Friends of CBHD know that we stress academic rigor and broad accessibility, characterized by charitable critique and thoughtful engagement. As a Christian bioethics research center, we feel a serious responsibility to our various audiences to offer credible resources.
Within the realm of bioethics in particular, and in the academy more broadly, Christians—especially evangelicals—are accused of anti-intellectualism. To be sure some streams of Evangelicalism have a history of anti-intellectualism with roots in 18th century Revivalism and Pietism, the move toward the German research university model in the 19century, and the Modernist-Fundamentalist conflicts of the 20century. Anti-intellectualism persists as a problem not only in the evangelical world, but in contemporary American culture, which prizes entertainment and emotional experiences. But doing ethics by emotion is inadequate at best, and shameful at its worst. Instead, we are expected to love God with all our mind.
Although the commandment applies to all Christians, loving God with all your mind is a powerful motivation for scholars.
So, just how does one become such a scholar? As a cognate of “school,” both words imply organization and focus. A school might be organized around age groups or a focused interest, such as law. A scholar focuses on a particular area of study, such as the history of medicine, and through professional or academic organizations associates with other similarly engaged people. A distinctive of the scholar is the love of learning. (My husband Jay is bemused by the pile of books on my nightstand. Why would anyone want to read Newman’s Apologia Pro Vita Sua or Birkert’s Gutenberg Elegies for pleasure?)
Let me tell you about three recent exchanges that have helped form me as a scholar.
The Academy of Fellows met near Chicago on a cold January weekend, to welcome new Fellows and hold a consultation themed on academic mentoring. Mentoring is not only professor-to-student, but also colleague-to-colleague. And that is what transpired. Ten fellows presented works in progress, on a variety of topics ranging from enhancement to synthetic biology to Ebola ethics. Comments were appreciative, candid, charitable, and thoughtful. Among fellow Christians, remarks do not have to be carefully weighed so as not to offend or alienate secular sensibilities. Mutual respect in the offering and receiving of comments was genuine, even when differing perspectives were raised.
I was challenged to think more deeply. For example, how does the use of engineering language affect our perception of biological life, cells, and organisms? “Construction-of-the-cell” language may lead us to regard the cell as a machine, whose defective parts can be interchanged at will with healthy replacements. The metaphor can disguise or distort the reality.
Two weeks later, the Center hosted another scholarly event. This time, instead of covering a broad array of topics, we plunged deeply into just one: the mechanisms of action of levonorgestrel (“Plan B”). There has been an ongoing debate about the drug’s possible embryocidal effect, which would of course have ethical ramifications. In this by-invitation-only gathering, presenters spoke freely about what they think the evidence shows. Because we all share a commitment to respect and not harm or destroy human embryos, we were free to emphasize minor points of difference.
I learned more about the female hormonal cycle in six hours than I did through a college education and three pregnancies. I pressed the presenters for their assessment of the validity, reliability, and generalizability of the studies. And, the conversations have continued via email, posing technical questions for the experts.
The third example of doing scholarship is consulting with experts in the field. On a couple of recent occasions, I checked with Dr. David Prentice (also a CBHD Advisory Board member) about specific studies or techniques. Once, he corrected my draft of a column that misrepresented a study using human embryo stem cells to treat diabetes, and on another occasion, clarified for me an inaccurate news report about the creation of primordial germ cells from two men (for the ultimate goal of creating a child genetically linked to two male parents, colloquially called the “two-dad” embryo).
A scholar does not claim to know everything. In bioethics, this would be foolhardy, if not impossible given the breadth of the interdisciplinary nature of the conversation. Instead, we participate in a community of scholars, seeking and sharing expertise. There is no shame in making mistakes. The greater harm would be in refusing to admit error, or covering it up. Intellectual hubris benefits no one, and epistemic humility is in short supply. Yet, a humble, open attitude unlocks the possibility of deeper learning.
One need not be a scholar with rarified expertise to love God with all your mind. You simply need to love learning, and do it for the rest of your life, to the glory of God.
Paige C. Cunningham, "From the Director's Desk,” Dignitas 22, no. 1 (2015): 2–3.
