Free will Flashcards
(34 cards)
How does the ‘forking paths’ diagram look if determinism is true?
This figure is almost shaped like a road that splits into four roads, but not quite: three of the four “branches” leading away from the “fork” are not connected with the original road, although they come very close to it. The unconnected lines represent possible futures that are not physically possible futures- because they are not physically possible continuations of the present. The part of the long line to the right of the “present” represents a future that is a physically possible continuation of the present. The gaps between the long line and the unconnected lines represent causal discontinuities, violations of the laws of nature—in a word, miracles.
How does the ‘forking paths’ diagram look if we have free will?
The earlier diagram, however, represents an indeterministic situation. The road really does fork. The present is followed by four possible futures. Any one of them could, consistently with the laws of nature, evolve out of the present. Any one of them could, consistently with the laws of nature, turn out to be the actual future.
What is compatibilism and incompatibilism?
Compatibilism: free will and determinism are compatible
Incompatibilism: free will and determinism are incompatible
How might a compatibilist define when futures are ‘open’ to an agent?
According to this solution, a future is open to an agent if, given that the agent chose that future, chose that path leading away from (what seemed to be) a fork in the road of time, it would come to pass. Thus it is open to me to stop writing this book and do a little dance because, if I so chose, that’s what I’d do. But if Alice is locked in a prison cell, it is not open to her to leave: if she chose to leave, her choice would be ineffective because she would come up against a locked prison door. Now consider the future I said was open to me—to stop writing and do a little dance—and suppose determinism is true. Although a choice on my part to behave in that remarkable fashion would (no doubt) be effective if it occurred, it is as a matter of fact not going to occur, and therefore, given determinism, it is deter- mined by the present state of things and the laws of nature that such a choice is not going to occur. It is in fact determined that nothing is going to occur that would have the consequence that I stop writing and do a little dance. Therefore, none of the futures in which I act in that bizarre way has a physically possible connection with the present: such a future could come to pass only if it were inaugurated by an event of a sort ruled out by the present state of things and the laws of nature. And yet as we have seen, many of these futures are “open” to me in the sense of ‘open’ the compatibilist has proposed.
Why would a compatibilist argue that their definition of ‘open’ is the correct definition?
And what is the relevant sense of “open”? Just the one I have proposed, says the compatibilist. One modifies behavior by modifying the choices people make. That procedure is effective just insofar as choices are effective in producing behavior. If Alfred chooses not to steal (and remains constant in that choice), then he won’t steal. But if Alfred chooses not to be subject to the force of gravity, he will nevertheless be subject to the force of gravity. Although it would no doubt be socially useful if there were some people who were not subject to the force of gravity, there is no point in threatening people with grave consequences if they do not break the bonds of gravity, for even if you managed to induce some people to choose not to be subject to the force of gravity, their choice would not be effective. Therefore (the compatibilist concludes), it is entirely appropriate to speak of a future as “open” if it is a future that would be brought about by a choice—even if it were a choice that was determined not to occur. And if Alfred protests when you punish him for not choosing a future that was in this sense open to him, on the ground that it was determined by events that occurred before his birth that he not make the choice that would have inaugurated that future—if he protests that only a miracle could have inaugurated such a future—you can tell him his punishment will not be less effective in modifying his behavior (and the behavior of those who witness his punishment) on that account.
What is an untouchable fact?
Let us understand ‘x can’t do anything about y (and never could have)’ in the following very strong sense: ‘x is and always was unable to anything about y, and x would never have been able to do anything about y, no matter what knowledge x might have had and no matter how lucky x might have been’. Even in this very strong sense of the words, it remains true that there are facts that no human being can do anything about—and that no human being in history could ever have done anything about: the four facts I have cited, and of course, an enormous number of others. Let us call these facts “untouchable” facts.
What is the Principle?
Suppose it’s an untouchable fact that p. And suppose also that the following conditional (if-then) statement expresses an untouchable fact: if p, then q. It follows from these two suppositions that it’s an untouchable fact that q.
Why must the compatibilist deny the Principle?
If the Principle is true, and determinism is true, then all facts are untouchable facts. Most people—at least most people who knew I was writing a book—would assume that this fact was not an untouchable fact because, if for no other reason, they would assume that I was (or once had been) in a position to “do something about it.” They would assume that it was open to me to have undertaken some other project or no project at all. However, the Principle means that these actions are not ‘open’ to me in the relevant sense.
Can we retain free will if indeterminism is true?
