It can be said with surety that science in Muslim countries today is underdeveloped, and that by and large Muslim societies are scientifically illiterate. Where once Muslims defined and shaped the sciences, today our contribution to science is platry; pathetic might be a better word. In fact, most reliable indicators suggest the scientific output from Muslim countries is nearly negligible. Science is challenging our core notions on what it means to be human and some might even push science to answer why we are, as opposed to just what we are. But we are not involved in the debates surrounding science and its place in the societies we inhabit.
There are possible exceptions to the current norm: Iran and Turkey seem to offer the best hope of a rigorous and good science emerging from an Islamic context (do not confuse this for the "Islamisation of science"). Indeed, according to a study (paid link, here is another link discussing the results) last year by the the UK's cheif science advisor to the government, only Iran managed to (just about) enter the top 30 nations in terms of scientific contribution. And both Turkey and Iran are the only OIC members whose universities make any sort of impact on global scale according to the ISI. That only two people from Muslim countries have won Nobel Prizes in science, and that even these scientists had to conduct their research outside their birth countries (although in the case of the 1979 winner for physics, the Pakistani scientist Abdus Salam, had to leave because of persecution; he was an Ahmadi) merely underlines the point. There is some talk of change for the better in other Muslim countries, but we shall see.
There are some real economic and political concerns which do hamper development. Undoubtedly you need money, spent correctly, to produce institutitons that can produce science of a high calibre (though this isn't the limiting factor -- the UK has a better citation rate per unit GDP than the US, although the latter is vastly richer). Here the economic argument sometimes merges with the political one. Vested foreign interests do indeed prevent Muslim coutries -- who also happen to be some of the poorest -- from spending an adequete amount on health, education, and other basic necessities. Many Muslim countries labour under huge outstanding debt. Though one often finds it is these same Muslim countries that will spend lavish sums on arms to defend themselves in wars they usually manage to lose, or on armamants they don't know how to use except on their own populations. And let's not forget that the political classes in Muslim countries -- that is the ruling classes in almost all Muslim countries -- have systematically raped the wealth of their nations and, with rare exceptions, are happy for such a state of affairs to continue. This situation has arisen partly because Muslims have not managed to create stable forms of government in the current era, content as we are to either ignore the question altogether (even acquiescing in crimes comitted by the various kleptocracts and autocrats), or engage in utopian projects which are often so hoplessly unrealistic that it's frightening; worse still, some of us, in our pious delusions, try to recreate the past (this is something that is impossible to do for so many reasons). Political instability doesn't lend itself to creating a culture of learning, or attracting foreign talent and investment (which you need if you want to develop leading science institutions). In fact Muslims countries probably produce a net-loss of 'brains'. The state of science in the richer Muslim countries leaves a lot to be desired.
But this isn't a new issue. Indeed it is now over a century old. The response from Muslims started to take shape around the late 19th-century, when some Muslims -- who we might say created "Islamic modernism" -- concluded that it was science and technology (crudely, the 'application of science') that had given the West the upperhand. The response from the modernists was simple enough: since, in fact, We Gave The World Science Several Hundred Years Ago, then our re-appropriation of this science was perfectly legitimate and desirable, even an obligation of sorts from the Almighty Himself. The very word ilm in Islamic discourse was taken to mean all forms of knowledge and especially scientific knowledge. And it was these modernists whose real legacy to the ummah was to define the Muslim discourse on science in the 20th-century; for by and large Muslims have continued to accept modern science and her technologies on practical, pragmatic and an ad-hoc basis. But there are unresolved issues with this path.
