. I attend to this now.


Introduction
In the beginning, Man created religion. And so it came to pass that, at a later time, and for somewhat different purposes, they invented science. Both religion and science found fertile ground and vigorous growth ensued; growth of one was usually unimpeded by the growth of the other, and they both currently play prominent roles in the human enterprise. I do not summarize here the long histories of either religion (Note 1) (Armstrong, 1993), or science (Wootton, 2015), but rather focus on their

Figure 1. Cartoon Depicting Relationship between Science and Religion
At first glance, there would appear to be more similarities than differences; one difference being sartorial, the other a disagreement about who begot whom. One of the presumed similarities-both science and religion are involved in a search for answers-obscures some important differences: answers to what questions and how answers are sought.
When surveying the current views of S&R in the United States, it does not take long to discover that all of the views alluded to above can be represented when considering a given question and that the particular representation chosen can color the impressions so obtained. For example, concentrating on just the four-tiered frameworks mentioned above (Haught and Barbour), each of these authors compared and contrasted the conclusions reached about many of currently controversial issues being debated when each of the frameworks was employed to seek understanding. Thus, Haught (1995) considered such questions as "Does science rule out a personal God?", Is life reducible to chemistry?", Was the universe created?", and "Is religion responsible for the ecological crisis?". He details the ways in which each of the four frameworks of conflict, contrast, contact, and confirmation would approach these questions and compares the sorts of answers they would produce. Similarly, Barbour (2000) assumes the conflict, independence, dialogue, and integration positions in addressing questions grouped under the headings of "astronomy and creation", the "implications of quantum physics", "evolution and continuing creation", and "genetics, neuroscience, and human nature". Again, while the model adopted surely colors the conclusions reached, the differences noted are more a matter of emphasis, few out-and-out contradictions are apparent.
Nonetheless, both Haught and Barbour make it clear that they do not favor the first two (conflict and independence) models, and note that the conflict model may be mis-specified: it may not be science, but scientism (the belief that science is the only reliable guide to truth) that is the enemy of religion. Also see Plantinga (2011).

Figure 2. Shermer's Three-Tiered Model of S&R
According to Shermer (1997, pp. 137-138), in the same-worlds model, science and religion deal with the same subjects, and not only is there overlap and conciliation, but he thinks that, someday, science may subsume religion. In the separate-worlds model, science and religion deal with different subjects, do not conflict or overlap, and the two should peacefully coexist. In the conflicting-worlds model, science and religion deal with the same subjects (as in the same-worlds model), but one is right and the other is wrong, and there can be no reconciliation between the two viewpoints.
I address these in the order separate-worlds (Peace Talks), conflicting-worlds (The Dominant View: Open Warfare), and same-world (GAIA: Many Windows and Maps) in the following sections.

Peace Talks
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the children of God.

Matthew 5:9
When one looks at arguments in favor of the independence (separate-worlds) model, the most often cited are connected to Stephen Jay Gould's concept of NOMA; indeed, Gould is recognized (along with Darwin) as all but synonymous with his model by Shermer (1997, p. 138). But some care is needed in establishing this connection. In fact, I will argue that NOMA is best understood as representing different perspectives on the same world, not on different domains of inquiry, i.e., not on separate worlds. Gould (1998) first introduced the concept of NOMA, Non-Overlapping MAgisteria, to explain why science and religion are not in conflict with one another: "The lack of conflict between science and religion arises from a lack of overlap between their respective domains of professional expertise-science in the empirical constitution of the universe, and religion in the search for proper ethical values and the spiritual meaning of our lives" (p. 271).
He explains (p. 274): "The net of science covers the empirical realm: what is the universe made of (fact) and why does it work that way (theory). The net of religion extends over questions of moral meaning and value. These two magisteria do not overlap, nor do they encompass all inquiry (consider, for starters, the magisterium of art and the meaning of beauty). To cite the usual clichés, we get the age of rocks, and religion retains the rock of ages; we study how the heavens go, and they determine how to go to heaven".
He then goes on to devote an entire book to defining, illustrating, and defending NOMA (Gould, 1999).
He notes that, "the two magisteria … belly right up to each other, and interdigitate in the most intimate and complex manner". Science and religion "ask different, and logically distinct questions-but their subjects of inquiry are often both identical and maximally meaningful" (p. 110).
