The State of Tennessee v. John Thomas Scopes — alternatively known as “the Scopes Trial” or “the Scopes Monkey Trial” — holds an ambiguous place in American life, society, and culture. On the one hand, it is likely that most people have some knowledge of it, thereby signaling some enduring significance. On the other hand, the Scopes trial hasn’t garnered a rush of podcast episodes, journalistic think pieces, and TV limited series/movie projects.
In addition, volumes of misinformation surround Scopes, further obfuscating its impact on American culture and, more significantly, American Christianity. For while the thumbnail sketch of Scopes is one of faith versus science, the real story is one of prosperity versus poverty. Additionally, normative aspects of contemporary American life find their origin in this trial. But for those who want an important throughline to many of the church’s contemporary challenges, Scopes offers a treasure trove of resources. This article sets out to establish some of the lesser-known facts about this case and explore present-day themes in American Christianity that find either their origin or canonization in Scopes.
The History of Scopes
On March 21, 1925, Tennessee governor Austin Peay signed into law the Butler Act — named after John Washington Butler, the two-term state representative who introduced this act:
An act prohibiting the teaching of the Evolution Theory in all the Universities, Normals and all other public schools of Tennessee, which are supported in whole or in part by the public school funds of the State, and to provide penalties for the violations thereof.
SECTION 1. Be it enacted by the General Assembly of the State of Tennessee, That it shall be unlawful for any teacher in any of the Universities, normals and all other public schools of the State which are supported in whole or in part by the public school funds of the state, to teach any theory that denies the story of the Divine Creation of man as taught in the Bible, and to teach instead that man has descended from a lower order of animals.
Not much was made of the law in Tennessee at the time of its passing; the law was seen as largely symbolic. Symbolic laws are passed all of the time, typically to little fanfare beyond the intended audience for such laws. However, two things conspired to bring this law to the fore. First, in 1920, a subcommittee within the American Union Against Militarism — a committee known as the Civil Liberties Bureau — spun off from its parent organization and became the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU). Second, the town of Dayton, Tennessee, was facing serious economic hardships and was desperate for a cash infusion.
As the story goes, George Rappleyea — a New York bankruptcy attorney — saw an advertisement that the ACLU had taken out, seeking someone who would serve as a test case for challenging the Butler Act. Rappleyea, who had taken a job in Dayton a few years earlier, thought that a large trial there would draw media interests and visitors. He also knew of a 24-year young, new-to-town teacher, whom he had met at church: John Thomas Scopes. Both Rappleyea and Scopes were interested in Darwin’s theories, which they had discussed with their pastor, who was also supportive of Darwin’s insights. Scopes had been hired as the high school football coach and occasionally taught as a substitute teacher.
Rappleyea gathered the town’s primary stakeholders — politicians, clergy, educators, and businessmen — to share his plan. F.E. Robinson owned the struggling drugstore in downtown Dayton and was also the chairman of the local school board. Rappleyea and Robinson agreed to the plan, and then invited Scopes to participate as this law’s first criminal defendant. Scopes consented, even going so far as to share the plan with some of his students and encouraging them to testify against him. A grand jury was convened in May — just weeks after the law’s passage — to indict Scopes for having illegally taught Darwin’s theory of evolution on April 24, 1925. Upon indictment, the trial was set for July 1925. Word was sent to media companies and newspapers across the United States. Journalists flooded into the town. WGN Radio, based in Chicago, used this trial to do its first ever live broadcast.
As an economic plan to bolster Dayton, the trial was a roaring success. Media and spectators from across the US deluged the town, a hysteria that only grew in intensity when it was revealed that the case would be tried by two famous American lawyers: William Jennings Bryan and Clarence Darrow. If the Scopes trial was America’s first battle in a now century-long culture war, Bryan and Darrow would serve as the first field generals (or, alternatively, as the first mascots — depending upon how cheeky you’re feeling).
Dayton was facing serious economic hardships
William Jennings Bryan was born in Illinois on March 19, 1860. In 1880 he moved to Nebraska. A lawyer, politician, and lay-preacher, in 1890 Bryan was elected to the House of Representatives. Four years later, he would fail to secure a seat as Senator from Nebraska, but his political ambitions were not harmed a bit by this loss. In 1896, Bryan delivered a speech at the Democratic National Convention that so roused his peers that they nominated him to run for president. He was only 36 years old and remains the youngest person to ever run for President of the United States of America as the candidate of a major political party. (At this time in American history three things are worth noting. First, “Democrat” was actually the more conservative party. Second, there were no public primaries. Third, women could not vote in national elections until passage of the 19th Amendment, ratified on August 18, 1920. Indeed, we might even consider that women’s expansion of rights in 1920 helped spark the culture war between Progressives and Traditionalists that led to the Scopes Trial.) Bryan lost handily to Republican nominee William McKinley, but Bryan’s status as a young, conservative, thought leader was firmly established. He would go on to run as the Democratic candidate for president again in 1900 and 1908, failing both times (losing again to McKinley and then to William Howard Taft, respectively). Bryan was a lay preacher who leveraged his keen rhetorical skills in service to preaching and writing about scripture, faith, and theology. It was his faith that drew him to Dayton, Tennessee, during that hot July in 1925. Bryan had already identified evolution as an evil worthy of refutation.
