The issue about free will is not so
much whether we have any, but whether we exercise the free will we do have.
Philosopher Immanuel Kant argues that we are essentially free and fail to live
up to the promise of such freedom if we allow biology and external forces to
rule us. Philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre, despite all the flaws of his irreligious
and political beliefs, had it right in his existentialist arguments that humans
do not have a fixed nature handed out from biology. Humans make their own
nature out of the freedom to do so in the environment in which they exist.
Humans are regarded, in existential philosophy, as independently acting and
responsible conscious beings. Each
individual brain is uniquely constructed from life experience, and much of that
is self-constructed by willful choices. Science does not hold that the
conscious mind is independent of genetics or environmental programming. But each
mind is an independent being, acting in the world as a distinct entity, not as
some Borg-like unit in a collective.
In
terms of religion, Christianity is uniquely individualistic and demands
personal responsibility and accountability. It is no accident that many of
those who think free will is illusory are also atheists. Kierkegaard railed
against growing collectivism, including that of organized religion. His
emphasis was on the responsibility of individuals to be true to Christian
ideals.
The conscious mind that believes in its power to choose also must believe that it can exert some control over the automatic purposes of its unconscious mind. No doubt, conscious mind has its own automatic purposes, which likewise are subject to veto or modification via free will. Such minds believe they can train and discipline their minds, bending them to freely willed purposes. Such minds say to themselves, “I can quit smoking.” “I can make myself learn how to be an engineer.” I will make this marriage work.” “I will not lie, cheat, or steal, nor tolerate those who do.” And so on.
Now it is true that all of us commonly surrender our decision-making autonomy to our baser instincts and compulsions. Much of our behavior is unthinking, knee-jerk responsiveness. Our capacity for free will is limited to our willingness to claim and exert it.
The conscious mind that believes in its power to choose also must believe that it can exert some control over the automatic purposes of its unconscious mind. No doubt, conscious mind has its own automatic purposes, which likewise are subject to veto or modification via free will. Such minds believe they can train and discipline their minds, bending them to freely willed purposes. Such minds say to themselves, “I can quit smoking.” “I can make myself learn how to be an engineer.” I will make this marriage work.” “I will not lie, cheat, or steal, nor tolerate those who do.” And so on.
Now it is true that all of us commonly surrender our decision-making autonomy to our baser instincts and compulsions. Much of our behavior is unthinking, knee-jerk responsiveness. Our capacity for free will is limited to our willingness to claim and exert it.
People who believe that humans have no free will are hard-pressed to explain why no one is responsible for their choices and actions. What is it that compels foolish or deviant behavior? Are we compelled to believe in God or to be an atheist? What compels us to accept one moral code over any other? Are we compelled to become a certain kind of person, with no option to “improve” in any self-determined way? Are we compelled in our choices of learning experiences? If so, what or who does the compelling? Are we inevitable victims of genetics and experience or even a robotic unconscious mind?
It seems to me that current debates
about determinism and free will tend to obscure the important matters of our
humanness. The door to understanding what is really going on is slammed shut
by assertions that value choices and the decisions that flow from them
cannot be free because they are caused by neural circuit impulse patterns. Free
will debates distract us from a proper framing of the issues about human
choices and personal responsibility.
While it is true that brain
circuitry is programmed by genetics and experience, conscious mind makes
choices about who to interact with and what experiences to value, promote, and
allow. Conscious mind can insist that some lessons of experience need to be remembered
and valued while others are not. In short, the mind gets to help shape what it
becomes.
The free-will issue is more than an
arcane scholarly argument. Positions become politicized. In a robotocist world,
people are more likely to be victims and less able to change maladaptive
attitudes and behaviors. Thus, society and government must help people do what
they cannot do for themselves. Robotocists don’t seem to ask this question: is
our decision to help fellow robotocists likewise a robotocist choice?
If we can’t make conscious choices,
then there is not much we can do to improve ourselves or our plight in life. Or
even if there are things that can be done to change us and our situations, the
approach will surely have to be different if we can’t initiate the change by force
of our free will. Without free will, the government or schools or some other
outside force must program our unconscious. That, of course, is a driving force
behind moves to increase the size and power of government.
If there is no "I" in
charge, then there is no reason to demand or expect personal responsibility.
All manner of bad brains and bad behavior can be excused. If we believe there
is no free will, how can we justify our criminal justice system? If people
cannot make choices freely, and if all their decisions emanate from unconscious
processes, how can we hold them responsible for unacceptable morals or
behavior? All crime should be tolerated or at least excused, because the
criminal could not help it. The human robot committed the crime. This would
mean that we should reform the criminal justice system so that no criminal
would be jailed or punished. If criminals can’t stop themselves from bad acts,
it is inhumane to punish criminals or even terrorists. Indeed, the only
justification for locking anybody up for misdeeds would be to protect society
from further crime or terrorism. Capital punishment has to be banned, as indeed
it is in many parts of the world. In the minds of some, criminals are victims.
