In Oklahoma, Representatives Mike Reynolds and Sally Kern, both Republicans from Oklahoma City, have again filed a "religious expression" bill, which they say will protect students who express religious viewpoints in the classroom or assignments from being penalized (or rewarded). The measure, known officially as the "Religious Viewpoints Antidiscrimination Act," is essentially the same as a bill that was passed earlier this year by both the House and Senate before being vetoed by Governor Brad Henry.
According to Kern, the "bill does not exempt students from learning the required classroom instruction. If passed, the bill would put already existing U.S. Supreme Court decisions into Oklahoma statutes." But many, including the Oklahoma Science Teachers Association, believe the bill is an attempt to sneak religious ideas into public school science classrooms, given that it "would require full classroom credit to be given to religious explanations of scientific phenomena." In response to the bill filed during last legislative session, the association issued the following statement:

The Oklahoma Science Teachers Association (OSTA) is dedicated to the promotion and development of high quality science education for all students in Oklahoma. The development of a scientifically literate citizenry, conversant in principles and processes of science, is essential for any state or nation to be competitive in a global economy. The effort to grow 21st century industry and agriculture, including Oklahoma’s burgeoning research in nanotechnology and biotechnology, depends on the availability of a scientifically literate workforce that understands the process of posing and testing hypotheses, logically evaluating the results, and expanding our understanding of the natural world. OSTA believes the provisions of HB 2211 hold great potential for harm to the development of scientifically literate citizens in this state. Teachers will be shackled in their efforts to guide students to explore scientific data and explanation and will be forced to give full credence and course credit to viewpoints that have no scientific data or basis. The damage to the credibility of an Oklahoma high school diploma cannot be overstated. While some might posit that examination and exploration of alternative viewpoints is appropriate in a classroom, those ideas that are not scientific and cannot be tested have no place in a science classroom. Under the provisions of this bill, teachers will be required to give full forum to non-scientific viewpoints and will be prevented from explaining that such ideas have no scientific support. Provisions currently in law and expressed in the Constitution give ample protection for religious expression within schools. The Oklahoma Science Teachers Association believes the late Harvard Paleontologist Steven J. Gould’s concept of “Nonoverlapping Magisteria” accurately reflects the interaction of science and religion; both having important, but non-interacting roles in helping us make sense of our place in the physical and spiritual world. HB 2211 actively violates that concept in a direct effort to inject religious viewpoints into public school classrooms and should not be enacted.

Julian Barnes' book Nothing to Be Frightened Of, a "memoir on mortality that touches on faith and science and family," has been named one of the 10 best books of 2008 by The New York Times. "This absorbing memoir traces Barnes’ progress from atheism (at age 20) to agnosticism (at 60) and examines the problem of religion not by rehashing the familiar quarrel between science and mystery, but rather by weighing the timeless questions of mortality and aging," writes the newspaper. "Barnes distills his own experiences—and those of his parents and brother—in polished and wise sentences that recall the writing of Montaigne, Flaubert and the other French masters he includes in his discussion."