The basic tenants of NOMA have been accepted by several prominent scientific societies, e.g., the American Association for the Advancement of Science and the USA's National Academy of Science.
As noted and discussed by Nelkin (2000, p. 18), according to the American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS), the differences between science and religion have to do with the kind of questions asked: "Science is about causes, religion about meaning. Science deals with how things happen in nature, religion with why there is anything rather than nothing. Science answers specific questions about the workings of nature, religion addresses the ultimate ground of nature".
[From AAAS Program of Dialogue between Science and Religion, brochure, 1995].
The USA's National Academy of Science also supports the view that science and religion are independent: "Science and religion are based on different aspects of human experience. In science, explanations must be based on evidence drawn from examining the natural world.
Scientifically based observations or experiments that conflict with an explanation eventually must lead to modification or even abandonment of that explanation. Religious faith, in contrast, does not depend on empirical evidence, is not necessarily modified in the face of conflicting evidence, and typically involves supernatural forces or entities. Because they are not a part of nature, supernatural entities cannot be investigated by science. In this sense, science and religion are separate and address aspects of human understanding in different ways. Attempts to pit science and religion against each other create controversy where none needs to exist".
["Evolution Resources: Compatibility of Science and Religion". Science, Evolution and Creationism. National Academies of the United States, 2008].
Yet another vote in favor of NOMA was cast by Francisco Ayala (2007). Much like Gould, Ayala's book delivers the message: "Science and religious beliefs need not be in contradiction. If they are properly understood (Note 2), they cannot be in contradiction because science and religion concern different matters" (ix). He touches directly on Gould's NOMA when he repeats (p. 162), "If they are correctly assessed, they cannot be in contradiction, because science and religion concern non-overlapping realms of knowledge. It is only when assertions are made beyond their legitimate boundaries that evolutionary theory and religious belief appear to be antithetical".
He also quotes the National Academy of Sciences (p. 174), "Religion and science answer different questions about the world. Whether there is purpose to the universe or a purpose for human existence are not questions for science … Consequently, many people, including scientists, hold strong religious beliefs and simultaneously accept the occurrence of evolution".
Ayala also quotes Freeman Dyson (179), "As human beings, we are groping for knowledge and understanding of the strange universe into which we are born. We have many ways of understanding, of which science is only one … Science is a particular bunch of tools that have been conspicuously successful for understanding and manipulating the material universe. Religion is another bunch of tools, giving us hints of a mental of spiritual universe that transcends the material universe". So, if S and R address different sets of questions, and use different bunches of tools to answer them, S and R would seem to represent a dichotomy. Thus, e.g., Pigliucci (2000) referred to NOMA as Gould's Solomonic separation of science and religion. Shermer (1997) all but identified NOMA with his separate-worlds model. Moritz (2009) also thought that NOMA was based on separating science and religion. He thought this problematic in practice, noting that the "sharp line" between science and religion has been recurrently crossed throughout history and continues to be traversed today. The line between what science can and cannot explain has a habit of shifting. The practical reality of NOMA tends to be not so much "Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's", as "Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's and to God, the things Caesar says he can have" (Note 3). Taking exception to NOMA which he views as an apartheid-like tactic, he advocates for more dialogue between S&R, "Thus, while in principle one may reassuringly assert that science and religion do not overlap, in historical and philosophical reality and contemporary practice it remains quite a difficult task to tease these two apart. Ignoring this fact advances the cause of neither theology nor science. Embracing their creative engagement and interaction, though, might just unveil the path that leads to new heights of discovery for both" (p. 374). It seems fair to say that many commentators interpret NOMA as based on a true dichotomization of science and religion. This tendency towards dichotomization has a long history, and in fact is typical of the kind of thinking humans do (Midgley, 2010) and any such "posits an incurable split between two aspects of the human psyche. This gulf may be located between theory and practice, or between 'hard' and 'soft' thinking, or again between the arts and sciences, between facts and values, between objective and subjective, between science and religion or even between men and women" (p. 73).
The question of dichotomization is one of several aspects of NOMA that require careful interpretation.
Others are that Gould doesn't really mean what he's saying, that it's all an accomodationist tactic to stop the warfare between S&R; that "no conflict" seems to imply "nothing to talk about", either; that "religion" needs careful definition; and that, instead of NOMA, S&R have differing perspectives on a common domain rather than differing domains of inquiry.