To believe in the absence of free
will creates an intolerable social nihilism. Many defense lawyers increasingly
use neuroscience inappropriately to convince jurors that the defendant was not
responsible for the evil deeds. They even have a name for this kind of defense:
“diminished capacity.” Indeed, to them the whole notion of evil might seem
inappropriate. Lawyers are adept at stressing mitigating circumstances where
criminal behavior was caused, they say, by a terrible upbringing, poverty,
social discrimination, or brain injury. To be sure, most murderers have been found
to have a standard profile that includes childhood abuse and some kind of
neurological or psychiatric disorder. But many non-murderers have a similar
profile. How can lack of free will explain such difference? The reality is that
most people have brains that can learn social norms and choose socially
appropriate behavior. Ignoring those norms is a choice.
A most disturbing book, written by
Laurence Tancredi,[1]
uncritically accepts the notion that free-will is an illusion. He argues
that human morals are “hard-wired,” with the “wiring” created by genetics and
molded by uncontrollable forces in life experiences. Tancredi, is a lawyer and
practicing psychiatrist. Not surprisingly, the poster boy for his arguments was
a psychopathic serial killer, Ricky Green, who was abused as a child and had
relatives with serious mental problems. Thus, Tancredi stresses that bad genes
and bad treatment as a child made Green become a “biologically driven”
murderer. Yet, in recounting the case history, it became clear that Green was
not insane. He was fully aware of his childhood past, and was fully aware of,
even remorseful over, his murders. He was also aware that his out-of-control
episodes were triggered by the combination of sex and alcohol. So, it was
clear, even to Green, that his crimes could have been prevented by avoiding
alcohol. He apparently was not an alcoholic who had no control over drinking. Even if we give the benefit of doubt
to the conclusion that Green could not control himself, it is a stretch to
argue that the uncontrollability of psychopaths applies to everybody else. One
would have to argue that normal people are only normal because they got good
genes and had a childhood in which their mental health was not damaged. Virtue
would be an illusion.
Interestingly, Tancredi acknowledges
the brain is changeable if skilled therapists provide structured rehabilitation
for dysfunctional thinking. But the general tenor of his argument is that the
individual is powerless to produce such changes. It has to come from others.
Because dysfunctional people are victims who seemingly can’t help themselves,
it is the duty of psychiatrists and government to mold the brains of people so
they overcome bad genes and whatever bad experiences life has thrust upon them.
People, robots that they supposedly are, do not have the power to nurture their
brain. Thus, government must create a cultural and educational environment in
which humans are molded to conform to some pre-defined state of normality. Does this remind you of Aldous Huxley’s Brave
New World?
Also not considered by Tancredi and
his crowd, is that dysfunctional people might have become that way through
their own freely determined bad choices along their life’s journey. Those bad
choices may have even sculpted maladaptive changes in their brain function.
Arguing that the brain is modifiable by experience is a two-edged sword. While
one edge slashes the idea that a person can’t change his brain, the other edge
slashes the idea that people can’t be changed by the influence of others or by
their own conscious decisions.
A major function of consciousness,
as I have argued, is to program the brain, which inevitably causes lasting
changes in its structure and functions. If consciousness provides capability
for freely chosen intentions, choices, and decisions, then people are
responsible for how those powers are deployed.
Tancredi acknowledges that many
people have bad genes and very traumatic childhoods, yet overcome it. Sexually
abused children do not necessarily become sexual predators as adults and may,
in fact, become crusaders to protect children from abuse. But they don’t get
any credit for a freely chosen decision to live a wholesome and helpful life. Their
virtue is attributed to necessity, not to anything they voluntarily chose to
do. How then do we account for the effect of schools and religious teachings?
Do we conclude that it is the inner robot that decides which ideas and beliefs
to accept and which to reject? If so, why do some brains accept the teachings
and others reject them?
It is true that brain scans, for
example, can sometimes predict that certain people will commit crimes or other
antisocial behaviors. But nobody seems to consider the alternative to a “bad
brain” cause of misbehavior: namely, that what people freely choose to do
changes the brain in ways that make more likely that similar behavior will be
repeated. People who voluntarily indulge mind-altering experiences, such as
unsavory friends, drugs, or destructive ideologies and lifestyles, have nobody
else to blame for those choices.
The evidence for brain plasticity,
for good or bad, is overwhelming. Yet, this evidence tends to get ignored when
excuses are sought for inappropriate behavior. It is true, of course, that children
usually have little control over their circumstance and rising above it is
surely hard, but they still have a human capacity to overcome as adults. Many
millions have done just that. To deny that people have such capacity is
dehumanizing.
Bad brains can surely cause bad
behavior. But it is equally true that bad behavior can cause bad brains. What
you choose to experience, think, and do sculpts brain function and anatomy to
shape what you will become.
We are what we repeatedly do.
Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit
—Aristotle
The corollary is, in my view:
I will become what I repeatedly do.
[1]
Tancredi, L. 2005. Harwired Behavior.
What Neuroscience Reveals about Morality. Cambridge U. Press, N.Y., N.Y.