Let us suppose that a certain current-pulse is proceeding along one of the neural pathways in Jane’s brain and that it is about to come to a fork. And let us suppose that if it goes to the left, she will make her confession, and that if it goes to the right, she will remain silent. And let us suppose that it is undetermined which way the pulse will go when it comes to the fork: even an omniscient being with a complete knowledge of the state of Jane’s brain and a complete knowledge of the laws of physics and unlimited powers of calculation could say no more than, “The laws and the present state of her brain would allow the pulse to go either way; consequently, no prediction of what the pulse will do when it comes to the fork is possible; it might go to the left, and it might go to the right, and that’s all there is to be said.”
Now let us ask: Is it up to Jane whether the pulse goes to the left or to the right? If we think about this question for a moment, we shall see that it is very hard to see how this could be up to her. Nothing in the way things are at the instant before the pulse makes its “decision” to go one way or the other makes it happen that the pulse goes one way or goes the other. If it goes to the left, that just happens. If it goes to the right, that just happens. There is no way for Jane to influence the pulse. There is no way for her to make it go one way rather than the other.
What is the standard view of ‘event causation’?
This is the orthodox, or “Humean” position: although our idioms may sometimes suggest otherwise, causes and effects are always events. An event is a change in the intrinsic properties of an individual or a change in the ways certain individuals are related to one another. We may say that “Stalin caused” the deaths of millions of people, but when we talk in this way, we are not, in the strictest sense, saying that an individual thing (Stalin) was the cause of certain events. It was, strictly speaking, certain events (certain actions of Stalin) that were the cause of certain other events (the millions of deaths).
What is agent causation?
This “type” of causation is usually labeled ‘agent-causation’, and it is contrasted with ‘event-causation’, the other “type” of causation, the kind of causation that occurs when one event causes another event. If there is such a thing as agent-causation, however, some changes are not due to earlier changes but simply to agents: to agents full stop; to agents period.
What is a thought experiment that might suggest free will is a necessary evolutionary adaptation?
It can plausibly be argued that it would be impossible under such circumstances ever to try to decide what to do. Suppose, for example, that you are in a certain room, a room with a single door, and that this door is the only possible way out of the room. Suppose that, as you are thinking about whether to leave the room, you hear a click that may or may not have been the sound of the door’s being locked. You are now in a state of uncertainty about whether the door is locked and are therefore in a state of uncertainty about whether it is possible for you to leave the room. Can you continue to try to decide whether to leave the room? It would seem not. (Try the experiment of imagining yourself in this situation and seeing whether you can imagine yourself continuing to try to decide whether to leave.) You cannot because you no longer believe it’s possible for you to leave the room. (It’s not that you believe it’s impossible for you to leave the room. You don’t believe that either, for you are in a state of uncertainty about whether it is possible for you to leave.) You can, of course, try to decide whether to get up and try the door. But that is—at least you probably believe this—possible for you. And you can try to decide, “conditionally,” whether to leave the room if the door should prove to be unlocked. But that is not the same thing as trying to decide whether to leave the room.
What might be a reasonable conclusion from this thought experiment about the evolutionary necessity of a feeling of freedom?
This thought-experiment convinces me that I cannot try to decide whether to do A or B unless I believe that doing A and doing B are both possible for me. And therefore I am convinced that I could not try to decide what to do unless I believed that more than one course of action was sometimes open to me. And if I never tried to decide what to do, if I never deliberated, I should not be a very effective human being. In the state of nature, I should no doubt starve. In a civilised society, I should probably have to be institutionalised. Belief in one’s own free will is therefore some- thing we can hardly do without. It would seem to be an evolutionary necessity that beings like ourselves should believe in their own free will. And evolutionary necessity has scant respect for such niceties as logical consistency. It is therefore doubtful whether we can trust our conviction that we have free will (always supposing that we do have this conviction). If evolution has forced a certain belief on us (for the simple reason that we can’t survive without that belief), the fact that we hold it provides no evidential support for the hypothesis that the belief is true; it does not even support the hypothesis that that belief is logically consistent.
What is Van Inwagen’s preferred position?
I conclude that there is no position one can take concerning free will that does not confront its adherents with mystery. I myself prefer the following mystery: I believe that the outcome of our deliberations about what to do is undetermined and that it is nevertheless—in some way I have no shadow of an understanding of—sometimes up to us what the outcome of these deliberations will be.
What is the Principle of Alternative Possibilities?
Principle of Alternative Possibilities (PAP): a person is morally responsible for what she has done only if she could have done otherwise.
Why is the PAP relevant to the question of whether free will requires the ability to do otherwise?
If the PAP is false and we accept the common assumption that free will is a necessary condition for moral responsibility, then the ability to do otherwise is not a necessary condition for free will.
What does it mean to be morally responsible?
To be morally responsible is to be the proper object of the “reactive attitudes,” such as respect, praise, forgiveness, blame, indignation, and the like.
Why does the PAP seem to be supported by ordinary judgements of moral responsibility?