I begin with the dichotomization question. Those who know something of the history of Stephen Jay Gould should know better, viz., Gould (1981, p. 27) is famously on record as calling dichotomization one of "the oldest issues and errors of our philosophical traditions" (along with dichotomization, he demonizes reductionism, reification, and hierarchy). And Gould in fact takes care not to dichotomize science and religion writ large. He does put their respective domains of expertise into separate, non-overlapping bins, i.e., science knows about how; religion knows about why, but as he recognizes, "their subjects of inquiry are often both identical and maximally meaningful" (Gould, 1999, p. 110). He goes on to argue that "all too often, when making sense of the relationship between two disparate subjects, we assume that one of two extreme solutions must apply: either science and religion must battle to the death, with one victorious and the other defeated; or else they must represent the same quest and can therefore be fully and smoothly integrated into one grand synthesis" (p. 51). He then suggests that "these two domains hold equal worth and necessary status for any complete human life; and … they remain logically distinct and fully separate in styles of inquiry, however much and however tightly we must integrate the insights of both magisteria to build the rich a full view of life traditionally designated as wisdom" (p. 59).
Thus Gould views S&R as complementary (rather than opposing) forces that interact to form a dynamic system in which the whole is greater than the assembled parts, i.e., yin and yang. He asks, "From Mutt and Jeff to yin and yang, all our cultures, in their full diversity of levels and traditions, include images of the absolutely inseparable but utterly different. Why not add the magisteria of science and religion to this venerable and distinguished list?" (p. 67).
And, contra to Dawkins, I tend to believe that Gould is a man of his word. Dawkins (2006) writes "Gould carried the art of bending over backwards to positively supine lengths in one of his less admired books, Rocks of Ages" (p. 78). "I simply don't believe that Gould could possibly have meant much of what he wrote in Rocks of Ages" (p. 80). It's as though Gould was after "peace at any price", but this conclusion can be had only by ignoring much of what Gould actually had to say (And, again, it can be had only by ignoring Gould's track record).
For example, in answer to those citing NOMA as a mere peace-keeping, accomodationalist strategy (Coyne, 2015), Gould (1998, p. 92) replies: "NOMA is no wimpish, wallpapering, superficial device, acting as a mere diplomatic fiction and smoke screen to make life more convenient by compromise in a world diverse and contradictory passions. NOMA is a proper and principled solution-based on sound philosophy-to an issue of great historical and emotional weight. NOMA is tough-minded. NOMA forces dialogue and respectful discourse about different primary commitments. NOMA does not say 'I'm OK, you're OK-so let's just avoid any talk about science and religion'". This need for dialogue is an important aspect of NOMA, and takes care of the worry that "no conflict" also "rules out the possibility of constructive dialogue and mutual enrichment" (Barbour, 1997, p. 80). Gould (1998, p. 283) is emphatic about this: "Here, I believe, lies the greatest strength and necessity of NOMA … NOMA permits-indeed enjoins-the prospect of respectful discourse, of constant input from both magisteria toward the common goal of wisdom" (p. 283). Not only is a magisterium "a site for dialogue and debate, not a set of eternal and invariable rules" (p. 61), the same holds true for contact between the magisteria. With regards to the definition of religion, I agree with the need to be careful: Calling out, naming and defining science and religion may not be as straightforward a task as it may seem. In particular, consider the identification of religion with "the search for proper ethical values and the spiritual meaning of our lives". One can question whether religion is the only (or even an effective) way to conduct this search. Why religion and not philosophy? Religion may not be the only or even a viable quest for ethics: In fact, it may not be a quest at all to the extent that it is based on arbitrary sets of rules and the enforcement of dogmas. Gould also has anticipated this: "This magisterium [religion] of ethical discussion and search for meaning includes several disciplines traditionally grouped under humanities-much of philosophy, and part of literature and history, for example. But human societies have usually centered the discourse of this magisterium upon an institution called 'religion'" (pp. 55-56) … "while every person must formulate a moral theory under the magisterium of ethics and meaning, and while religion anchors this magisterium in most cultural traditions, the chosen pathway may not invoke religion at all, but may ground moral discourse in other disciplines, philosophy for example" (p. 60).
