The main point I want to make in this chapter is that prior to the development of a convincing theory of evolution there was an argument of sorts for… - John Dupré

My point is not to claim that science has told us everything important about the world, that there are no longer any mysteries yet to be discovered, or even that science can ever tell us everything we would like to know. I have no doubt that there are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamed of in anyone’s philosophy. My point is rather that we know enough to accept our ignorance. We have enough idea of how we can, sometimes, find out even quite profound truths about the world we inhabit that we should no longer be satisfied with mythologies that are made up from sheer ignorance.

The main point, which would perhaps be unnecessary to labour if it were not so controversial and if it had not been denied in important respects by some quite unlikely people, is that the theory of evolution has been a major, even decisive, contributor to the process of undermining prescientific supernaturalistic metaphysical views and replacing them with the naturalistic metaphysics assumed by most contemporary philosophers. The question is not whether evolution and a particular religious tradition are logically consistent. Provided the religious tradition avoids factual claims, as Gould’s conception of distinct magisteria forces them to do by fiat and as sensible theologians have been increasingly willing to do for centuries, they are consistent because they do not speak on the same subjects. But it is nevertheless the case that science and religion speak for radically different conceptions of the universe. And as the conception fostered by the former has become more compelling, so that promoted by the latter has become less tenable. Science does not contradict religion; but it makes it increasingly improbable that religious discourse has any subject matter.

And that is the real force of my earlier insistence on empiricism. My brand of empiricism does not insist that we must have fully compelling grounds for the things we believe, or indeed that we can find totally irresistible grounds for anything much beyond the immediate and banal. It insists only that we have some reason for the things we believe and that we decline to believe those things for which we have no reasons. A modest requirement, perhaps, but one that would dispose, I contend, with a large part of the religious and superstitious mythologies that continue to dominate and sometimes devastate human lives.