I contend that one of the reasons (though not the only reason) why we have a 'poverty of science' in Muslim countries is because 'pure' science is viewed as potentially subversive, as good science only recognises its own internal logic. Modern technology, on the other hand, is viewed as 'useful'. Not even the most "conservative" Muslim politician, for example, will denounce the television if he can appear on it to propogate his opinions. The Taliban drove SUVs, carried modern firearms, and used mobile telephones to communicate. Bin Laden uses satellite technology, and the internet has become a source of propoganda for many would-be "jihadis". In fact, the lust with which Muslim countries gather modern forms of weaponary would give psychoanalysts a field day. But science and technology go hand-in-hand (though aren't neccessarily linked), and both change the way in which we view the world. Modern science also changes the way in which we view space, time and being. It changes what we think of when it comes to our bodies and our minds, and how these are controlled. What does it mean, for example, when at the quantam level everything is said to be indeterminate and indeed unknowable? What does that do to certainty? Take more practical examples. How well does the design of modern weaponary, whose sole purpose is to inflict as much pain as possible, sit within an Islamic ethical view? Do we endorse flesh-burning devices in a war? Time, something very precious in many religious traditions and without doubt in the Islamic traditions, has changed immensley thanks to so many modern technologies and functions of the modern city. In classical Islamic traditions, the journey to seek knowledge was an arduous one, but considered a very rewarding one (if done for the sake of God, of course). Many famous names in Muslim memory endured the perils that came with travelling across hundreds of miles 'to seek (religious) knowledge'. But today, we can cruise to the other side of the world and keep in touch with our loved ones via the telephone, the email, and in the future who knows? Is the physical and mental effort lost somewhat? God knows best. I am not saying that any of these technologies are "good" or "bad" in anyway (indeed, they're possibley "good" in many way) or that someone making the trek to seek similar knowledge is any less worthwhile (that would be an outrageous claim anyway). But in our age the mental and physical spaces probably appear different to what they would have done in, say, the 11th-century. Technology has helped that change occur.
In many Muslim countries religious establishments compete with secular universities and we can have a good guess which attract the best and agile minds. Is this a good thing for our communities? In addition, this juxtaposition of a 'secular' cirricula and a 'religious' education can have the danger of creating double-think: we need to start making spaces for our religious beliefs which are sheltered from the ever-growing space that science tries to occupy. This can create a sort of 'intellectual fiedism' (or a 'fideistic phantasmagoria' if you want -- thanks to Eteraz for that fantastic phrase). A stronger version of this would be to give religious truth precedence over a scientific claim. In this case we need to ask (i) how far can our claims that our religion is compatible with science be held (which many Muslims do claim); and (ii) whether we want to continue learning this modern science, which could have both long- and short-term implications.
One response to the existing dislocated state of affairs has been to try and create an "Islamic science". One such path of this "science" is the ugly and profane attempt to distort science so it marries a religious belief -- or even worse to distort a religious text in order to fit the science. Everything from the Big Bang, DNA, evolution, oceanography, space travel, as well cures to a variety of illnesses and debilitating conditions (e.g. diabetes, stomach ulcers, rheumatism, high blood pressure and dysentery) are said to have been anticipated in the Qur'an (and the hadith literature) long before the emergence of modern science.  In doing so we've turned an unknown French surgeon  into an household name and created an entire industry whose sole purpose is to produce bad science, which some have the temerity to call "Islamic science". Other similar attempts at such an "Islamic science" include trying to harness jinn to solve the world's energy crisis, or deriving formulae to calculate the level of hypocrisy in a society. I contend this has something to do with the crude way in which science and religion are taught. Indeed, it isn't surprising that such apologetic material is promoted mostly by technically-literate Muslims who have had a secular education and understand the importance and power of the scientific argument in the current world.
There have been more genuine attempts at making an "Islamic science". These include attempts in the late 1970s and 1980s to create an ethically-based Islamic science by Ziauddin Sardar and the "Ijmalis" (a group of academics who published their ideas in the journal Inquiry).  The Ijmalis followed the science-as-a-social-contruct path of some post and believed that the purpose of science was to solve problems for societies. Modern science was tied too strongly to Western cultures, and so dangerous to Muslim societies. As such an "Islamic science" would be have to be tied to Islamic cultures and an Islamic ethics. This seems to repudiate not only Islamic history -- where science flowed from the outside in to help create an Muslim scientific tradition -- but also has philosophical problems: how do you create an ethically-sound science if you do not produce a philosophy or ontology, but merely reduce all knowledge to sociology (which is what happens when we make everything merely a form of "construction")? However, Sardar has outlined explicit demands, unlike others discussed below, of what this Islamic science needs to do: to solve problems that directly affect Muslims, such as disease, poor sanitation and agriculture. Also outlined was an attempt to further traditional knowledges, especially medicine.
