Choice
The publication last year of Robert M. Sapolsky's Determined: A Science of Life without Free Will sparked a flurry of book reviews focused on his central thesis that free will is an illusion. He argues that our actions are a function of our biology, our environment, and our individual histories; thus, we are not responsible for them. What appears to us to be a choice is, in fact, a predictable response.
I have not read the book, only a few reviews. Although Sapolsky bolsters his position by referencing neuroscience, I am confident that exploring his reasoning in depth will not change my understanding of the ancient conundrum or determinism versus free will.
The debate about the nature of free will can be traced back to the early Greek philosophers. Since then, others who have considered the nature of determinism and free will have come to be divided into two camps. The incompatibilists believe that determinism and free will cannot be reconciled, that either one or the other must be a true reflection of reality. The compatibilists find a middle ground where both exist.
If pressed to choose one or the other of these two schools, I would place myself in the latter. I prefer to go a third way, though. It doesn’t matter whether our actions are constrained fully by internal and external factors or are entirely a result of our choices. What is important is that the overwhelming majority of people believe they have free will.
Even at such an early point in this essay, some might be dreading the esoteric discussion they fear will follow. I direct those who are interested in esoterica to look up the various articles on the subject available online. My concerns are of a more practical nature, particularly for those who have chosen careers in the field of public administration. One of its central tenets is that its practitioners are accountable for their actions. If our actions are determined and we are therefore not responsible for them, it is illogical to suggest that we should be held to account for them. If a public office is a public trust but those officer holders are ultimately unaccountable, the enterprise of governance will be found to have a shaky foundation indeed.
It is evident that most of us, without much thought, would place ourselves among the compatibilists. Consider by way of example how we look upon homicides. We have a system of justice that is based on the belief that human beings, with few exceptions, are rational individuals with moral sensibilities that make them capable of distinguishing between right and wrong. The exceptions include children and those suffering from severe mental illness. In a trial for the crime of murder, a schizophrenic might be found not guilty by reason of insanity. In other words, the individual's actions are believed to result from internal and external factors that compelled him in such a way that he could not be said to have exercised a choice.
There are other considerations taken into account when judging the crime of murder. A premeditated murder is treated more harshly in many instances than one that is seen as resulting from an immediate and emotional cause that provoked a hasty and ill-considered response.
We might make a somewhat similar distinction, but for different reasons, regarding cases of vehicular homicide. Was the accident that led to a death a result of drunk driving? Despite the driver's impairment, jurors are likely to conclude that he or she made a conscious choice to get behind the wheel after having consumed too much alcohol. In contrast, a death resulting from hazardous driving conditions caused by a severe and unexpected weather event might be seen as beyond the control of the driver.
In short, sometimes we view people as responsible for their actions and at other times we conclude they are not.
There is a large body of public policy that has as its basis a firm belief that, despite our fallibilities, adults can be held accountable for the things they do the majority of the time. This belief serves to hold society together, constraining our worst impulses for the benefit of the community as a whole and punishing or ostracizing those who do not conform. But is this fair? Perhaps, as the determinists would suggest, all our actions are the result of factors over which we exercise no control that propel us toward one and only one outcome .
It appears from the reviews that Mr. Sapolsky attempts to support this conclusion by finding a scientific basis for determinism. Most others, including many philosophers, hold to the opinion that he and other hard determinists are wrong, that we do indeed have the freedom of choice. This is why I suggest it doesn't matter whether or not we have free will. The belief that we have the ability to choose, even if that belief is wrong-headed or unscientific, is a sufficient basis on which to organize a society and to hold its members accountable to one another for their actions.
This perspective is captured well in a favorite quote from the great author and Nobel laureate Isaac Bashevis Singer:
Of course I believe in free will. I have no choice.
Neither Mr. Sapolsky nor I can be certain whether humans exercise free will. We can marshal evidence and logic in support of one point of view or another. At the end of the day, however, we will lack the certainty necessary to definitively conclude who is right.
It is incorrect to suggest that a belief in determinism means that there is no basis for systems of ethics and the legal structures based on them. Even determinists are likely to recognize that some organizing principles are essential to society even in the absence of individual choice. For those who violate prosocial norms in a determinist world, the consequences of their actions are less likely to result in punishment than in isolating them from society until they modify their behavior.
I feel confident in saying that the determinist world view is not the dominant world view. Most of us believe we choose freely among options available to us. Those options are limited by various factors, but even then we're sure some room remains within which to opt one course of action over another.
This is a world, then, in which faith in the existence of individual free will forms the basis for systems of ethics and the establishment of standards of behavior around which societies are structured. Like Isaac Bashevis Singer, we have no choice but to believe in free will because we have been socialized to that end. It does not matter, except perhaps to philosophers and curious non-philosophers, whether humans truly have the capacity to exercise free will. What matters is that we believe we do. Because we believe we do, we have implicitly agreed to be bound by strictures based on accountability for our choices.
At the same time, we can agree there are limitations on some individuals' freedom to choose, to accept that their choices are determined by internal and external factors over which they exercise little or no control. We excuse the antisocial behavior of children while they inculcated with the moral sensibilities of adults. Similarly, we apply different standards to the actions of those who suffer from mental illness or dementia. We recognize that those ordered to fight our wars are compelled to act in ways we do not accept when there is an absence of hostilities. We treat these soldiers humanely when their PTSD renders them less capable of prosocial actions.
As time goes on and we develop more complete knowledge about human behavior, we might well explore other ways in which to modify society so as to reflect better the extent to which choice is limited. I doubt we will ever leave free will behind us. I suspect our evolution as a species, and the resultant development of human societies, has made that a choice foreclosed to us.
On a different note, I want to call readers' attention to the new three-part Freakonomics Radio podcast series devoted to the late Richard Feynman, a physicist perhaps best known for his role in investigating the Challenger disaster. He was an original thinker and, for that reason alone, is deserving of much wider recognition. Do yourself a favor. Tune in to this series and then read his books Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman! and What Do You Care What Other People Think? I promise this will be well worth your time.