Consider persons with mental disorders such as kleptomania or agoraphobia. When these disorders are considered severe enough to compel behaviour, blame and resentment no longer seem warranted. Similarly, we may be less inclined to condemn a criminal when we discover that his illegal acts were the result of a brain tumour, or to praise the generosity of person who is compelled to give things away. Those who, whether pathologically or not, act from overwhelming stress, fear, or guilt are not praised or blamed for what they do. And while young children may have a limited capacity for self-control, among the many reasons we don’t hold them morally responsible is that we think they are often powerless to resist their impulses.
How might an opponent of PAP respond to the suggestion that the PAP explains ordinary judgements of moral responsibility?
In reply, an opponent of PAP may concede that in all such cases, both responsibility and alternatives are diminished or absent, yet still deny that we can generalise from these to PAP, for in addition to lacking alternatives, these agents are missing other important moral or psychological capacities. It could be the absence of these, not the lack of alternatives, that explains why these agents aren’t responsible. Put another way: perhaps having alternatives is merely correlated in ordinary circumstances with the true requirements for responsibility, whatever those might be. A more refined test of PAP needs to look at more exotic scenarios in which these other conditions are present while alternatives are not.
How might we leverage ‘ought implies can’ to support the PAP? (moral argument)
There are also moral arguments in favour of the PAP. One such argument appeals to the principle associated with Kant- ‘ought’ implies ‘can’. You cannot be morally obligated to do something that is impossible for you. You are under no obligation to make a donation of one billion dollars right now to charity if your net worth is one million. This principle ‘ought implies can’ is not universally accepted, but it does have significant plausibility. We can formulate an argument in favour of the PAP employing this principle. In the following argument, x refers to an agent, y refers to an action.
Premise 1: If x is blameworthy for y, then x ought not to have done y.
Premise 2: If x ought not to have done y, then x could have refrained from doing y.
Conclusion: Therefore, if x is blameworthy for y, then x could have refrained from doing y.
This argument seems compelling. It is valid, and it seems difficult to deny either premise. It is worth noting that this argument is trying to establish a weaker claim than the PAP. This is because the argument only applies to ‘blameworthy’ actions. It is difficult to utilise ‘ought implies can’ in the discussion of ‘praiseworthy’ actions, because in those cases, someone acts as they ought to act and hence we cannot employ ‘ought’ to consider the counterfactual alternative action (Robb 2020, 2.4).
Susan Wolf might argue that the inability to leverage ‘ought implies can’ for praiseworthy actions is because of an asymmetry in moral responsibility. A person is morally blameworthy for what they have done only if they could have done otherwise. This requirement of alternative possibilities does not apply to morally praiseworthy actions. This is because the freedom required for moral responsibility is the “freedom to be good” (Wolf 1980, 166).
What is the fundamental challenge that Frankfurt cases pose to the PAP?
Supposedly they establish cases where someone is morally responsible, but they could not have done otherwise.
What does Frankfurt say is distinctive about his examples?
Constructing counterexamples to PAP is not difficult. It is necessary only to conceive circumstances which make it inevitable that a person will perform some action but which do not bring it about that he performs it.
What is the Frankfurt case involving drugs?
Let us say that a person decides to take and does take a certain drug, just in order to enjoy the euphoria he expects it to induce. Now suppose further that his taking the drug would have been made to happen in any case, by forces which were in fact inactive but which would have come into play if he had not on his own decided and acted as he did. Let us say that, unknown to himself, the person is addicted to the drug and would therefore have been driven irresistibly to take it if he had not freely gone about doing so. His dormant addiction guarantees that he could have avoided neither deciding to take nor taking the drug, but it plays no role in bringing about his decision or his act. As the actual sequence of events develops, everything happens as if he were not addicted at all. The addiction is clearly irrelevant in this case to the question of whether the person is morally responsible for taking the drug.
What is the Frankfurt case involving Black, Jones and voting?
Black is a nefarious neurosurgeon. In performing an operation on Jones to remove a brain tumor, Black inserts a mechanism into Jones’s brain which enables Black to monitor and control Jones’s activities. Jones, meanwhile, knows nothing of this. Black exercises this control through a computer which he has programmed so that, among other things, it monitors Jones’s voting behaviour. If Jones shows an inclination to decide to vote for [the Democrat], then the computer, through the mechanism in Jones’s brain, intervenes to assure that he actually decides to vote for [the Republican], and does so vote. But if Jones decides on his own to vote for [the Republican], the computer does nothing but continue to monitor- without affecting- the goings-on in Jones’s head.
Suppose Jones decides to vote for [the Republican] on his own, just as he would have if Black had not inserted the mechanism into his head. Then Frankfurt claims that Jones is responsible for voting for [the Republican], regardless of the fact that he could not have done otherwise. (Fischer 1982: 26; cp. Frankfurt 1969: 835–836)