Ismail Raji al-Faruqi's "Islamisation of knowledge" (or 'Islamization' if you read American English) suffered from similar problems: by concentrating solely on the social sciences, and holding this to be the real arbiter of "truth", that project created a sort of 'sociologism'.  Even the traditional alim became subject to a truth-check by the Muslim social scientist and his Islamised form of knowledge. In addition, unless al-Faruqi was claiming that the Islamised form of knowledge was more 'objective' than the 'secular knowledge' he criticised, then what would be the point of this knowledge? And would someone who was not a Muslim be able to accept and use such knowledge? Both Sardar and Munawar Anees  have criticised the Islamisation project because of its ignorance surrounding the natural sciences, and its acceptance, implicitly, of the modern division of knowledge. While the Islamisation project is now centred around the International Institute for Islamic Thought (IIIT) in the US, the Ijmali position is less well represented since they are not associated with any particular establishments and so less able to disseminate its ideas.
Another attempt at an Islamic science is Seyyed Hossein Nasr , the Iranian-American philosopher, and Muzaffar Iqbal  a Pakistani-Canadian chemist. Nasr, known for his criticisms of all forms of modernity, has posited that an Islamic science must differ from modern science, not only by setting a few ethical limits or providing an epistemic correction to its practioneers, but by starting from scratch. That is by remaking a science which is intertwined with an Islamic ontology and philosophy. Nasr regards modern science being based on the secularised assumptions arising from the Reformation and then the Enlightenment (although this misses the important point that many Christians saw their science as an investigation of the Revelation by God called 'Nature'). More explicitly, Iqbal suggests that a scientist, who has also trained in the Islamic tradition and whose world is informed by an Islamic metaphysics (based on the Qur'an and the Prophetic sunnah), namely that of tawhid, will once again retread the path of al-Biruni, Ibn Sina or al-Haytham. The science made by such people was rooted in a particular cosmological view and regarded knowledge obtained about the world as in conformity with revealed knowledge (which comes direct from God). This requires, according to Nasr and Iqbal, a recreation of the view of nature as a sign (ayat) from God, of which an investigation would lead to the "traditional sense of contemplation [...] not in the modern sense of analytical function of the mind". But how does this neccessarily differ from science today, when the very notion of purpose (or "contemplation" in a traditional sense) is something that modern science never claims to investigate? Indeed it is psuedo-science that suggests that there is a way of measuring or testing 'purpose', whether this be religious or secular; scientism, the idea that all is explained by the scientific method, is in fact not science or appears to be an abuse of science. For example, a Muslim seeing some pattern in nature, would obviously say this is a pattern which was created and sustained by God; the scientific explanation to this Muslim explains merely a "what" or "how" but leaves out the "why". It is the "why" which integrates this "fact" into the overall cosmological view of the Muslim (provided ultimately by revealed knowledge). An atheist seeing the same pattern, while perhaps appreciating its aesthetic quality, will usually stop at the scientific explanation give by a biologist, chemist or a physicist; the "why" for this atheist is meaningless or is limited to "coincidence". But in neither case has the individual interfered with "the science". Iqbal's and Nasr's moves to create an Islamic science run the risk of tying up particular scientific claims with the metaphysical truths of a particular religious tradition. Iqbal, wanting to recreate what he calls the "Islamic scientific tradition", runs the danger of resurrecting the truths that sustained that particular tradition before it withered.  For example, many Muslims who worked within the tradition Iqbal describes also worked on and advanced alchemy, the aims of which we understand are useless (you can't change base metals). Today we would be loathed to say that their work on alchemy is neccessarily associated with some Islamic metaphysical truth. The main benefit of Nasr's and Iqbal's approach, however, is that there is an attempt to produce a holistic vision of knowledge, rather than disperate attempts at explaining this or that element of "life" -- in this they certainly reflect the better Islamic approach (since tawhid is the integral feature of Islam).
Iqbal and Nasr have also been criticised by Sardar and Anees for their attempts to reduce or limit science within a mystical hierarchy; Sardar has criticised Nasr's idea of 'sacred science' as essentially being part of the mystic's estoeric experience. In this case it ceases to be anything useful to society. In return Iqbal has decribed the Ijamli attempt as 'shallow', a mere 'grafting of Islamic ethics onto modern science' while Nasr claims Sardar is ignorant of the history of Islamic science. There is an obvious clash of purposes between Sadar and Anees on the one hand and Iqbal and Nasr on the other: the former see their attempts at Islamic science as a means to find solutions for problems that affect Muslim societies within certain ethical limits (for example weapons research is deemed contrary to a true Islamic spirit); the latter see the ultimate aim of science as a form of understanding 'the Absolute', a form of 'religious knowledge' as it were. 
