We have cited the link to The Darwin Conspiracy, below. Because the book was online once and then disappeared, we might post a coverted pdf-to-word version of some keys passages.
Enezio E. de Almeida Filho said,
July 27, 2013 at 4:56 pm · Edit
I found a link for the full text of Roy Davies’s The Darwin Conspiracy:
Thanks to Ernesto!
We have a lot of discussion of this book here: http://darwiniana.com/index.php?s=darwin+conspiracy
Read this book carefully to see how the plagiarism happened: it is quite tricky at first…
From the facts they unearthed, supplemented by new evidence discovered while researching this book, there is little doubt that a compelling case can be made against Darwin that would allow any reasonable person to conclude it is likely he committed one of the greatest thefts of intellectual property in the history of science.
The Darwin Conspiracy, by Roy Davies
IN THE mid-nineteenth century, Great Britain boasted two scientists who were to change forever the way mankind viewed the world. Despite their individual gifts, they were as unlike as any two men of ideas could possibly be. One was rich, privileged, highly educated and connected to important families in Victorian society; the other worked for a living, had no significant social connections and left school at the age of fourteen.
The first, after years of hunting and shooting, became conventional and dutiful, and bore the weight of expectation willingly; the other, self- taught, was instinctive, radical, free-thinking, open and unbound by convention throughout his life. The older figure, following a long voyage of wonder in his young manhood, married, bred a large family, inherited substantial wealth and invested wisely, but afterwards rarely travelled far from his home in rural Kent in the southeast of England. The younger, who had no thoughts of marriage, roamed, often alone, the rainforests of the Amazon basin and modern Malaysia and Indonesia. One was brought up to believe in and respect the Christian Church (and even, at one time, to consider it as a career), while the other had no time for its dogma and paralysing power over the minds of men.
Of one, Charles Darwin, you will most certainly have heard. Of the other, Alfred Russel Wallace, you may well have heard nothing.
One hundred and fifty years ago, after exhausting feats of research, observation and analysis, both men were acknowledged by their peers to be considered joint discoverers of the theory of evolution. At that time, the stranglehold of religion on Victorian society was such that only brave or foolish people rejected its teaching and its authority. Along with everyone else, both men were expected to accept without question that everything in the world was the work of a knowing, ever-present, all-powerful God. The Church told people how to act, what to think, when to work and when to rest.
The influence of the Church had not always been this great. In former times, philosophers, artists and wise men, from Ancient Greece to Renais- sance Europe, had pondered how the incredible variety of forms of life they saw around them might have been produced. Some came within
touching distance of what we now know as the theory of evolution. However, although many argued for the fact of evolution, none could indicate exactly how it happened.
The theory of natural selection has been defined as ‘a bias acting within a species which promotes the survival of some variants and not others thus making for a change within the species’.1 The statement is lucid and simple, but the solution to the essential question – how does that initial bias become so magnified that it can cause change? – eluded many of the greatest thinkers for more than two thousand years. Ideas of causal factors swung between the work of a Creator and nature’s inherent patterning. Empedocles, Aristotle, Epicurus, Lucretius, Gregory of Nyssa, St. Augustine, Avicenna and Leonardo da Vinci had all offered their thoughts before Francisco Suárez (1548–1617), a Spanish Jesuit priest writing after the Moors had been banished from Spain, attempted to put an end to secular speculation and declared that every form of life was created by God, and remained unchanged until it became extinct. He also insisted that no living organism could mutate into another form. Suarez’s doctrine became the official policy for the Christian Church, and was a direct cause of the strict orthodoxy that was still in place at the beginning of the nineteenth century.
In the intervening centuries, Francis Bacon (1561–1626), René Descartes (1596–1650) and Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz (1646–1716) all favoured natural causes for species change, before Carl Linnaeus (1707–
1778) insisted that species are created by God, and are forever fixed and unchanging. His direct contemporary, Georges-Louis Leclerc Buffon (1707–1788), while he was unable to dismiss God’s influence entirely, invoked natural causes; even Charles Darwin’s own grandfather Erasmus (1731–1802) claimed, on little evidence, that the ape was a direct prede- cessor of man. In the two volumes of his Zoonomia published in 1794 and
1796, he also expressed the idea that characteristics acquired by individ- uals in the struggle for life could be passed on to their descendants. A few years later, Jean-Baptiste Lamarck (1744–1829) argued that animals mutate because the struggle to survive causes advantageous changes in physical structure, which can be passed on to offspring. This idea left Lamarck open to criticism and eventually undermined his arguments. The way was then left clear for Étienne Geoffroy St. Hilaire (1722–1844) to suggest that some organisms adapt and survive when environments change, while unsuccessful adaptations perish and become extinct. St. Hilaire had come closest to understanding the process of evolutionary change, but he, also, failed to explain exactly what caused an animal to change its form, or why millions of species on earth had emerged from a
common ancestral species. After St. Hilaire’s pronouncement, Georges Cuvier, a French academic, criticised both Lamarck and St. Hilaire for theorising, rather than dealing with the facts of the natural world around them. In the meantime, Alphonse de Candolle, Jean Louis Agassiz and Charles Lyell offered alternative ideas, which again led the emphasis of the debate back to the omnipotence of a Creator.
By 1830, the stage was set to welcome the incredibly fertile brains of Charles Darwin and Alfred Russel Wallace, who, ten years apart and unknown to each other, were to undertake the challenge of solving the mystery of the origin of species. They both used Charles Lyell’s ideas as a springboard. Because of their backgrounds, however, they were to take entirely different elements of his convictions as starting points.
