THE FREEWILL QUESTION THE FREEWILL QUESTION by WILLIAM H. DAVIS Auburn University MARTINUS NI]HOFF I THE HAGUE I 1971 © I97I by Martinus Nijhoff, The Hague, Netherlands Softcover reprint oft he hardcover Js t Edition J9 7 J All rights reserved, including the right to translate or to reproduce this book or parts thereof in any form ISBN-I3: 978-90-247-5101-3 e-ISBN-I3: 978-94-010-3020-5 DOl: 10.1007/978-94-010-3020-5 CONTENTS Preface V I. The Problem Introduced I II. Our Intuition of Freewill 6 III. The Principle of Sufficient Reason 9 IV. Habit and Freedom I4 V. Freedom and Spontaneity . I7 VI. Is the Physical World Really Mechanical? 20 VII. Determinism and Predictability 28 VIII. The Radical Consequences of Freewill 3I IX. Self-Transcendence 46 X. Self-Deception and Auto-Suggestion 60 XI. The Moral Sense and Its Relation to Freewill 63 XII. The Relation Between the Will, the Reason, and the Good 71 Conclusions 86 Index 89 PREFACE This book is the result of a discontent on my part with (r) the super ficial and offhand way many determinists set forth their arguments, without the slightest hint of the difficulties which have been raised against those arguments, and (2) the fact that the chief and best argu ments of the libertarians are scattered allover the literature and are seldom if ever brought together in one package. Mostly this work may be taken as an effort to gather into one place and to express as cogently as possible the arguments for freewill. So far as I know all of the arguments we treat have been made before. Only toward the end of this work do I attempt to elaborate a point not heretofore emphasized. That point is that freedom of the will is a concept intimately entangled with the human power to reason, so that if one of these powers goes, the other must also go. Moreover, both the will and the reason are intimately tied up with our moral sensitivities, so that no one of these phenomena is intelligible without the others. Hints of these ideas abound, of course, in the literature, and the degree of originality claimed is minimal. The interconnections, however, between these three basic concepts of the will, the reason, and the good, are of such great importance and are so usually ignored that I feel our short statement of the situation warrants the reader's sympathetic attention. Some other important points raised in this work are as follows: (r) Men are self-transcending creatures, able to stand apart from themselves, evaluate themselves, change themselves, deceive them selves, "love their loves and hate their hates." Man's ability to stand outside of himself and to control himself is clearly involved in the con cept of freewill - nearly identical with it, in fact - and when examined closely this ability appears surpassingly strange. (2) The notions of association and habit, which appear on the surface VIII PREFACE to support the determinist position, are really very compatible with the libertarian position; in fact, necessary to it. (3) Determinism, though it says the future is already laid out, is incompatible with our ever being able to predict the future, since such predictions themselves would and do become new causal determinants acting in the present and hence altering after the fact what was supposed to have been already determined and foreseen. (4) Even before the advent of the new physics there was never any philosophically satisfactory reason for supposing that physical nature, much less man's mind, was under the sway of iron-clad mechanical laws. Other points are raised in the following pages, but we believe these points especially are of primary importance, and deserve far more elaboration than they have received historically. This book aims to make a contribution toward that end. I can only express the hope that anyone who candidly and openly considers the various points raised will find the libertarian position to have at least as much intellectual warrant as the alternative view. This book is a collection of the chief considerations which seem to support the notion of freewill. If all of these considerations, taken seriously and considered with some sympathy, fail altogether to incline the reader's mind toward the doctrine of freewill, then I at least know of nothing else to say. I have openly admitted many of the difficulties which face the libertarian position. If the determinist is willing in his own mind to face the difficulties raised against his view, and if he finds those difficulties either refutable or weak, then he must of course remain where he is. CHAPTER ONE THE PROBLEM INTRODUCED Very few persons interested in freewill as a philosophical problem will have any great need for an introduction to the points at issue. Indeed, the problem of freewill must surely be one of the most popular of all philosophical and religious issues. It must occur to most everyone to wonder whether his life and actions are altogether fated or not. "What will be, will be," is a popular saying expressing one side of the issue. Soldiers will say of a fallen comrade, "His number came up," express ing again what is conceived to be the inevitability of certain events. It is well known among educated laymen that many of the results of modern psychological studies are such as to suggest that men are so moulded and impressed by their heredity, training, and environment that their actions and reactions are scarcely, if at all, in their conscious control. Nor is this doctrine that our life and actions are predetermined sup ported only by folk sayings or by an infant science which tomorrow may renounce the "firmly established" conclusions of today. There are very strong and very cogent philosophical reasons, considerations of the most general nature, which incline the mind to the determinist's position. Chief among these is the argument that it is all but impossible to conceive of a man doing what he less wants to do. If a man does something, we automatically know that, at least in some sense, he wanted to do that more than he wanted to do anything else. Perhaps indeed the decision was close. Perhaps he also very much wanted to do something else. Perhaps he agonized over the decision. Grant all of this. But then he did what he most wanted to do. Indeed his action verily defines what he most wanted to do. And, besides, in what sense can we understand the assertion that a man sometimes may do what he less wants to do? Suppose a man very much desires to see a certain moving picture. But he says to himself, "I am a free agent. Just t prove that I am a free agent, I will purposely refrain from seeing this 2 THE PROBLEM INTRODUCED picture. That will demonstrate that at least in one case I have done that which I less wanted to do." But of course there is a glaring fallacy here. Involved in his decision was the desire to make a certain philo sophical point. And that desire was a contributing motive strong enough to prevent him from going to the show. Therefore, he did what he most wanted to do, and did not succeed in making the point he hoped to make. Strangely enough, it may be that this line of argument which seems so marvelously airtight proves in fact too much. And by proving too much it suggests, not necessarily a solution to the problem, but rather a different way of posing the question at issue. The argument was that man always does what he most wants to do, by definition. But it may be that this in fact proves too