Pervez Hoodbhoy, professor of high-energy at Qaid-e-Azam university, Islamabad, best represents the demands that Muslim societies need to increase their assimilation and integration of modern science in order to arrest their decline. He also sees himself as a critic of "religious orthodoxy".  His call echoes the call of his fellow countryman, the scientist Abdus Salam, as well as the modernists of the late 19th- and early 20th-century. Indeed, Hoodbhoy demands that Muslims must abandon all idea of an "Islamic science", which is a delusion in his opinion, and accelerate learning of modern science to arrest their decline and eventual destruction; 'Darwinian logic' dictates this. He has criticised both Sardar and Nasr of doing a disservice to Muslims in their insistence on making an "Islamic science" for Muslim consumption. Hoodbhoy's argument rests on the rejection of relativism in science: there is no such thing as "Islamic science" or "Western science" but only good science and bad science. So he is concerned that non-scientists should not dictate what does and does not make science. From Islamic history, he picks out Ibn Rushd (and a few others like Ibn Sina and Ibn Khaldun) as the paradigm to follow, because of his unwavering comittment to rationality.
The problem with Hoodbhoy's analysis is that he binds it together with a particular view of history with his solutions to the science question. He draws a straight line from al-Ghazali's sharp criticism of reason (whom he incorrectly calls an "Arab cleric", which shows that he is probably using nth hand information) to the present problems in the Muslim world. There are other, more accurate, ways to interpret Imam al-Ghazali's importance in the Islamic traditions and his refutation of the Muslim philosophers. But these would be outside the point of this post. I sympathise with Hoodbhoy's concerns about the way in which science is received and practiced in Muslim countries, though his own personal experience in Pakistan might prejudice his views to some degree. He also tends to have a rather 19th-century image of science and the world, where science will one day conquer All Human Ills Forver and create a world where We Will Live Happily Ever After. Yet, what he fails to accept is the undeniable social aspect of science. To acknowledge the role of science in society does not make one a raving postmodernist who believes 'all science is merely rhetoric that is sustaining a particular paradigm'. Perhaps some scientists find the view that science neccessarily has a 'social' aspect unpalatable, but this is just the result of a bruised ego which finds that their self-description of someone on the noble quest for 'objective knowledge' is not the whole truth. Consider the following:
a. Science requires institutions and funding. These institutions are not built by 'science' itself. They must be built by "society", and so the aims and agenda of "society" will play a part in what science is conducted in these institutions. Societies must also be willing to pay considerable sums of money to pursue science. Public concerns sometimes enter the debate as to what is researched and why (cf. debates in the UK and elsewhere in the West surrounding stem-cell research and genetically-modified crops). This is not to suggest the methodologies and results are predetermined or fixed in anyway. These are 'objective' in that they can be verified and repeated (i.e. good science). But it does show what gets researched and the course science will take is not neccessarily in the hands of the scientist. More often, science is funded by military and business concerns. This involvement of the military and industry might even be considered a "Westernisation" of science. So "Islamisation" could, if so defined, be shown to have a different emphasis on the path it will take. Again, I should emphasis this does not mean the results -- the 'objective' knowledge -- of such a science should be dictated by nothing other than the internal logic of science; otherwise this ceases to be anything we can call science. 
b. To attract people to study science, it needs to win 'mindshare'. It needs to answer the question: why would someone want to become a scientist? So, science has to be shown to have practical benefits, and not merely an intellectual pursuit for the elites and a few eccentrics. This sort of 'propogation' is conducted by those who would have vested interests in what kind of science is pursued. This is a problem even modern societies are struggling with: the dwindling number of students who take up chemistry or mathematics is a cause for concern in the UK, with some university departments even closing their chemistry departments or merging their mathematics departments. This is part of the debate surrounding the 'ownership' of science. If "Islamising" science means making Muslims at large become involved in science because they are shown the benefits of such an engagement, then perhaps we shouldn't be too concerned with labels at this stage.
By ignoring these points Hoodbhoy is guilty of reducing science to a collection of mere data, when obviously it is a lot more than that. Of course, Hoodbhoy has no interest in trying to see where science stands in relation to Islamic knowledges; he has adopted, wholly, the secularist position of religion as private belief.
