One of the common misconceptions in the late modern West is that practitioners of science are necessarily forced to align themselves with materialistic, atheistic worldviews. As Elaine Ecklund and David Johnson succinctly state: “A particular kind of atheist scientist has thus become the public face of the science community. As a result, many members of the public think that all scientists are atheists and all atheist scientists are New Atheists, militantly against religion and religious people” (6). Although the stigma concerning the connection between atheism and science is ubiquitous, especially in American and British societies, the authors of Varieties of Atheism in Science carefully document and delineate several ways in which scientists describe their affinity with and understandings of religion. This is why the book is peppered with firsthand quotations from scientists who speak for themselves about their professional work and whether a certain type of unbelief is necessitated by the scientific enterprise.
Consequently, anecdotal evidence is consistently utilized by Ecklund and Johnson to demonstrate that scientists do not usually embrace a militant style of atheism (i.e., the kind of atheism that characterized the New Atheist writings in the mid-2000s). The number of firsthand testimonies that are documented in this book helps to bring the abstract nature of the science and religion dialogue into a conversational mode, helping the reader to not only see how multifaceted interdisciplinary dialogues can be, but also how scientists view the interrelatedness of faith and science. This well-written book will help to serve college instructors and undergraduate students to overcome the confirmation bias that unwittingly affirms that all scientists are militant atheists.
The stereotype of the dogmatic atheist scientist continues to persist unabated, especially at the grassroots level. Deep within the stereotypical thinking concerning the atheist scientist is the kind of univocal thinking (i.e., a mindset that has abandoned the analogous way of perceiving reality) that characterizes the philosophy of contemporary society. “Such binary thinking,” the authors insist, “can lead to stereotypes that have consequences. So when we think of or engage with scientists, especially atheist scientists, we are apt to make the snap judgment that they are against religion and religious people too (because the conflict narrative is the one that is easiest to believe)” (4). Ecklund and Johnson’s documentation is unambiguously clear that outspoken atheists are relatively uncommon to find within the scientific community. The authors broadly summarize the findings of their study: “The idea that all scientists are atheists who are against religion is a modern myth that drives polarization in society and even keeps certain groups (like women, Black and Brown Christians, and the religious more broadly) out of science. Our research shows that there are varieties of atheism among scientists and that not all atheist scientists see conflict between science and religion” (5, my emphasis).
Atheism can be defined in a number of ways, and one noteworthy conclusion is that scientists’ perspectives about unbelief and theology will vary considerably. Some unbelieving scientists should be considered practical atheists, and they simply have no trouble with Christianity or its influence in the public arena. These atheist scientists are not much different than the average atheist. Still other atheist scientists find something akin to spirituality in their daily work: “Some see very little inconsistency between their work as scientists and their personal spirituality, thinking of the latter as an extension of their work and a motivating factor for improving the lot of humanity” (80).
Through it all, Ecklund and Johnson have a put together a fine work of scholarship showing that, if a scientist identifies as an atheist or a skeptic of Christianity or other religions, they rarely resemble the antitheism of Richard Dawkins, Lawrence Krauss, and their followers.