Finally, I consider Barbour (1997) who noted that instead of NOMA, some have suggested that science and religion have differing perspectives on a common domain rather than differing domains of inquiry (p. 84). Rather than identifying NOMA with the independence, nothing to do with one another model, we recognize S and R as offering different perspectives on a common domain (the one-world model); and this is the attitude adopted here. I "stop considering a human being as a hybrid and treat it as a whole that can be properly examined from many different aspects" (Midgley, 2000, p. 82).
To assume the (two-worlds) independence-model is one thing. To conclude that the independence model obtains because the two camps pose different questions is to confuse ontology (what there is to know) and epistemology (how we can get to know it). This muddling of the issues of ontology and epistemology has been a persistent problem in philosophy. To assume that questions in ontology can be reduced to questions in epistemology is to commit the "epistemic fallacy", as would occur were one to conclude that two worlds exist because two distinct sets of questions were being pursued. Thus I dismiss the two-worlds model in favor of a one-world model that can be studied from various perspectives (and, I claim, that this is also the position argued for by Gould and NOMA, but one has to be sure to read all of Gould's presentation to appreciate the distinction).
I want to be careful here to not push the "differing perspectives" so far as to just create a new dichotomy. Plantinga (2011) also thought the "differing perspectives" model to be appropriate, but looked for similarities in perspectives rather than differences. He cited John Worrall who started with the notion that there is just one world (ontological assumption) but stressed the profound contrast between the epistemic styles of religion and science (p. 122): The scientist holds her beliefs tentatively, dispassionately, only on the basis of evidence, and is always looking for a better hypothesis, one that is better supported by the evidence. The religious believer, on the other hand, typically holds his beliefs dogmatically: he is unwilling to consider the evidence and often holds his beliefs with a degree of firmness out of proportion to their support by evidence; he is unwilling to look for a better hypothesis.
Plantinga gives a Niels Bohr vs Erwin Schrodinger counterexample to the "dispassionate" claim, one that may be duplicated in the field with I am most familiar, viz., statistics (Karl Pearson vs R.A. Fisher; the Bayesians vs. the Frequentists). Plantinga also points out that the whole notion that all epistemic activity should mirror that exhibited in science is not a scientific finding at all-it is opinion most commonly detected within the scientific community. As put by Paul Feyerabend (1975, p. 220), "Scientists are not content with running their own playpens in accordance with what they regard as the rules of the scientific method; they want to universalize those rules, they want them to become part of society at large". Stephen Weinberg, etc. They are most vociferous in their attacks on religious fundamentalists, especially those espousing the literal truth of such works as the Bible, the Koran, and Tanakh, but they target all aspects of religion, arguing that there is no way that one can be both properly scientifically-minded, and a true religious believer. They believe that science will eventually unravel all of the mysteries surrounding human existence, thereby rendering religion unnecessary, and will be happy to shout "good riddance". Dennett (2006, p. 25) said, "religion is natural as opposed to supernatural, that it is a human phenomenon composed of events, organisms, objects, structures, patterns and the like that all obey the laws of physics or biology, and hence do not involve miracles". Hitchens (2007, p. 281)  cannibalistic. He then points out that these descriptors apply as well to the Jesus of the New Testament, just a chip off the old block. In the same vein, Chapter Eight of Hitchens (2007) is titled The "New" Testament Exceeds the Evil of the "Old" One.
This, then, is the view of the Bible taken by the New Atheists, and it, together with such other representatives as the Koran and Tanakh, is seen as the seed of an aggressive stance assumed by the various religions, apparently just begging for retaliation. Harris (2004, p. 13) notes that "most of the people in this world believe that the Creator of the universe has written a book … we have the misfortune of having many such books on hand, each making an exclusive claim as to its infallibility".
Harris does not believe "true believers" are capable of an ecumenical stance toward either other religions or those harboring no belief at all: "… respect for other faiths, or for the views of unbelievers, is not an attitude that God endorses. While all faiths have been touched, here and there, by the spirit of ecumenicalism, the central tenet of every religious tradition is that all others are mere repositories of error or, at best, dangerously incomplete. Intolerance is thus intrinsic to every creed. Once a person believes-really believes-that certain ideas can lead to eternal happiness, or to its antithesis, he cannot tolerate the possibility that the people he loves might be led astray by the blandishments of unbelievers" (p. 13). There is no doubt that Harris "really believes" this, but he apparently is not afraid that this constitutes dogmatism.