FROM ENTERTAINMENT REPORTER KIMBERLY ROOTS: We begin this week in Philadelphia, where Mitchell Loeb and his crew break into a bank. They set up a larger-scale version of his apple experiment from a couple episodes back and then walk through a solid wall to gain access to the vault. The effects look pretty cool. They cut a safe-deposit box out of the wall and haul it through the wall, but there’s a mishap and one member of the team is left in the vault. As the window of time draws to a close, the man gets unstuck and starts to exit … just as the wall solidifies around his torso. Uncaring, Loeb shoots the trapped man in the forehead and orders the crew to take off.
A chatty Peter and Olivia arrive at the crime scene with Walter in tow. Before they get down to business, we learn that Olivia has a sister and went to boarding school. Enough with the pleasantries, kids: There’s work to be done. Phillip Broyles alerts them to three similar heists in the recent past, and Olivia recognizes the man in the wall as Raul Lugo, someone from her Marine unit. Far away in Germany, Robert Jones—who gave Olivia the code “Little Hill” a few episodes back—is meeting with his lawyer in prison. The lawyer tells Jones the Philly job was successful. That pleases Jones, who orders his lawyer to wire 100,000 dollars to Loeb and to bring him some seemingly random items, including sunblock, when he returns the next day.
Olivia arrives at Lugo’s home in Edison, New Jersey, a place she knows well from when she hung out with Lugo and his wife during her Marine years. Except—oops! — when Lugo’s estranged wife doesn’t recognize Olivia but confirms some memories she has, Olivia realizes John’s memories and her own have become so enmeshed, she can’t tell them apart anymore. Meanwhile, at Massive Dynamic, a scientist informs Nina Sharp that they’ve hit a wall retrieving John’s memories. Sharp’s not happy. Later, the scientist figures out that some of John’s memories may be in Olivia’s mind. Sharp gets a look on her face like she’s plotting something really evil.
At Harvard, Walter examines Lugo’s hand and theorizes that the bank crew used high-powered vibration to make the wall’s molecular structure permeable. The unfortunate side effect? Radiation poisoning. Peter and Olivia go to a bar to talk to Lugo’s friend; when that lead turns up dry, they drink and talk about Olivia’s uncanny ability to remember any number she sees. She rattles off the numbers of the missing safe-deposit boxes and Peter realizes they’re part of the Fibonacci sequence: Each is the sum of the previous two. When they tell Walter, he realizes that the boxes are his, taken out under pseudonyms, but he can’t remember why.
After the FBI crew misses another of Loeb’s jobs—this one in Providence, Rhode Island—they do manage to catch one of the team members. He’s a former Marine, one of Lugo’s pals from the VA Hospital, and Peter correctly diagnoses him with radiation sickness. The man claims not to know Loeb or what he’s doing, saying he was only hired as a freelance goon, but does remember something about meeting up at a field in Westford, Massachusetts. Olivia goes to a map and finds Little Hill Field there, and connects the dots. In Germany, Jones again meets with his lawyer and asks him to procure one more thing: Olivia. Eew.
At the lab, Walter remembers that Peter was deathly ill as a child. In an effort to find the one man who could help him, even though he’d been dead for years, Walter invented a machine that “in theory, could retrieve anyone from anywhere,” he recalls. But when Peter recovered on his own, the machine wasn’t necessary. The pieces, he posits, may be in the boxes Loeb’s men stole.
Indeed, at Little Hill Field, Loeb’s men have the device all set up. In Germany, Jones meets with his lawyer one more time, snaps his neck, and dons the dead man’s suit. He steps into the corner, rubs some sunblock on his face, pops a pill, and waits … as a light starts to shine around him. Back in America, Olivia’s on her way to the field when a car runs her off the road. Men jump out and tranquilize her, then carry her away. All of a sudden, Jones appears in Little Hill Field. Loeb meets him and gives him the news he wants to hear. “Well then,” Jones says, all smarmy and creepy. “Let’s not keep her waiting.”
Broyles calls Sharp to tell her Olivia’s missing. When he implies that Sharp’s got her stashed somewhere, she falls all over herself denying it. Might the lady protest too much?
THE BOTTOM LINE: By manipulating molecules to gain a specific result, Robert Jones, Mitchell Loeb, and their ilk are playing God—yet there’s very little question of whether they’re the good guys or the bad guys. Walter’s recollection about why the transporting device was first built (to save Peter’s life) puts him in the same category. Whether the machine is built to save a little boy’s life or to amass personal wealth and stature seems to be moot when such deity-like powers are up for grabs.
[Editor’s note: This will be the last Fringe recap for 2008. New episodes begin in January.]

This week, Marcus du Sautoy, a professor of mathematics at the University of Oxford, took over as the Charles Simonyi Professor for the Public Understanding of Science—the post previously held by Richard Dawkins. But Sautoy, who like Dawkins is an atheist, tells New Scientist magazine that he plans to be less controversial and again says he will not be launching his own attack on religion. "I think it's important for me to go in a new direction," he says. "Also, the joy of being Simonyi professor is that you can choose what you want to put your energy into. For me there are so many things to talk about in science: why it's exciting, entertaining and how it impacts on society. We have to make decisions about important scientific issues, and unless members of society are informed about them they'll be unable to get involved in that debate." —Heather Wax

"The key to achieving science literacy in this country, and to calming the ongoing hysteria of the religion-science debates, surely isn’t to dress science in faith and send our staunchest believers—and unbelievers—to the frontlines," Barbara King, an anthropologist at the College of William and Mary, writes in the "On God" column in the current issue of Search magazine. "The answer, instead, is communicating with the public. While I reject the notion that this process requires coming out of the closet (as person of faith, as agnostic, as atheist), I do believe scientists who want to offer insights about religion need to listen to the questions, the protests, the misgivings, the characterizations and mischaracterizations, and all the while, continue with the business of science."
In King's view, personal disclosures—or "revelations"—about religion, whether it's the expression of a personal faith that God does exist or that God doesn't, have become an "overpowering presence in terms of high profile scientists and their impact on public life." These scientists, she says, "write knowledgeably about the method and process of their work, but what they have to say about God often does no favors for the credibility of science."

A couple of years ago, Eiji Han Shimizu gave up his job at one of Japan's largest magazine publishers to work on a documentary about happiness. For the new project, he traveled from country to country (trying to find the secret of true happiness), and along the way, he began to organize groups of Japanese illustrators; together, he thought, they could create books that would promote positive messages by telling the histories of some of the greatest spiritual leaders. Today, Shimizu is the executive producer of Emotional Content, a network of manga artists and anime creators in Japan that publishes graphic novels about inspiring people—"true-life superheroes" who use their courage, compassion, and determination to fight on behalf of others and change the world for the better. Science & Religion Today spoke with Shimizu about the power of manga, the mission of his press, and the first book in its "superhero" series—a graphic adaptation of the "true story" of the 14th Dalai Lama.

