The Propaganda of “Science Deniers”: Why Do They Deny Evidence?

The phrase “science denier” has become a common weapon in public debate. At first glance it sounds serious, even damning. Who would want to deny science, the enterprise that gave us electricity, antibiotics, and space travel? Yet the vagueness of the phrase is the key to its use as a propaganda tool.

Most people don’t deny that the moon exists. Even the few who claim it’s a hologram are not treated as a serious problem. Likewise, no one denies that water boils at a certain temperature or that plants carry out photosynthesis. These are observable, testable, and repeatable facts. If someone rejected them, there would be no need to call them a ‘science denier.’ They would be ignored, because the evidence is plain. 

So when the phrase “science denier” gets deployed, it is not about uncontested truths. It is almost always aimed at a narrow set of controversial claims that are tied to a larger worldview. Evolutionary biology, climate modeling, cosmology, and deep-time geology are the common battlegrounds. None of these fields can offer the same kind of direct observation as chemistry in a lab or mechanics in a workshop. They depend on extrapolations, computer models, and assumptions about an unobservable past.

The dominant worldview behind this is materialism—the belief that all of reality can only be explained as the result of physical matter. This is striking, because many of the figures who made the greatest contributions to science, the ones who unlocked its deepest laws, were not materialists at all. Yet today, materialism has become the dogma. Its philosophical premise is treated as if it were science itself. As a result, even when this perspective contradicts the evidence, the evidence is said to be in violation of science.

You can see this in many places: the way fine-tuning of the universe is explained away, the way the fossil record is made to tell the opposite of what it shows most clearly, and the way the hard problem of consciousness is sidestepped. In each case, the evidence is forced to serve the philosophy, not the other way around.

Here lies the sleight of hand. By labeling critics as “deniers of science,” defenders of a paradigm are not actually defending testable facts. They are defending their interpretation. Most in the general public, who end up repeating these attacks, don’t realize the difference. They borrow the credibility of science in general and use it as a shield for claims that are, by their very nature, speculative. The tactic works because the public hears “science” and thinks of vaccines, airplanes, or bridges—not long chains of assumptions about events no one ever witnessed.

What they don’t see is that claims like “99% of all species vanished from the fossil record,” or “abiogenesis was possible at some point in the past,” or “at the big bang the universe expanded light years in size in a fraction of a second and then abruptly stopped,” or “RNA came first” are all speculative gap-fillers. They are treated as though they were established facts. Questioning them, however, is branded as “denying science.” That label conveniently ignores what is taught in the very first chapter of biology: the law of biogenesis, that life comes only from life.

In effect, the phrase hides the real dispute. The person raising a question about evolutionary pathways or about climate projections is not denying that cells divide or that CO₂ traps heat. They are pointing out discrepancies, contradictions, or weaknesses in a specific theoretical model. By expanding the accusation to all of science, critics are framed as irrational, when in reality they are asking the same skeptical questions that drive real science forward.

This rhetorical tactic is also a form of self-protection. When someone’s worldview is deeply invested in a theory, admitting uncertainty feels dangerous. Rather than grapple with the challenge, it is easier to brand the challenger as a “denier.” That ends the conversation before it begins.

Real science does not need this kind of defense. Real science welcomes hard questions, thrives on skepticism, and admits its limits. When someone says “you’re denying science,” it usually means they are defending a belief system under the banner of science. Otherwise, one should put a real defense against the claim being made, rather than relying on tropes that appear to be self-defeating.

The irony is obvious. If anything, the uncritical use of “science denier” reveals a denial of science, because it refuses to engage with evidence and argument. Science is not a creed to be defended by slogans. It is a method, and it is only as strong as its willingness to be tested. That brings me to another point. Most people don’t understand what science is.

They believe, in many cases, that “science” is simply whatever philosophical assumption or response a materialist makes. I recently wrote an article on Michael Behe’s claim about the irreducible complexity of the bacterial flagellum. Every single negative response I received did one of two things: point back to the 2005 Dover ruling by Judge Jones, who openly admitted he had no scientific background, or post links to papers written by materialists that, when read carefully, only offered speculative scenarios with no real explanation. 

Ironically, the favorite response was Kenneth Miller’s claim of “co-option,” a hypothetical solution that suggests a similar irreducible system could have been the source. But a similar irreducible system does not explain how either one originated, nor how blind processes could form parts that only work once all are present together. A bicycle and a motorcycle share some features, but both are irreducibly complex in their own right. You can’t dismiss the complexity of a motorcycle by pointing to a bicycle. Both require multiple parts working together before either can function at all. Kenneth Miller identifies as a Christian, and some believe that to be evidence against Behe’s claim, but it’s not. Either way, the truth is that Miller’s career, as an “evolutionary” biologist is built on materialist-only assumptions. In practice, his arguments treat materialism as the sole framework for science, leaving no room for evidence that challenges the Darwinian narrative his career has been constructed around.

Nevertheless, the gaslighting tactic of calling skeptics “science deniers” commits several logical fallacies in a self-deluded way, and what ties them all together is the need to shield a worldview from scrutiny but also the irony of responding in an unscientific matter. 

One of these is projection: the accusation is flipped, and critics are charged with ignoring evidence when in fact it is often the defenders who refuse to face the weaknesses in their own framework. Another is circular reasoning, where the argument assumes what it needs to prove. The logic goes, “My interpretation equals science. If you question my interpretation, you deny science.” In other words, the conclusion is built into and imposed by the premise. A third is confirmation bias. The phrase “science denier” works because it sounds like it must be referring to something obvious, such as cancer research. But almost always, it’s a go-to response about far less certain claims, ones that are otherwise difficult to defend with real answers.

Taken together, these fallacies form a shield against real engagement. They allow someone to avoid evidence, protect a fragile assumption, and still feel as though they are defending “science.” In reality, they are only defending a worldview from questions it cannot answer.

For a more comprehensive study of this pattern, and how it plays out across cosmology, biology, and beyond, see my book, Natural Technology: The Theory of Everything.

For questions for S. A. Cooper, or if there’s a topic you’d like him to cover, you can send a message here.

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