Jerry Coyne (2015) demonstrates that the other side can be intolerant as well. He says (p. 64) that science and religion are incompatible because they have different methods for getting knowledge about reality, have different ways of assessing the reliability of that knowledge, and, in the end, arrive at conflicting conclusions about the universe. He wants to distinguish his view from much of the earlier literature on the S&R relationship, which he calls "accommodationist" (Dawkins uses the term "the Neville Chamberlain approach"). He notes that (p. 17) that there has been a recent upsurge in accommodationism that has been funded by the John Templeton Foundation who believe that science and religion can be partners in solving "big questions" of purpose, meaning and values. He rejects NOMA (p. 106), calling it a gambit, and recognizing that it is perhaps the most common argument for the compatibility of science and faith. He also classifies NOMA as among the accommodationist genre, and cites statements from the National Academies and the National Science Teachers Association as other representatives.
John Worrall (2004) is another who claims S&R are incompatible: "Science and religion are in irreconcilable conflict. … There is no way in which you can be both properly scientifically minded and a true religious believer" (p. 60). An opposing view is given by Del Ratzsch (2004). The debate then continues with Worrall responding to Del Ratzsch and with Del Ratzsch supplying the last word (Peterson & VanArragon, 2004, pp. 87-94). One is struck by the complexity of the issue: the back-and-forth format emphasizes the fact that both sides have been well thought out, and both have something to contribute to the conversation. Another debate-type format considering the compatibility question-and endorsing the complexity thesis-is Dennett and Plantinga (2011). This is a book in the Oxford University Press point/counterpoint series pitting one of the four horsemen against a well-known Professor of Philosophy at the University of Notre Dame. It is an interesting read on many accounts, only one will be mentioned here. Dennett thinks NOMA (separate-worlds model) hurts science; Plantinga thinks the conflicting-worlds model does, albeit in different ways. Dennett asserts, "… my disapproval of the NOMA gambit grows out of the worry that these attempts by well-meaning scientific diplomats [Gould] do more harm than good, unwittingly convincing many laypeople that scientists will lie through their teeth to get evolution taught in the schools" (p. 50). And, according to Plantinga, "Insofar as Dennett and others proclaim conflict between evolutionary theory and theistic belief, they exacerbate this distrust of evolution-a distrust that spills over to science itself, with a consequent cost in public support of science" (p. 63). Yet another who is hurting whom debate is between Mooney and Kirshenbaum (2009) and Harris (2010). Harris takes exception to the suggestion that "if the goal is to create an America more friendly toward science and reason, the combativeness of the New Atheists is strongly counterproductive" (Mooney & Kirshenbaum, 2009, p. 97), reacting by saying "Mooney and Kirshenbaum seem to imagine that we can get people to value intellectual honesty by lying to them" (p. 175). And the beat goes on … Another influential critique of the New Atheists' creed is given by Haught (2008). He devotes two chapters (1 and 2) to the questions: "How New Is the New Atheism?" and "How Atheistic is the New Atheism?" and concludes that it has all been said before, with even more gusto than that mustered by the new kids on the block. He points to some "real" atheists who preceded them, e.g., Freud, Camus, Nietzsche, Russell and Sartre. He suggests that the New Atheists have tempered their rhetoric because they want to prevail at the least possible expense to the agreeable socioeconomic circumstances out of which they sermonize.
He takes on the New Atheists penchant for referring to themselves as "brights" thereby distinguishing themselves from their not-so-bright religious opponents (p. 43). He notes that Dennett (2007, p. 55) denies that "bright" signifies superiority, but it is hard to believe that they couldn't have thought of another descriptor had they wanted to. In any case, the term has caught on and has even sparked a "Brights movement" whose interesting history may be traced at www.the-brights.net He also points to Dawkins and his disciples' overuse of Occam's razor when they argue that when scientific answers are simpler, they are to be preferred over others which may be more complex.
William of Occam said that explanations should not be multiplied beyond necessity; but Haught claims that sometimes it is necessary to have a plurality of levels of explanation (p. 89).
He wants to adopt a less adversarial stance than the New Atheists, but he cannot always keep his resolution. For example, when discussing Hitchens' and Harris' interpretations of certain inconsistencies found in the Bible, he calls their reading "an exceptional display of cognitional, ethical, and exegetical abstemiousness" (p. 104), fighting words if there ever were any. Another challenge to the New Atheists was delivered by Kitcher (2011). Kitcher takes on the militant modern atheists (the four horsemen), charging that their view is incomplete (and likely counter-productive) so long as it fails to attend systematically to the roles religion plays in human lives.
