Rich brought this article by RALPH ESTLING home from the SFU library many years ago.  I tried to find it, but it won’t come up on the internet, so I typed it out.  (That was good, old-fashioned work, but may contain a few typos)  The bold is my emphasis.
From SKEPTICAL INQUIRER Vol. 18 No. 4  Summer 1994 (Ralph Estling died in 2007)

     Let us now lambaste infamous men, those who call themselves scientists and perhaps honestly believe themselves to be scientists and indeed have the post-nominals to show it, but who are not scientists.

     Science is, when all’s said and done, only the name we give to what it is scientists do and think; and scientists, same as the rest of us, are a mixed bag, especially when it comes to doing and thinking.  They’re supposed to love truth for its own sake and to seek it at all costs. No doubt all of them think they do, but whether they really do and to what extent, is one of those things that doesn’t mean much when applied with broad strokes of a tar brush.  It only has true meaning when applied to this or that individual, and I’m carefully avoiding individuals and just grousing generally.
     Dogma, certainty without evidence, is the great menace, the great nemesis, of science, of art, of religion, of politics, of economics, of philosophy, of how to write articles for magazine, of just about everything that we do and think.  Dogma is a great ossifier of mind and of imagination, of all creativity.  It is an integral part of human nature, being our laziness’s answer to the strain that goes with thinking.  The only qualification in science’s favor –  not that it doesn’t have dogmas, because it certainly does, loads of them – is that its dogmas tend to collapse in a heap a bit more readily than those you find in art, religion, politics, and the rest.  If you have a scientific dogma and it’s discovered that according to it 1 + 1 ≠ 2, this often means you’re in trouble. (Not always, as quantum theory shows us.)  Whereas in politics you can hold on to your dogma on that basis for decades, in religion for centuries.   In psychoanalysis, 1 + 1 ≠  is a genuine advantage.
     All constructs of human beings have this problem, i.e., they’re made by humans, with all that this entails.  Science is just another such construct, humanity’s latest and, some of us think, best.  But best might just mean “not as bad as all the rest”;  it may not necessarily be all that great intrinsically.  I think we had better adopt this relative view on the greatness of science if we’re to avoid winding up as total pessimists and misanthropes and, of course, anti-science.  If we don’t expect or demand too much from our fellow mortals, including our fellow scientists, we’re less likely to become as dissappointed and infuriated as we might otherwise.  Here endeth the first lesson.
     The thing is, we do demand more, a lot more, from scientists.  They are, after all, the appointed, sometimes the self-appointed, guardians at the gates of reason.  Many are reasonable – wonderfully, marvelously so, as was Richard Feynman.  But there are others.
     There are scientists, often but not invariably cosmologists or quantum theorists, who can take ideas, stand them on their heads, and twirl them around like tops, till they hum and thrum, a blur of fury, a million mad mosquitoes locked in a jam jar, thirsting for blood, remembering the stagnant pools of home.  We follow the toy train of their thought along its trembly tracks, through the cardboard tunnels, over the shuddering tin bridges, past the plastic stations, to where it emerges, at the point all one, smoke, steam, vapor pouring out – but nothing else.  For these are the scientific myth-makers.
     Myth-making, metaphysics, mystery, magic, speculation without a trace-element of proof – this is the hallmark of the self-indulgent, undisciplined mind, in science or anything else.  If you steel your brain in the methods of logical deduction, empirical observation, and rational analysis, this clearly limits the brain’s sphere of operation, erects boundaries, condition, restriction, no-go areas. But, as Robert Frost tells us, “Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.”  The trouble is, without these walls of reason we are back with the shamans in their reindeer skins and antlers, dancing ’round the fire, chanting the ritual spells, the sacred, holy words that will (or so we hope) frighten away the evil spirits of the night and the cold.  The fire gives warmth and, though its shadows cast on the walls of the cave are menacing and troubling, it makes the cave bears and sabertooths keep their distance, and the tales the shaman tells are lively, and the dancing invigorating.  But we must forgo all this.  For we have been here before and we have left this place long ago and moved on, and we should have no desire to go back.
     Many, even with Ph.D.s  after their names, have not left this strange, dark land and do not want to.  Some are scientists.  Many of these are theorists in physics;  there are fewer of them in the life sciences.  The reason for this is not hard to come by.  When scientists are on the borderlands, the wild fringe areas, of knowledge, speculation creeps in on little cat feet and sits there, in the doorway, licking its lips.
     The problem emerges in science when scientists leave the realm of science and enter that of philosophy and metaphysics, too often grandiose names for mere personal opinion, untrammeled by empirical evidence or logical analysis, and wearing the mask of deep wisdom.
     And so they conjure us an entire Cosmos, or myriads of cosmoses, suddenly, inexplicably, causelessly leaping into being out of – out of Nothing Whatsoever, for no reason at all, and thereafter expanding faster than light into more Nothing Whatever.  And so cosmologists have given us Creation ex nihilo, Everything out of Nothing, our own, our very own scientifically authenticated Genesis-come-lately.  And at the instant of this Creation, they inform us almost parenthetically, the universe possessed the interesting attributes of Infinite Temperature, Infinite Density, and Infintesimal Volume, a rather gripping state of affairs, as well as something of a sudden and dramatic change from Nothing Whatsoever.  They then intone equations and other ritual mathematical formulae and look upon it and pronounce it good.
     I do not think that what these cosmologists, these quantum theorists, these universe-makers, are doing is science.  I can’t help feeling that universes are notoriously disinclined to spring into being, ready-made, out of nothing.  Even if Edward Tryon (ah, a name at last!) has written that “our Universe is simply one of those things which happen from time to time.”
     We seem instinctively to feel that the natural condition is nonexistence, nothingness.  It is a deep, pervasive belief in all human cultures and mythologies, as is the need for a Beginning in and of Time.  But like many human needs, like gods who care for us so deeply and passionately they create universes for us and then carefully nurture and tend them for our benefit, there is no overriding, inescapable requirement for them, and no compelling certainty.  Perhaps, although we have the word of many famous scientists for it, our universe is not simply one of those things that happen from time to time.
     But perhaps we are.
(For Richard Peachey’s lecture on the impossibility of even a single cell forming – without a Divine hand, see …………
– Insurmountable mathematical requirements.  Any life, all life points to an astounding wisdom and power.)