Why not a State of the Universe(s) report at the close of a century? After all, ours is the first century to probe the galaxy and beyond with a variety of probing and listening technologies. We have moved from speaking about a galaxy to speaking of galaxies. More amazing, we are beginning to talk about universes in an assuming way.
Ferris writes well, mostly understandable to those of us whose understanding of science and physics pretty much ended with algebra II and zoology. What he does for people like me is provide a review of the history that got cosmic studies where they are, the current state of cosmological studies, and a glimpse of where they are heading. All in all, informative as it is fascinating.
I was surprised to learn that one concept science has had the most difficulty overcoming is that the universe is static. (p. 170) Ferris moves through Darwin's enlightening exposure of evolution on earth to evolution throughout the universe. He speaks of creative evolution, not an original thought of his—the theory that evolution is itself innovative, "that its products cannot be predicted in detail." (p. 198)
Why do I note this? Because it is one point at which religion has been a pain to science. Religion has been unwilling to accept the idea that the universe and life within it is not pre-determined. Essentially, the conclusions of science compel religion to get over long held assumptions and get with the program. I would think the grand idea of evolution would have more appeal than a notion of a static universe, or worse yet, a de-volving universe. It expands the mind to think we are part of something so grand and unfinished.
The question of the place of the human species has filled the imaginings of humans from as far as knowledge can be traced. Where did we come from? Is there reason for our being here? Are we alone in the universe? What is our destiny? Ferris writes about the efforts to find other life in the universe. He reminds us of the odds against any species of life developing as we have. He argues that it is more important at the moment to learn more about the whole universe from beginning to end, the whole shebang.
For many, his chapter on the subject of God, called Contrarian Theological Afterward, holds greatest interest. Does Ferris believe in God? I don't feel compelled to find his answer, because he has lifted my mind to lofty heights of wonder. He approaches the question as a scientist should. He traces the classic arguments for God, showing their weaknesses. One of his conclusions reads:
"So we are left with—what? In my view, a situation in which we would clearly be better off if we left God out of cosmology altogether. The origin of the universe and of the constants of nature is a mystery, and may forever remain so. But to assign to God the job of doing everything we don’t (yet) understand is to abuse the concept of God." (p. 310)His final paragraph is a call to a higher idea of religion than is commonly accepted. It is a direction for religion in a century that has moved far beyond the understanding of our world and the universe(s) in which our bibles were written and faiths formed. Ferris concludes:
"Whether he left or was ever here I do not know, and don't believe we ever shall know. But one can learn to live with ambiguity—that much is requisite to the seeking spirit—and with the silence of the stars. All who genuinely seek to learn, whether atheist of believer, scientist or mystic, are united in have not a faith but faith itself. Its token is reverence, its habit to respect the eloquence of silence. For God's hand may be a human hand, if you reach out in loving kindness, and God's voice your voice, if you but speak the truth." (p. 312)Amen.