He has no problem with their attacking the beliefs on which religious fundamentalists rely, but there is more to the issue than that. The challenge is to develop a well-articulated and convincing version of secular humanism which, he claims, is one of the central problems of philosophy today. Dennett and LaScola (2015) fire back: "As Kitcher's well-intentioned imaginative attempt to avoid hypocrisy clearly shows all to vividly, there is no stable stopping point on the slippery slope between being patronizing, on the one hand, and uneasy complicity with unacceptable nonsense on the other" (p.

192).
Both sides apparently want the last word, and we therefore do not expect the fighting to end any time soon. Dawkins talks about why the New Atheists are (properly) so confrontational. While denying any inborn tendency towards confrontation, and while recognizing the adversarial format is not well designed to get at the truth, he defends his hostility as necessary in defense of science (Dawkins, 2006, p. 317). Just as Chamberlain needed to give way to Churchill to effectively confront Hitler in the defense of freedom, so too the four horsemen are needed if we are to properly defend the scientific magisterium (c.f., Ruse, 2007). But not to worry: "[S]uch hostility as I or other atheists occasionally voice towards religion is limited to words. I am not going to bomb anybody, behead them, stone them, burn them at the stake, crucify them, or fly planes into their skyscrapers" (Dawkins, 2006, p. 318).
But maybe, just maybe, we need not choose between one or the other of these extreme positions. It may be more illuminating to explore the more fertile intermediate ground where more useful answers may be found. Indeed, without abandoning any of their core beliefs, some of the new atheists have taken Kitcher's challenge to heart, and have directed their talents to developing "a convincing version of secular humanism".
They noted at once that they would need to address the apparent power of "belief in belief". It's just that many people seem to believe that their belief in God is beneficial to them. It's as though there would be no reason to be good if God-the-policeman was not around. This attitude is captured by the refrain from Peggy Lee's popular song "If That's All There Is": Is that all there is, is that all there is If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing Let's break out the booze and have a ball If that's all there is Chapter eight of Dennett (2006) is entitled "Belief in belief" and much of his discussion has root in Voltaire's "If God did not exist, it would be necessary for us to invent Him". He doesn't believe that belief in belief is necessarily a good thing, and it certainly does not mean that either belief is true, but he at least recognizes it as a force to be reckoned with. Hitchens (2007, p. 165) agrees that "belief in belief" can be a good thing: "people can be better off believing in something than in nothing, however untrue that something may be". Even Dawkins (2006, p. 394) recognizes the power of "belief in belief", but he starts to sketch the way towards a secular alternative.
Others soon joined to question whether God was a necessary part of this equation. Harris (2010) challenged the idea that "we need God to be good", in particular, that science has nothing to say about morals, or how to lead one's life. Pinker (2011) continues the argument: He describes his version as enlightenment humanism, and makes clear that, "Enlightenment humanism makes no use of scripture, Jesus, ritual, religious law, divine purpose, immortal souls, an afterlife, a messianic age, or a God that responds to individual people" (p. 183). Enlightenment humanism is not necessarily atheistic (it is compatible with a deism in which God is identified with the nature of the universe), but it has no need of that hypothesis. Shermer (2015) went even further: He argues that religion is not, and cannot be, the driver of moral progress.
The current state of secular humanistic development is captured by Pinker (2018). He points to the ideals of the Enlightenment era: reason, science, humanism (the goal of maximizing human flourishing-life, health, happiness, freedom, knowledge, love, richness of experience) and progress, and details the extent of which humanism has been able to promote a non-supernatural basis for meaning and ethics: good without God. His book is not without critics (search on critiques of enlightenment now), but it does represent the current state of development of secular humanism.