much, because it makes everything a mere matter of words, a matter of definition, and thus has no real bear ing on the factual question at issue. If we merely define what a man does as that which he most wanted to do (and we may perhaps have no objection to this) we have not touched the real issue. And the real issue is, could he have done something else? Or, to put it another way and a much more helpful way, could he have desired more strongly to do something else if he had wanted to? That is, if we grant that a man's action shows us what he most wants to do, the freewill controversy is merely put off one step. If it sounds absurd to say that a man might do what he overall less wants to do, then we must press the issue back and ask, is a man responsible for his desires being what they are, or are his desires completely bound by his past? This moving of the issue back one step is helpful at least in a very small way by acknowledging what common sense admits: that a man's outward mode of life expresses a state of inner character and inclinations. Common sense and general experience tell us that a man may sometimes pretend to be something he is not, as when we all strive to put our best foot forward for special occasions. But over the long haul our true character inevitably (inter esting word here) manifests itself. N ow, of course, every~ne can see that by merely pushing the question one step back, we have not by any means solved the problem of free will. The determinist may say, indeed has every right to say, that a man desires what he desires because of his prior experience. Even our desires, says he, are determined. For example, here is a man who passionately desires to hoard gold bars in his closet. Almost certainly a clever psychologist could uncover certain experiences, certain types THE PROBLEM INTRODUCED 3 of fears in this man's past which, to a large extent at least, account for his present passion for gold. Perhaps indeed the man well understands himself and can tell us about some boyhood experience with money which impressed itself deeply upon his mind, and to a large extent moulded his future behavior. We could understand very well how a vivid experience might print itself into the mind of a little boy, so that in his adulthood he might very well manifest this hoarding symptom. Noone denies that our desires themselves are influenced by our hered ity and environment, perhaps even by the food we eat, the condition of our various glands, and even drugs we may take. The determinist has not retreated to weaker territory; only to territory that is a bit below the surface, a bit deeper. All of the arguments are the same. The same principles of causal influence still hold. And all reasonable men must admit all of this. But still, the ever present nagging question: granting all of the past causal factors, could he yet have behaved differently, or was his fate out of his hands? We must recognize the speculative nature, the inevitably speculative nature of the freewill question. The question is speculative if for no other reason than the simple fact that human beings are such surpass ingly complex creatures. Two brothers, raised together in virtually identical environments may grow into altogether different personalities, but there may be a perfectly simple explanation for this upon determin istic principles. Perhaps one brother read a book, one sentence of which made a profound impression upon him, and the effect of this sentence was to set his approach in life at a slightly different angle to his brother's. And at the end of twenty years, what at first was only a slight diver gence will have grown into a wide gap. Thus, the divergence of life of two people raised in practically identical circumstances does not by any means prove the existence of freewill, but only shows that little events may have wide repercussions. In effect this means that for the fore seeable future we will have no means for gathering experimental evi dence on the question of whether given exactly similar circumstances (a problematic notion itself), human behavior will always be exactly the same. Probably such evidence will be forev~r beyond the capacity of science, although it is much more likely that science will someday be in a position to show us the wrongheadedness of such a question. (I don't mean to imply that in our present state of ignorance the question is inappropriate - only that it may someday appear so.) As a simple matter of fact we do know, of course, that men react to similar circum stances in different ways, even though trends may appear. Strangely 4 THE PROBLEM INTRODUCED enough, we know that even we ourselves sometimes respond differently to what is apparently the same situation exactly. Faced with temptation we may on one day resist, and on another day, facing exactly the same temptation, we yield. We cannot say whether this proves that we changed our minds and wills or whether the difference was due to some minute difference in the causal situation, say that we had slightly more of some chemical in our blood on the one day rather than the other. Thus the sheer complexity of the human mechanism stands as an ef fective barrior to our answering this question experimentally. But there may be another far more fundamental reason why the problem of freewill must remain speCUlative. And that is: nothing that happens, no matter how wild and unexpected, can ever prove or even have any bearing on the question of whether something else could have happened. Our question is about the future, while all of our experiments, when completed, are in the past. William James expresses this point very well when he says: " ... how can any amount of assurance that something actually happened give us the least grain of information as to whether another thing might or might not have happened in its place? Only facts can be proved by other facts. With things that are possibili ties and not facts, facts have no concern."! Thus, even if, as modern physics suggests, we will never be able to make exact predictions about the future behavior of men or atoms, we will still have no clue as to whether what in fact does happen was inevitable or not. Now we see ourselves led back full circuit to our original point. We can always say that whatever happens was the only possible thing that could have happened. But the question is not settled one way or another by a mere arbitrary proclamation. The crucial point seems to be that we want to know if the future contains more real possibilities than one, and there is no possible experiment we can imagine which will bear on the question. Even so the question is real. It makes perfect sense, can be formulated clearly, and the answer we give to it may have enormous implications for our life and conduct. Although the question is speculative in the sense of being a matter of interpreting the world rather than scientific in the sense of suggesting tests we can perform on the world, it is yet a real and vastly important question. In summary, then, what is the problem of freewill? Probably the most philosophically accurate way of expressing the problem is to ask: does the future contain more real possibilities than one? In human terms this asks if a man's whole life and behaviour is fated or if rather 1 "The Dilemma of Determinism," The Will to Believe (N. Y.: Dover Pub., I956), p. I52
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