“Free-will” has been a hot topic lately. Indeed, it’s been the crux of philosophical debate for a very long time.
The question is — do we have it?
Are we really in control of our decisions, our actions, and ultimately our destiny? And if so, how much power do we actually have over the forces that influence (some would say — “control”) us?.
The death of actor Philip Seymour Hoffman recently has, temporarily at least, brought this ongoing debate to a much wider audience. In fact, I’m not sure I’d be writing this essay were it not for the ensuing discussion about how much control the now-deceased actor had over his own life.
One side of the argument says we don’t have free will. It’s perhaps best summed up in an article written by Debbie Bayer posted on February 4th which can be read here: “Phillip Seymour Hoffman Did Not Have Choice or Free Will and Neither Do You.”
I’ll let the author speak for herself and I encourage you to take some time to read her viewpoint. While I disagree with several of the assumptions contained therein, as well as take issue with her final conclusion, nonetheless her view on free will merits consideration and discussion, as do the explanations of many people interested in this timely topic who have asserted that Mr. Hoffman was a sick man who deserves our compassion rather than criticism.
Before elaborating much deeper, allow me to spend a moment defining “free will” — as I understand it.
The universe is comprised of atoms, and nothing else. Each one of us is just a massive collection of molecules. How many you may ask? Well, one human cell has been found to contain approximately 100 trillion atoms. Written out longhand that’s 100,000,000,000,000 atoms. That’s a lot of atoms and a lot of zeros. And that’s just one cell in the human body.
Stay with me. I’ll try and keep this simple. Especially for those who like me who don’t have much of a science background.
Did you ever stop to think that parts of your body are very likely comprised of at least a few particles that were once part of Socrates? Or Julius Caesar? Or Jack the Ripper?
Indeed, the atoms that comprise who and what we are at this moment have been in existence from the origins of the universe. They could be gases that were released many years ago on the planet Saturn. They could be particles from a meteor that hit the earth’s atmosphere and then disintegrated, the barely-visible mist of ash falling to earth and breathed in later as stardust. Atoms are finite. Over time they take different forms depending upon conditions. Some become vapor. Some turn into liquid. Others remain a solid mass.
The point is this. According to astrophysicist Neil De Grasse Tyson, we are the universe. The things that make up the human body are inherent throughout the solar system — including the three most predominant elements in the human body which just so happen to be the most common elements found in the universe — hydrogen, oxygen, and carbon. We also contain about 2 percent other stuff, but the majority of our body is made up of these three common elements. Coincidence? I think not.
Still with me? Good. Now, here’s where things really get interesting.
So, the universe as we know it is nothing more than an incalculable number of atoms constantly crashing into each other and creating chaos. What our five senses perceive are the macro-manifestations of molecules, which take solid (and sometimes liquid and gas) form. We hold up a finger and what we’re really looking at is something like 100,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,ooo atoms. There are probably a few more zeros tacked on there, but you get the point.
If all these atoms are continuously whirling around the universe, then what power do we have to control them? Our bodies have somehow harnessed them, at least for a duration of about 74 years — the average life span of the typical homo sapiens. Then after death, the atoms slowly disintegrate from one another and drift elsewhere. Even so, what makes us believe we have the power to control what really happens within our brains when neurotransmitters are constantly reacting to the stimuli around us? We may think we have the power to make decisions for ourselves. But some would say the dye is already cast when it comes to how atoms will react, what our minds will do, and what actions we shall ultimately take. You may think you’re in control of what happens, but you aren’t. You’re just not aware of all those forces, internal and external, which determine our will, which is not free. It’s far more convenient to believe the illusion that you control your destiny. But we’re really fooled by our own senses.
In his book Free Will, philosopher and neuroscientist Sam Harris opens Chapter One recounting a horrific crime — a true story. A few years ago, two young men broke into the suburban home of a newly-married couple and ended up murdering them both. But not before torturing the man and wife to death and making them do unspeakable horrors. The story is graphic and frankly, quite nauseating.
The two criminals were caught and were later interviewed. Both confessed to the crimes. It would seem they made a series of appalling decisions, one after another, which led to two unnecessary deaths. The two men stated they had no intention of killing the family when they entered the home. What started out as a burglary snowballed into a scene of kidnapping, torture, and murder. So, why did things spiral so badly out of control? Neither man had ever killed before. Why would they go to such extremes during this particular crime?
Let’s steer this back on topic. Did the two murderers have free will? Weren’t they capable of exercising restraint at some point? Might they have made the decision to tie their victims up, leave with the stolen property, and then let the couple live? Why would they commit such horrendous crimes? I’ll come back to this later.
The debate over free will has far-reaching consequences for us all. Here’s why. If we aren’t really in control of our emotions and decisions, that is, if we act in a preordained manner from birth, then why should we bear any responsibility for our actions? It’s not my fault, some will insist. It’s bad genetics. It’s mommy not breastfeeding me. It’s that I grew up in the slums. It’s some other sob story that causes me to murder a nice couple in suburbia.
We share a common DNA with most other living species. While the mental capacity of animals is more limited in comparison to humans, it’s just as intriguing to ask if animals have free will. Does your dog or car have control over its life? Or is the animal simply reacting to stimuli — the food bowl, the leash, or a ball tossed in the yard?
Why does the salmon swim upstream? Think for a moment about that. This species makes an extraordinary effort to defy nature. Rather than take the easiest course of action, pursuing the path of least resistance as do most things in the environment, salmon do what seems to be unnatural. Of course, salmon spawning can be explained best by genetics and instinct. The point is, free will is complex and the arguments for and against seem to occasionally contradict each other.
In short, we humans sometimes behave like our pets. We react to food bowls, leashes, and tossed balls. Other times, we defy nature and what seems natural by swimming upstream and committing acts that are seemingly inexplicable.