Perhaps still more needs to be done, and one should not be too quick to anoint certain approaches to knowledge as the only acceptable route. Pinker himself seems to not completely slam the door on religiosity or, at least, spiritualism: He closes his book by noting that the story of human progress is "even, I daresay, spiritual". He admits that "human nature has been blessed with resources that open a space for a kind of redemption", and that "we are endowed with the power to combine ideas recursively" (p. 452, my italics). In a recent New York Times article (2/25/18), Ross Douthat notes that Pinker has drawn a bright line "between the empirical spirit of science and the unreasoning obscurantism he suggests otherwise prevails". This "drawing of lines" is a mark of the kind of dichotomization I have been arguing needs to be avoided. Genuinely curious people are curious about everything, and it is certainly in the spirit of empiricism to want to see what happens, for example, if you elect to try a life-enhancing treatment that has not been subjected to a randomized, double-blind, controlled clinical trial. The FDA will deem that a less-than-scientific decision, but what if the pain actually lessens? Damn the placebos, full speed ahead… Atkinson's cartoon includes the notion the both science and religion "search for answers". I note that while it may be possible to distinguish between science and religion on the basis of the nature of the questions being asked and the manner in which answers are sought, an even better approach might be to not even attempt making that split in the first place, but to recognize their common focus on the universe and, in particular, on the earth and its inhabitants. Even if they normally pose different types of questions; even if they usually structure their questions differently; even if they judge the veracity of their answers according to different criteria, the questions they raise are questions about the world and its inhabitants. There is but one such world. It is complex enough so that no single approach to answering all possible questions (that elusive "theory of everything") will suffice. We are not compelled, e.g., to divide the various ways in which we think about people into two rival camps, pitting one against the other, trusting that the survival of the fittest will ensure that the "proper" view will swallow the other. "A human being is not a loosely joined combination of two radically different elements, but a single item-a whole person" (Midgley, 2000, p. 84). Rather than seen as competitors, "these various ways of thinking are like a set of complementary tools on a workbench or a set of remedies to be used for different diseases. Their variety is the variety of our needs" (emphasis in original).

GAIA: Many Windows and Maps
I also want to use two other metaphors due to Mary Midgley: multiple maps of the same territory and the many windows affording views of an aquarium. David Midgley (2005) points to a central theme in Mary Midgley's (his mother's) work, namely, there are different ways of seeing the world, which do not necessarily conflict with one another. He discusses and illustrates both the "many maps" (p. 14, p. 331) and "one aquarium, many windows" (p. 356) metaphors.
Mary Midgley (2004) employs the "many maps" metaphor, which was discussed in detail in Science and Poetry, 2001, to make the point that we need scientific pluralism-"the recognition that there are many independent forms and sources of knowledge-rather than reductivism, the conviction that one fundamental form underlies them all and settles everything" (p. 39). She considers the many maps of the world that are found in the first pages of atlases: "We do not make the mistake of thinking that these maps conflict. We know that the political world is not a different world than the climatological one, that it is the same world seen from a different angle. Different questions are asked, so naturally there are different answers" (p. 39).
The "one aquarium, many windows" metaphor is also useful in this regard. Consider a large aquarium with a number of windows allowing the simultaneous viewing of parts of that aquarium by multiple viewers. The view from any one window does not allow complete understanding of the contents of the entire aquarium: "We cannot have a single comprehensive view of the whole aquarium-a single, all-purpose, philosophic Theory of Everything … The world is simply too rich for such reductive strait-jacketing" (Midgley, 2001a, p. 19). But this does not say we are unable to improve upon our restricted view-all we need do is recognize our limitations and admit the possibility that others may be able to help us learn. Midgley continues, "This does not mean no understanding is possible. We can www.scholink.org/ojs/index.php/jrph relate these various aspects rationally because they all occur within the framework of our lives. We can walk round and look at other windows and can discuss them with each other. But we cannot eliminate any of them. We have to combine a number of different ways of thinking-the views through several windows, historical, biological, mathematical, everyday and the rest-and somehow to fit them together".
These metaphors (Note 5) are useful to Midgley since she takes a holistic, one-world's approach to looking at things: There is but one world; what we have are many ways of looking at that world. Each of these ways may be useful for answering a specific sort of question. No way is "the correct way". And, while she recognizes but one world, she emphasizes that it is a big one (Midgley, 1996), and that its complexity requires that we take in the information about it that are provided by alternative views and integrate their contributions into a unified whole.
I take it that the fact that the world is complex needs no documentation. My attitude is exemplified by Sapolsky (2017, p. 305) who, when considering just the religious aspect, flatly states: [T]hree obvious points: (a) a religion reflects the values of the culture that invented or adopted it. And very effectively transmits those values; (b) religion fosters the best and the worst of our behaviors; (c) it's complicated.