Charles Lyell (1797–1875) was a deeply religious man who was convinced that everything in the world had been created by God. He was also a brilliant natural philosopher who helped to provide convincing geological evidence that the planet was millions of years old, and had certainly not been created little more than four thousand years before Christ, which was the orthodox teaching of the Church. He managed to reconcile the differences between his religious belief and his geological discoveries to his own satisfaction, but both Darwin and Wallace were to reject the elements of Lyell’s theory that did not appeal to their back- ground beliefs, and accept those elements that fitted their needs.
Darwin’s early theoretical approach was based partly on Lyell’s reli- gious belief in a world of harmony and balance created by God, where species were perfectly adapted to their environment. Beyond that point, however, he had no need of a supernatural force in his explanation of natural selection. Wallace, a few years later, shunned Lyell’s belief in a world devised by a Creator, but grasped with both hands Lyell’s geolog- ical discoveries and used them as primary evidence that evolution had no need of God. He discounted all Lyell’s religious ideas, but was fascinated by his theories of geological strata and evidence of fossils found in sequences of rock layers. He drew strength and certainty from Lyell’s practical teachings about the real age of the world and folded these ideas into his own development of a theory of evolution.
Years later, both Charles Darwin and Alfred Russel Wallace were acclaimed equally for unlocking the secrets of the evolutionary process. So how did Darwin manufacture so much fame for himself and how has Wallace been denied his place in the pantheon of great British scientists so completely, despite the fact that they were both credited at the same time and on the same day with having discovered one of the most important truths about the natural world? The answers are to be found in the
communications system of the mid-nineteenth century, something that is of great significance in this tale of Darwin’s rivalry, ambition and subse- quent plagiarism.
In the main period covered by this book, communication was by letter. The written word was threatened only by the new technology of the tele- graph, which linked countries but not yet continents, and transmitted only the briefest messages. Letters delivered the news, bonded relations and kept empires functioning. Backed by the British Government and the Admiralty, the system of despatching and delivering carefully guarded shipments of letters, packages and parcels around the world was, accidents notwithstanding, totally secure and incredibly efficient. ‘The mail’ was the news. It came to Britain by ship from the United States, Canada, the West Indies, South America and South Africa. Twice every month, the India and China mails came from the Far East in secured boxes. These ship- ments were under the strict supervision of former Royal Naval officers, who had the authority to overrule the ships’ captains if the safety of the mail was threatened.
For the political leaders of a country engaged in extensive military actions overseas (there was unrest in India and attacks on British naval forces in China), the latest reports from ambassadors, Army and Navy commanders and government officials were crucially important. For financial and general news, there was the background reporting and inter- pretation of events by correspondents of The Times, whose reports were completed and taken aboard even as the homeward-bound liners readied themselves to leave port. Short telegraph messages from ports in the Mediterranean gave hints of longer reports contained in the first-class mail that would arrive in London by boat-train within a day. Then, about five days later, eyewitnesses to unfolding events in Bengal or Canton landed in Southampton after a six-week journey on the high seas. For those in England who waited in expectation, the arrival of the bulk mail and the news it delivered made the headlines.
The weather sometimes slowed the progress of a ship, but usually only by a day or two. The timetable was strictly observed, and letters went astray so rarely that it is difficult to find any examples. The Dutch, who used the same Peninsular and Oriental (P&O) shipping liners as the British Government, reported that in the whole of 1858, of the myriad letters received via the India and China mails, only one was delivered late at the house to which it was addressed.
The delivery of the India and China mails is an immensely important detail in the apparent coincidence of Darwin and Wallace cracking the evolutionary code at precisely the same time from such different starting
points. The story that will be told in this book is light-years away from the established orthodoxy, which states that a letter from Wallace caused Darwin to rush to establish his claim to be the first to outline the theory of evolution. An increasing body of evidence contradicts the received view of Charles Darwin as a benevolent man who, alone, unaided and without precursors, was inspired to write On the Origin of Species. At the heart of that famous historical event lies a deliberate and iniquitous case of intellectual theft, deceit and lies perpetrated by Charles Darwin. This book will also argue that two of the greatest Victorian scientists were willing accom- plices.
Some academics who have studied the development of Darwin’s theory have found glaring inconsistencies that are not easily answered. This research has dripped steadily but infrequently into the literature surrounding the achievements of Darwin and Wallace over the past fifty years. Assessed collectively and dispassionately, it presents an astonishing glimpse into the mind and motivation of a man claimed as Britain’s greatest natural scientist. As well as presenting contemporary events in the lives of Darwin and Wallace and their fellow scientists, this book traces the progress of this historiographic detective work.
In his lifetime, Charles Darwin wrote some fourteen thousand letters, and came to know the shipping timetables very well. Now published as The Correspondence of Charles Darwin, his letters form a record that is unlikely to have any equivalent in today’s electronic world. The efficiency of the Post Office, and Darwin’s meticulous filing system, means that he can be continually assessed and reassessed, nearly 130 years after his death.
It was, therefore, inevitable that Darwin’s life would be examined closely by academic researchers. Among papers that were first made avail- able fifty years ago, scholars, for the most part American, began to uncover anomalies and coincidences that allowed them to question Darwin’s probity and ethical behaviour in the years following his return from the Beagle voyage. Rapid advances in photocopying and microfilm technology during the 1950s allowed some of them access to documents they needed in order to verify their claims.
From the facts they unearthed, supplemented by new evidence discov- ered while researching this book, there is little doubt that a compelling case can be made against Darwin that would allow any reasonable person to conclude it is likely he committed one of the greatest thefts of intellec- tual property in the history of science.