But Hoodbhoy's scathing criticisms of Islamic science are pertinent and worthy of consideration by its advocates. Afterall, unlike Nasr and Sardar, he teaches and lives in a Muslim country and sees the problems first hand. The latter two take the obvious benefits of modern science and technology where they live, so it would seem a tad hypocritical for them to deny Muslims, many of whom live in abject poverty, the same benefits (although a reversal might be that Nasr and Sardar also the downsides). There are philosophical concerns too. Though Nasr and Iqbal make an appeal to earlier Muslims like al-Biruni, one has to ask whether or not the likes of al-Biruni, Ibn Sina and al-Khwarimzi saw their science as universal or somehow limited to their tradition. If it universal, then anyone ought to be able to appreciate the science. The significance of the scientific "facts" comes from outside the actual discipline, though there may well be interconnections with the science (for example, a religion that totally denies the material aspect of human life is not going to be neccessarily conducive to science). I suspect that at their time all "scientific" knowledge created/discovered was deemed as being universal and singular (afterall, for a Muslim all knowledge is ultimately from God and the Truth must be one). So how can Nasr distinguish between "true" Islamic science, and the false or destructive science of others?
There is also the question of who defines science. Afterall, other disciplines would resist the same demand to have their work brought under the control of other experts. Since Muslims are fastitidous (and not without good reason) about traditional Islamic knowledges being studied and defined by specialists in that tradition (and not outside it) they ought to understand this concern. Should science come under the 'guidance' of religious scholars? I am yet to meet a scientist, Muslim or otherwise, who would accept such a view. Science must, if it is to be a useful and productive endeavour, obey its own logic. I suspect religious scholars might express scepticism at the strength given to scientific claims, although this doesn't stop some from using science to define or explain some facet of the shari'ah or using scientific arguments against a particular scientific claim (most notabley evolution). One scholar criticises the over-confidence in science and its abilities to answer questions in popular culture today and its ability to answer questions.  But of all the scientists I know none of them claim that science makes ultimate "truths". Rather that it provides explanations based on available evidence; which makes them liable to revision. So we arrive back at the point where we ask how does Islam meld with modern science and how we teach science and religion in Muslim countries. Or do we need to make a new "Islamic science" which reflects our religious traditions a path which has creates a whole set of other issues to solve. For my own part, I do certainly believe science has a social/cultural aspect, but that you can't reduce science to some cultural viewpoint. As such the 'why do science?' and 'what to pursue in science?' questions have a strong social component. Societies who prize power and wealth might develop science (and technologies, since science has an ever increasing connection with technology) which aim to give them such power through the creation of arms or exploitation of natural resources. Societies who view the world around themselves as a trust from some higher source will develop sciences and technologies whose aim is to preserve their surroundings and to mitigate against wastage. But the methods used to get the answers must be universally appreciated by any scientist with appropriate training.
In addition, and perhaps more to the point than abstract argumentation, the whole "Islamic science" movement, as outlined broadly above, has struggled to produce anything practical, notwithstanding the other factors which may impede their development (that you do not create -- or rejuvinate according to Iqbal -- a scientific tradition overnight or in a couple of decades is also a point worth noting). For the forseeable future, even an anti-modernist like Nasr acknowledges that modern science and technology will continue to penetrate Muslim societies. Some of this maybe beneficial to solve various problems. Can Muslim societies afford to fall further behind by abandoning science in their wait for an Islamic science to materialise?
One thing not discussed is that, perhaps, there is more than one way to pursue science for Muslims, that no individual can have monopoly on "the truth" since we are always learning, always integrating, and always transforming knowledge, and God knows best.
 This sort of tasfir of the Qur'an actually had a rather short-lived existence in the 19th- and early 20th-centuries. See Muzaffar Iqbal, Islam and Science (2002).
 Maurice Baucille's The Bible, the Qur'an and Science has been translated into countless languages in Muslim countries and forms the basis for the apparent 'scientific miracles' that are to be found in the Qur'an. I also discussed this in "Against Muslim apologetics".
 Sardar's ideas are presented in Explorations in Islamic Science (1989). He has also written numerous articles and newspaper columns, some of which have been collected in Islam, Postmodernism and Other Futures: A Ziauddin Sardar Reader (2003).
 The place to start with al-Faruqi's suggestion is Islamization of Knowledge: General Principles and Workplan (1982). The IIIT publish the American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences.