In sum, we live in but one, complicated world and understanding is best reached by integrating the views from the many windows that capture whatever understanding is possible from their respective, restricted views. A given map will be useful for a given purpose, but maps of a given territory are still maps of that territory. A given map may be better for a given purpose, but we may need them all to capture all aspects of that territory's structural nuances. No one map is "most fundamental" and able to be used in lieu of all the others.

Summary and Conclusions
I (Kowalski & Mrdjenovich, 2013, p. 19) previously quoted David Sackett and Jack Wennberg who considered how to choose the best design for a clinical investigation: The question being asked determines the appropriate research architecture, strategy, and tactics to be used-not tradition, authority, experts, paradigms, or schools of thought … Health and health care would be better served if investigators redirected the energy they currently expend bashing the research approaches they don't use into increasing the validity, power, and productivity of the ones they do (Sackett & Wennberg, 1997, p. 1636).
I also used the "horses for courses" terminology as in Petticrew and Roberts (2003) to signal the desirability of choosing the proper tool for the job at hand (Kowalski & Mrdjenovich, 2018). I suggest here that the nature of the question posed can provide valuable information about how to weigh the views obtained from various (e.g., scientific and religious) windows. Goodman (2008, p. 132 pointed out that while the motives of science and religion intersect at both seeking understanding, "the difference in focus between science and religion lies partly in the fact that our natural sciences seek causal understanding about the world we see and touch and the things in it that we can gauge and measure, and tease out from one another, not just conceptually but experientially, things that we can reliably relate to one another-ideally, by type, and mathematically. Often the focus is on things we can control … the religious quest probes beyond measurement, quantity, or control" (p. 132).
That there will be some people who, at least some of the time, will want to pursue the religious quest, I cite but two examples. The first recognizes a role for imagination in knowledge. Mary Midgley (2001bMidgley ( , 2003 demolished the supposed dichotomy between Imagination and Reason, arguing that philosophy needs both if it is to be both sensitive and rigorous; to be able to appreciate a vista as well as analyze the structure of a leaf. As summarized by David Midgley (2005, p. 16): "Imagination … is not to be seen as an optional extra in out mental equipment, providing spare-time entertainment for the mind in the form of poetry, paintings and religious visions, but as an essential element in all our knowledge of the world, not excepting the most rigorous scientific theories".
The second example is based on an observation by Goodheart (2008, p. 126): "The religious 'attempt to explain' when not performed in a dogmatic style may be necessary and valuable for a large portion, perhaps even a majority, of humanity who seek not objective truth in the answers, but consolation".
There will be another side to this question, viz., Dawkins (2006) devotes a section of his book (394ff) to developing a secular response to how do we deal with consolation if there is no God to provide it?
And his answer may be useful to someone who in fact is godless, but for the billions of people who subscribe to a God, Dawkins' insights will be summa cum Not Applicable.
In the spirit of abashment avoidance, I suggest that the New Atheists should concentrate on developing a secular humanism, while those with a religious bent might do well to focus on strategies seeking a consilience with science, e.g., via process philosophy (Note 6). Space limitations preclude a detailed sketch as to how this might proceed (and process philosophy is but one of the possibilities) but I will note we have already seen part of this development in Barbour (1997Barbour ( , p. 2000. In his four-tier taxonomy, under Integration, Barbour aims to unify and harmonize science and religion via process philosophy. As pointed out by Smedes (2008), Barbour's view is based on his notion of critical realism (Barbour, 1997, p. 89;Barbour, 2000, p. 22): "I advocate a critical realism holding that both communities make cognitive claims about realities beyond the human world. We cannot remain content with a plurality of unrelated languages if they are languages about the same world. If we seek a coherent interpretation of all experience, we cannot avoid the search for a unified world view".
Here again, we see a call for dialogue, using a common language based on a unified world view. I suggest that one view worthy of serious discussion is Worrall who seeks his "unified world view" in evidence. From Worrall (2004, p. 60): "There is only one reality; that reality either does or does not contain a god, an afterlife or whatever, just as it either does or does not contain quarks or superstrings or whatever; and the question that needs to be addressed about both sets of unobservable (alleged) entities is what evidence we have for their existence". I advocate for a reasonably long cease-fire period during which those interested in S&R develop their world views in a scholarly, objective fashion, without basing their development exclusively on what is wrong with other developments. They can and should then get together and discuss (not debate) their findings. If done dialectically, convergence to truth seems possible.