King of my Castle, Captain of my Ship, Master of my Domain, Star of the Movie of my Life, Free Agent, Individual, Me, I, Self, Soul.
Certainly most of us hold that at least one of these metaphors stands for something real, if not more.
We are self aware, we have a point of view, we make choices, etc.
But is it choice if the options are: ‘your money or your life?’ Maybe. What about, ‘Bang! You’re dead!’ Where is your choice if you are murdered - with no further say whatsoever? A bullet in the head seems a form of reality that would be mighty difficult for anyone to deny as a destroyer of choices.
In my experience, when free will comes up as a topic for discussion, people have very rigid ideas about the definition of the term, and the discussion tends to turn on these definitions as much or more than on the actual concepts being discussed. This can be difficult to reconcile because, while many are sure of the correct definition of free will (theirs), the variations are abundant and, often, subtly nuanced.
Some see free as meaning - entirely without constraint. Few would argue, however, that free in real life actually does mean without constraint, responsibility, convention, or rule of law. Most, if they thought about it, would concede that free is defined within a context. You are not free to murder me without risk of consequences, since murdering me takes away all my remaining freedom and, because of this, we have, collectively, created consequences designed to dissuade murder as an expression of freedom. Also, you are even less free to survive a two hundred foot fall onto concrete, naked and without a parachute.
Others see will as meaning the ability to change reality with the mind alone. But, surely, that is not the only applicable definition either. Nor is it, likely, to be accepted as the most common one.
Yet others apply a more classic definition of free will; with its roots in theism. This comes in an even stickier form. Even before Christianity, gods were often seen as immortal, but fallible, with ‘godlike’ powers that were limited nonetheless. They had their own free will to worry about. Other omnipotent, omniscient gods were invented; like Krishna who wanted to allow love to exist, or Yahweh, who, apparently, wanted to be willfully obeyed. But love cannot be compelled or, well, it’s not love then, is it? And the obedience of machines, unable to disobey, isn’t really obedience; it’s utility. Love and obedience must be chosen in order to have any virtue or real meaning at all. In fact, without choice, there can be no virtue or meaning.
So, a paradox arises – how is it possible for an omnipotent, omniscient being to allow free will (choices unencumbered by the supreme will of said deity) and remain omnipotent and omniscient? You can see the dichotomy. Believers will solve it by saying ‘god can do anything,’ or ‘it’s a mystery,’ or ‘only god knows. ’ To a critical thinker, these are completely unsatisfactory answers.
But why would atheists spend time arguing this particular definition within the context of atheism? Surely, it points to a flaw in many forms of theism. But it has no place in an atheist discussion about an atheistic world view. Atheists aren’t confronted with this paradox. Or are we?
If our choices are determined by the universal matrix of cause and effect, then authorship or agency remains in question. What I mean is this: the hyper-complex matrix of cause and effect, what I call the causal gestalt, is mind boggling to imagine. From the absolute top level down to the most granular detail; the magnitude and intricacies of every causal variable, and the relationships between these variables, is impossible to fully comprehend. Therefore, since so much of this causal gestalt interpenetrates the mind and metabolism of any individual - consciously, unconsciously, instinctually, intuitively, through experience, observation, circumspection, speculation, introspection, cognition, interpretation, and all the flawed distortions, and filled-in blanks, etc. - what happens inside a person in regard to how they arrive at the billions of micro-choices they make, remains impenetrably complex.
It is true that there are those who, even now, are attempting to build software models of the brain that exactly replicate the workings of that formidable organ. And these attempts are not as farfetched as they may sound. Nevertheless, is our part of the causal gestalt restricted to our nervous system, senses, and ability to interact with it? Probably. Yet even if these attempts to perfectly model the brain succeed, this is no guarantee that all the mysteries of the human mind will suddenly be revealed. What would this software mind be like – without experiences, relationships, an education, community, etc? And, if an adult mind is mimicked, what would its developmental stages look like, and how would they operate? And if a child’s mind were mimicked, how would it change and grow? And, if it really was an accurate model of a human mind, how would it tell us more about the human mind than, well, the human mind? Would we suddenly possess the Rosetta stone printed on hundreds of thousands of pages in computer code? Would it be ethical to manipulate such a mind in order to obtain experimental data? Would such a mind - necessarily self-aware – deserve the same level of respect, and human rights we extend to each other? Could we reboot it now and then to see what happens? Would that be ethical or fair?