 Anees is a Pakistani-American biologist by training who currently resides in Paris. He used to contribute to Sardar's magazine Inquiry: A Magazine of Events and Ideas and has numerous journals and articles to his name. He has been listed in several biographical references, has been selected as one of 40 international scholars recognised by UNESCO and was elected as a member of the Royal Academy for Islamic Civilization Research, Jordan. His major contribution to the Islam and science debate has been Islam and Biological Futures: Ethics, Gender, and Technology (1989). He was an advisor to the Malaysian government, until the scandal surrounding Anwar Ibrahim erupted.
 Nasr is a perennialist, also often referred to as 'traditionalist philosophy'. Within contemporary Muslim debates (and especially for English-speaking Muslims), traditionalism refers to the classical Sunni traditions of Islam, distinguishing itself from modern interpretations. The two should not be confused, though they may well overlap on some philosophical issues. In any case Nasr comes from the Shi'a traditions. The most pertinent of Nasr's works to this discussion are: Knowledge and the Sacred (1981) and The Need for a Sacred Science (1993) which spell out his ideas for a scientia sacra; The Encounter of Man and Nature: The Spiritual Crisis of Modern Man (1968) and Religion and the Order of Nature (1996) represent his critiques of modern science. Nasr emphasises the need for a contemporary historiography of Islamic science, bemoaning the lack of attention Muslims have paid to history and philosophy of science -- another way in which 'positive' science has penetrated Muslim thinking.
 Iqbal is lives and works in Canada, where he runs the Centre for Islam and Science. He spent the 1990s in Pakistan where he has been a member of various boards and organisation which concern themselves with Islam and science. He resigned from his position as a science advisor to OIC, which he regards as an organisation pursuing agendas other than those related to helping Muslims. He has published a number of works on the history and philosophy of science, and the role of science in the Islamic tradition, including Islam and Science (2002). He is also the founder and editor of Islam & Science, a journal of science from an Islamic perspective.
 Iqbal refutes this charge by citing a debate between al-Biruni and Ibn Sina. See Islam and Science (2002), especially the last chapter.
 See Leif Stenberg's The Islamization of Science: Four Muslim Positions Developing an Islamic Modernity (1996). Here is an example of Sardar criticising Nasr and Iqbal.
 Hoodbhoy's book Islam and Science: Religious Orthodoxy and the Battle for Rationality (1991), presents most of his ideas and is a scathing attack on the Islamisation drive under Zia-ul-Haq which included the Islamisation of science. But the book is replete with gross errors and unfounded accusations, especially in his description of Muslim history. If you can't get hold of his boook, here is a review, and a sort of rebuttal, of Hoodbhoy's charges. Hoodbhoy describes how graduates and post-doctoral researchers from Pakistani universities conduct research activities on topics like producing formulae for calculating the amount of sawab ('reward for spiritual acts' in Islamic parlance) for praying in a congregation, or how to trap jinn to solve the world's energy crisis. Even worse, he says, are religious vigilantes who patrol many universities and attack those students and researchers who do not conform to their views. Though it must be said that Hoodbhoy also made something of a defence of science in Islamic history, where he urged Muslims to rekindle scientific learning. I would see Hoodbhoy as an example of just the thing I am talking about: a Muslim by birth who is the product of a secular university and who feels he, and Muslims in general, have to choose between religion and science. Thus he casts his defence of science in Pakistan on just those terms. Religion for him becomes relegated to a mere 'personal' belief.
 There might well be good criticisms of the methods and assumptions used in modern science. For example why and how we measure something, and where we look, is a philosophical question. But note this is not my point here.
 For example Shaykh Nuh Keller in a letter concerning evolution, writes, "Mere imagination? On the contrary, everything besides this knowledge [of God through the Sufi path] is imagination, for the object of this knowledge is Allah, true reality, which cannot be transient but is unchanging, while other facts are precisely imaginary. The child you used to be, for example, exists now only in your imagination; the person who ate your breakfast this morning no longer exists except in your imagination; your yesterday, your tomorrow, your today (except, perhaps, for the moment you are presently in, which has now fled): all is imaginary, and only hypostatized as phenomenal reality, as unity, as facticity, as real--through imagination [...] This is not to denigrate the power of imagination; indeed, if not for imagination, we could not believe in the truths of the afterlife, paradise, hell, and everything that our eternal salvation depends upon. Rather, I mention this in the context of the question of evolution as a cautionary note against a sort of "fallacy of misplaced concrescence," an unwarranted epistemological overconfidence, that exists in many people who work in what they term "the hard sciences"."