Science & Religion Today: Why did you decide to use manga to tell these stories? Why do you think it's such a powerful storytelling vehicle?
Eiji Han Shimizu: Even to many avid biography readers, thousands of pages in a bulky book format sometimes could be intimidating and may hinder their intellectual pursuits. I was hoping to reinvent biographies into something more accessible for a wider audience worldwide by employing an unconventional yet easy-to-read medium, such as manga.
In Japan, we grow up reading lots of mangas and learn rather serious subjects from them, such as history and philosophy.

SRT: What makes someone a good "superhero" for one of your manga?
Shimizu: In my definition, superheroes do not have to be able to fly in the sky, cast laser beams from their eyes, or have six-pack abs. In fact, we have had many "superheroes" in our history who did not possess these special features or appearances, but surely have fought for others in suffering with their courage, self-sacrifice, compassion, and determination. I believe that these are true qualities of superheroes.

SRT: The first book tells the story of the Dalai Lama—what other biographic novels do you have planned?
Shimizu: Novels about Mother Teresa, Mahatma Gandhi, Aung San Suu Kyi, Che Guevara, and Anne Frank are in production. Also planned are novels about Martin Luther King Jr., Nelson Mandela, Malcolm X, Abraham Lincoln, John Lennon, and Dan Eldon.

SRT: How did the illustrator capture the country and its people—as well as the Dalai Lama's nonviolent struggle—and how important is it to match the right artist with the right project?
Shimizu: In the case of the Dalai Lama book, Tetsu Saiwai, the graphic artist of the title, went to Lhasa and did extensive research about the lives of Tibetan people. Also, as the producer of the title, I worked with the liaison office of His Holiness the Dalai Lama, interviewed some of the key researchers of Tibet (including Pico Iyer) about the historical facts, and got the rough drafts reviewed by the liaison office several times during the production.
For similar reasons, I went to Cuba to meet the son of Che Guevara for his father's biography. I visited the Home for the Dying Destitute in Calcutta for the Mother Teresa biography and the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam. I also have meetings with the Burmese refugee families in Tokyo for the Aung San Suu Kyi story.
It is very important to select right artists for right manga themes because each one has a different tone and aesthetic. In the selection process, I review the past works of artists, find their pros and cons, and match them with biographic stories.

SRT: How much creative freedom does each artist have?
Shimizu: Since all the stories are based on true stories, we ask artists to collect as much information as possible about their subjects and adapt them graphically as accurately as possible. However, just like in movie editing, in order to create "dramas" in stories, we allow them to create imaginary dialogues or change the orders of true events in the timeline.

SRT: Your stories are designed to be informational, but also inspirational. What message do you hope will reach readers?
Shimizu: Not too long ago, or even today, these great figures did exist on earth. We believe that by delivering the lives of these heroes in a very animated way using these mediums, we can effectively protest against human rights violations, atrocities, and exploitation—rampant throughout the world—as well as spread and advocate the fundamental, precious values of altruism, compassion, and philanthropy to people of all ages and walks of life.
Our mission is to create and distribute media content that will inform, inspire, and empower others to generate positive actions in the world.

SRT: How have the books been received so far?
Shimizu: We are receiving inquires for foreign language rights around the world. Also, I was asked if we can translate the Dalai Lama book into Tibetan and use it as a textbook for the exiled Tibetan children in Northern India. I am looking forward to the development of this project.

FROM RABBI RICHARD ADDRESS, UNION FOR REFORM JUDAISM: A few weeks ago, I found myself at a communal “religious” event, a “miracle” of sorts that has occurred only twice in my lifetime. I was standing at Broad and Ellsworth streets in Philadelphia, surrounded by (well, joining with) some 2 million fellow worshipers as we witnessed the parade celebrating the Phillies’ World Series victory. How curious that in the midst of such great social and economic friction and fear, so many people came together to celebrate. Then again, maybe it was not so curious after all, since the need for community and connection has never seemed more self-evident.
Last week, Stephen Post expressed his passionate belief in the power of giving—again, a reminder that being with and involved with people is a healing and transformative act. I am especially mindful of this in light of the current economic challenges. Perhaps there has never been a greater need for acts of communal support, altruism, and caring than now. I am concerned that many of our religious institutions may not see this as a major opportunity to really actualize their message of caring and support, though I know that within the Jewish community, a growing number of congregations are creating both educational programs and people-centered “in-reach” programs to provide a supportive ecology for their people. These includes loan programs, food banks, resource support, mental health support, and financial planning help.
One additional thought has emerged as well: Many people may, as a result of the current economic circumstances, feel isolated and alone. There are profound psycho-spiritual issues involved if one looses a job and is cut off from the therapeutic social context of work. Likewise, there may be older adults within a community whose “fixed” incomes have been damaged and their lifestyle may be compromised. This is the time for caring volunteers to make sure that we keep in contact with these people who may fall through the cracks. Calls, visits, and contacts need to be maintained to make sure people are not being forced to choose between a meal and a full dosage of their medication. Isolation, be it physical, economic, social, or spiritual leads to a slow and painful death of the soul.
As Jewish tradition reminds us, we are each responsible for the other. Personal interaction, friendship, and community involvement can help reduce anxiety and fear. This is a time when communities of faith need to speak messages of hope and support. Who knows what these encounters may create?