Clarence Darrow, by comparison, did not have nearly the same pedigree. Born in Farmdale, Ohio, on April 18, 1857, he studied law at the University of Michigan after a few years of teaching in his early adult life. A “sophisticated country lawyer,” as some were inclined to label him, Darrow made a name for himself as a nationally recognized criminal defense lawyer when he successfully kept Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb from the electric chair after they killed 14-year-old Bobby Franks in their attempt to commit the perfect crime. Darrow’s argument was less in favor of Leopold and Loeb and a more ethics-centered prosecution of the idea of capital punishment, contending that the practice was all about retribution, not rehabilitation. It was fresh off this victory in 1924 that he took on the Scopes case a year later. Though less distinguished in comparison to Bryan, there was no doubt in Darrow’s own acumen as an orator, which only heightened that drama of the Scopes trial. Darrow was known as the town atheist in his small hometown, not a surprising moniker for a man born to a father who had studied for ministry, but then had a crisis of faith right before his ordination.
Bryan and Darrow were perfectly cast for their roles
The trial began on Friday, July 10, 1925, with jury selection — a jury comprised of six Baptists, four Methodists, one Disciple of Christ, and one person who did not attend church. Given this article’s focus on the context — rather than the content — of the trial, it is worth noting that the trial ended on Tuesday, July 21, when Darrow essentially changed Scopes’s plea to guilty. The jury still deliberated — all of nine minutes — and rendered a guilty verdict.
Ultimately, Scopes was ordered to pay a $100 fine (the equivalent to $1,700 today). He appealed his case to the Tennessee Supreme Court, which ruled in his favor, but only because of a legal technicality. Judge Raulston, not the jury, had ordered the fine of $100 and Tennessee law at the time only permitted judges to order fines not to exceed $50. The Court also ruled in favor of the merits of the Butler Act, and it remained the law of the land in the state until May 18, 1967, when a class action lawsuit by another teacher — Gary L. Scott of Jacksonboro — put pressure on the Tennessee legislature to rescind the law.
The Legacy of Scopes
Far from an epic duel between faith and science, Scopes is a story about a small, dying town leveraging a symbolic law to capitalistic gains. Nonetheless, students of Scopes are wise to consider the following partial list of elements of Scopes’s legacy:
Partisan culture wars: One of the things that marks Scopes as unique and interesting is that both lawyers who argued the case were outsiders to Dayton. If Bryan and Darrow were alive and working today, it is easy to see how they would end up as talking heads on one of the many point-counterpoint cable news programs. They are perfectly cast for these roles: Bryan was a lay preacher; Darrow was known as the “town atheist” in his hometown. Bryan was a classic conservative; Darrow was a classic liberal. Memes would be made of each of them. Social media algorithms would feed users a steady diet of both bias-affirming content and blood-boiling alternative takes. Scopes certainly didn’t create partisanship, but the trial did perpetuate it and made our present realities both possible and profitable.
Celebrity trials: If you watched the O.J. Simpson verdict with bated breath, tracked the recent trial of Sean “Diddy” Combs, ever watched Court TV, or indulged one of those afternoon televised “judge” shows, then you can thank Scopes. While this particular pop culture detritus has little direct impact on Christian discipleship, it does keep themes of crime, judgement, and punishment central to cultural life.
Creationism: The Church has always faithfully confessed that all people, all things, indeed the entire cosmos is created by God. But Christians rarely relied heavily on creation for ethics or theology. Indeed, too much of the New Testament is dedicated to being “born again” or “the old life has gone, the new life has come” to focus too much on mere creation. However, after Scopes, Christian theology — most especially in America, but eventually the world around — became overly obsessed with creation. It’s likely there would not be an “Ark Museum” in Kentucky if Scopes didn’t happen. Similarly, we wouldn’t have quasi-scientific discussions around “intelligent design” in public schools if not for Scopes. The 90s-era Christian music festival called “Creation Fest” wouldn’t have had that name if it wasn’t for Scopes, But the greatest sin here isn’t that we’ve overly focused on creation, rather that we’ve neglected the new life we are born into through the waters of baptism. Creationism has forced the church in America to look backward so consistently that it has lost its ability to look forward to the beatific vision of the Kingdom of God or “the new heaven and the new earth” promised to us.
Conclusion
Scopes did not occur in a vacuum, but at the intersection of economic poverty, symbolic legislation, general public unrest, and the advent of mass media. Similarly, science today is never done in a vacuum, but at the intersection of prior assumptions, faith, values, and politics. As such, any full appreciation of Scopes must contend with its context as much as its content.
Hopefully, the true legacy of Scopes is one in which science better recognizes and appreciates its context, as much as its content. Ideally, such considerations will not steal momentum from advancements in disease mitigation, medical technology innovation, or theoretical insights whose utility may remain a generation removed, but neither can science labor under the delusion that its products are easily integrated into cultural life. In a similar way, Christians should not think that the primary challenge to their faith is reason or science.
