When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer Chaitali Sen (bio) Click for larger view View full resolution Fernandes, was instantly likable and cheerfully intelligent. He was quite young and had spent the last five years abroad at Stockholm University. He seemed happy to have escaped the monotonous chill of Scandinavia. Those first few weeks, I often observed him standing by his open window, enjoying the warm, bright days. On his desk, he kept a picture of his wife, standing in front of a stone wall with a handful of tulips. A liveliness in the photograph caught my attention every time I passed it. I wondered when she would come prancing through the offices to introduce herself. In all my years as a department secretary, the wives always did this, refusing to be forgotten, even at times getting involved in controversies that had nothing to do with them. But his wife, whom he called Kitty, did not come and announce herself, and I soon learned that nothing in this small, fledgling department would happen as expected. Early one morning, at the end of August, Dr. Fernandes stood by my desk instead of going directly to his office. He was holding a newspaper. "I need your help," he declared. He had already made a habit of saying this to me. "Did you happen to see this editorial in the paper?" He put the newspaper on my desk and pointed to the article in question. It was authored by a Dr. Robert Smith of the Society for Science and Ethics. Dr. Fernandes asked if I'd heard of him. "I haven't," I said truthfully. I never had much interest in reading the newspaper. He waved his hand over the paper. "He completely mischaracterizes the scientific process. He equates the teaching of evolution with religious dogma." I nodded, trying to understand his mood, which I could only describe as a kind of calm panic. "Everything he presents as the truth is actually an inverse of the truth. I was reading it to Kitty this morning and, suddenly, some things about this place started to make sense. The behavior of the students, for example, and some of the faculty, for that matter." "I see. Would you like some coffee, Dr. Fernandes?" I was relieved that he said yes. I went to fetch the coffee and expected to take it to him in his office, but he had pulled up a chair to my desk and was frowning over the newspaper again. When I sat back down, he continued to tell me about the myriad falsehoods in Dr. Smith's editorial, most notably his claim that a legitimate minority of scientists was raising doubts about the age of the earth. "But is all this really new?" I interjected. Here I felt the advantage of my [End Page 35] age. I told Dr. Fernandes that in my thirty years with the department, evolution was one of those topics that had no shortage of detractors. My word choice concerned him. "Detractors?" "Yes, you know, a student from a devout family might write a letter of complaint." "Is that why the department broke up, because of detractors?" There I hesitated, fearing I had misspoken. I certainly didn't have the expertise to explain why the department had split. From what I understood, Dr. Elam, who was the dean of the College of Natural Sciences, wanted the biological disciplines to have more of a professional emphasis, to prepare the students for careers in medicine and such. The split into two departments was meant to be a compromise, with the larger Biological and Biomedical Sciences absorbing most of the faculty, and our smaller department emphasizing foundational theory and investigative process. Dr. Fernandes confessed to me that he hadn't asked many questions when he was interviewing for this position. "I don't know how much they would have told you anyway," I said. "I believe some of the conflict was personal." I was present at some of the meetings to take notes, and had read and filed some of the correspondence, but when he asked me if they had discussed evolution, religion, pedagogy, truth, reality—in other words, if they...
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Mar 16, 2024
Nahid Bakhtiary + 2
Open Access