Nevertheless, even though we can’t tally, catalog, process, and accurately analyze the significance of the mechanics of the causal gestalt at every given micro moment, we can postulate with a great deal of confidence that, nevertheless, everything is happening as a result of factors that happened as a result of factors that happened before that, etc. backward to the Big Bang. Conversely, everything that happens becomes a factor that participates in all results going forward. All causes were effects, and all effects become causes. This is the deterministic nature of the causal gestalt.
So, on an absolute level, unless some things happen without cause (let’s call this type of [non]event nonsense), everything happens for reasons. Things happen as a direct result of what happened before and will happen as a direct result of what is happening now, and so on. There will be no deviation from the determined flow of events into each other. There is no actual freedom.
And, if there is no actual freedom, then, surely, there is no actual responsibility.
Still, one could propose that, since the causal gestalt is so complex, and, further, since there is no way to be absolutely certain that there is no nonsense, then we may pragmatically operate as if there is freedom and, therefore, as if there is responsibility. While this may be an existential aesthetic, it appears to be a warranted approach. After all, it could be said that even acting as if there is actual freedom (and, therefore, actual responsibility) is determined by the gestalt of all causes leading up to that conclusion or way of being.
Certainly, there is plenty of room for doubt that actual nonsense exists. However, what caused the singularity to come into existence before it exploded in the Big Bang? Also, wouldn’t actual randomness represent uncaused events – or nonsense? And, while thoughts are both effects and causes, isn’t it likely that a person’s last thought is a causeless effect? And what do all the false beliefs that, nonetheless, affect people’s behavior and, by extension, the rest of reality represent? Is there always a traceable pathology as to how we arrive at the wrong conclusion?
In any event, to the extent we understand some portion of the causal gestalt, we can limit the scope of the definition of freedom and responsibility, and we do. The concept of self-defense, for example, exempts a person from being deemed a murderer if they were countering an attack on their own life (or the lives of others) in an event not initiated by them.
So, if all events are fixed by events that happened before (and how they relate to each other), and, if all future events are already shaped by past and current events (it appears fairly difficult to mount a credible argument against that idea), then (at least on an absolute level) choice, creativity, authorship, freedom, virtue, responsibility, identity, love, and, even, distinguishing one thing from another, are moot. There are no kings, masters, captains, stars, free agents. There are no selves.
A Buddhist (often a type of atheist) might say, at this point: “Yes! All is one. The separateness is all an illusion. All boundaries are in constant flux. Every membrane is permeable and permeated. We are born, we live, and we die. Who we are today is not who we were yesterday, nor who we will become tomorrow. What once was something else became us, and what we are will, one day, become something else. Once we accept this and cease to cling to the illusion of separateness, the joke of impermanence will be fully revealed, and we will be one with everything and achieve Nirvana. The demons tearing us apart will transform into the angels freeing us forever.”
What is left for the individualist to say to that but: “So what? Why deny my perception of point of view? Based on what? The likelihood of a truth I can’t map anywhere near well enough to tell the difference between relative choice and absolute compulsion? What are the implications of a scenario where I know everything is predictable provided I know everything? So what?”
I live in this existence of sensual input, cognitive interpretation, and incomplete perception. What I was, am, and will become is informed, to some extent, by my choices. Knowledge can give me an edge over ignorance. The illusion of choice is, even if assumed to be an illusion, nevertheless impenetrable. No one has seen the ending of the book of my life. So, even if the causal gestalt assures that it can only be told one way; even if every letter has already found its fixed place on the pages, I can still be surprised by the outcomes. I can still be moved by the expression of it all. I can still be curious about the significance. I can still try to guess if it was Professor Plum in the conservatory with a lead pipe … or not.
And, as unlikely as it may be, I can still explore the strange possibility that there just might be some actual nonsense mixed into the causal gestalt.
Free Will and Testament by Georges David Lafontant is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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