Whether or not we have free will is an ancient philosophical question. Ancient Greek philosophers already reasoned, ‘This happens because of that. Everything that happens could be an endless sequence of causes and effects.’ We feel we make our own choices. If I went out to buy a garden gnome yesterday, I am inclined to think I could have decided not to go out shopping or to buy something more useful instead, like an inflatable Santa Claus that says ‘Ho ho ho’ when you pinch his nose. If I could go back in time, I might have done something different, or so I believe. But had I felt an uncontrollable urge to buy that gnome, I would have considered myself subjected to forces beyond my control.
Some things are beyond our control. Our biology and culture limit our options. You can’t simply stop breathing or run faster than the speed of sound. Those who have tried, failed, or died. And it is hard to do things that go against the prevailing will of society or your family and friends unless you don’t care about other people’s opinions, which might be something you have no control over. But it seems you have options. Choices like buying a garden gnome don’t raise controversy, and you appear free to make them.
Recent advances in neuroscience have enabled scientists to observe brain activity associated with decision-making. And that was quite revealing. Our choices originate in our brains several milliseconds or even longer before we become aware of them.1 The evidence suggests that there is no free will in the sense we traditionally believe it to exist.
The traditional idea of the will is that it is a force in its own right. Nothing else causes it. It is rooted in the belief that we have a mind, a spirit or a soul that is separable from our bodies. This idea is at odds with scientific findings that the mind results from chemical processes in the brain. Not having a will is not the same as predestination. It doesn’t rule out the possibility that we could make different choices if we went back in time. Our choices could still be random, like the throw of a dice. A dice doesn’t have free will, either.
Religious people face questions like, ‘If we have free will, how can God know what we will choose?’ Or conversely, ‘If God knows what we will choose, how can we have free will?’ The most straightforward answer is that there are two levels: the level of us mere mortals, who make our plans, and the level above, that of the Supreme Puppet Master, who pulls the strings and determines what we will choose. That is not free will at a higher level, but at a lower level, it is. Somehow, some people remain fascinated by this question.
At least we experience making choices. These choices might be illusions, but the feelings that accompany them aren’t. It is the experience of choice that we understand as free will. When you go through an emotional struggle before buying a garden gnome, the emotions are real to you, even when they are chemical processes in the body. Free will, as an experience, exists as we understand it. And it is pointless to argue that even if you could go back in time, you couldn’t have done otherwise, because you can’t go back in time.
Predetermination raises several questions. One is about punishing criminals as retribution rather than to protect the public. A desire for reprisal is a human emotion. But it seems unjust to hold people responsible for actions they can’t control. Often, criminals lack a proper upbringing, or they have psychological issues. And punishing offenders rather than addressing the underlying causes increases the likelihood of recidivism. That may all be true, but it is our nature to have moral systems with accountability and punishments. In that sense, we can’t help ourselves as well. And so, the alternative of having no accountability and punishment is worse.
In our experience, moral rules and punishment matter, just as free will does, and we experience having a choice. That is the point of punishing criminals. And it can deter calculating individuals. From a pragmatic perspective, you can prevent a lot of trouble by rehabilitating criminals when possible. Still, humans are rule-following creatures, and transgressions come with feelings of moral indignation. Failing to cater to feelings of justice and the desire for reprisal undermines the moral fabric of society.
Compatibilism holds that we have free will even when our choices are predetermined. It is similar to the Christian concept of making a moral choice, even though God knows what you will do. It becomes logically consistent if you introduce two levels: one of daily experience and another of the underlying reality. It is a practical approach which allows us to make moral choices. Morality is more than just following rules. It is about doing the right thing. However, the entire concept of morality hinges on the assumption of freedom of choice.
The second question deals with fate. If you are going to die on a preset day, then what is the point of seeing a doctor? Alternatively, you could opt for a dangerous hobby like mountaineering, for you will live until a specific date. But you don’t know that date. So, if you go to a doctor who cures you of an illness that would otherwise have been fatal, that would be predetermined. If you choose not to go to the doctor and you die, that would also be predestination. The same applies to abandoning a hobby such as mountaineering rather than perishing on the slopes of Mount Everest.
The third deals with premonitions and accurate predictions insofar as they are not attributable to fraud or chance. Why can fortune-tellers sometimes make accurate predictions? And why are their predictions unreliable at the same time? The answer is that it is impossible to know the future. If I knew I would have a car accident tomorrow, I would remain home, and the accident wouldn’t happen. Predictions can influence the future, unless they are vague or hidden. In 1914, no one could have guessed that the licence plate number on Franz Ferdinand’s car referred to the end date of the upcoming world war.
So, if I pass a sign saying, ‘You will have a car accident tomorrow,’ it can only be a sign if I laugh about it and discover it was a sign the next day. Premonitions and accurate predictions require more than predestination. If you have a suspicion that proves correct, it is not you knowing the future but the one giving you the premonition. Predetermination suggests that we are like characters in a story, much like the comic book character Spiderman. Spiderman may realise he is a comic character in a story, but only if that is the script. Spiderman can’t change the script, but the script’s author can make him believe he can. That would be a delusion on the part of Spiderman, for you can’t escape destiny.
That is also how voodoo works. The practitioner of voodoo puts needles in a doll, and the targeted subject may suffer intense pain simultaneously, yet there is no causal relationship, nor is there any magic involved. It is a scripted coincidence, and the author of the script wants you to believe that voodoo works.
Predetermination allows for accurate predictions that defy chance. Actions taken to prevent these predictions from being fulfilled must fail, which requires a lack of information on the actors involved. Oedipus fulfilled the prophecy of killing his father and marrying his mother. He didn’t know that the couple he believed to be his parents were not his true parents. Fearing the prediction, he fled, setting off a chain of events that made the prediction come true. The prophecies of ancient Greek oracles only made sense in hindsight. And so, for guidance on people’s actions, they could be pretty worthless.
Latest revision: 16 June 2026
Featured image: Aruba sunset. English Wikipedia.
1. The clockwork universe: Is free will an illusion? Oliver Burkeman. The Guardian (2021).
