Some philosophers argue that free will is only
possible in a deterministic universe, because determinism ensures that our
actions are grounded in our character and reasons rather than in randomness.
Others reject this, claiming that free will is impossible whether the universe
is deterministic or indeterministic. From this perspective, determinism seems
to leave no room for genuine choice, while indeterminism makes actions a
matter of chance rather than control. Still, some hold that indeterminism is
the worse option: even if determinism struggles to explain free will, it at
least preserves a connection between the agent and their actions, making it
the more plausible—if still imperfect—account.
The disagreement comes
down to what people think “free will” requires.
Those who defend free
will in a deterministic universe are usually compatibilists. Thinkers like
David Hume or Daniel Dennett argue that freedom doesn’t mean being uncaused;
it means acting in line with your own reasons, character, and deliberation
without external coercion. In a deterministic world, your choices flow from
who you are, and that—on this view—is exactly what makes them yours.
Determinism gives actions a stable link to the agent, which helps ground
responsibility. If your decision had no cause at all, it would look less like
freedom and more like randomness.
This leads to the second position:
critics of indeterminism. Some philosophers worry that if choices are partly
random—say, influenced by quantum indeterminacy—then they are not under your
control. Robert Kane, a libertarian about free will, tries to respond by
arguing that indeterminacy can occur in moments of inner conflict in a way
that still reflects the agent. But many remain skeptical. They argue that
indeterminism threatens to undermine authorship: if an action is not
determined by you, why think you are responsible for it? That’s why some say
indeterminism is “worse” for free will—it replaces necessity with luck.
There are hard skeptics, like Galen Strawson, who argue that free will is
impossible in both deterministic and indeterministic worlds. His famous “basic
argument” claims that to be truly responsible for your actions, you would have
to be responsible for the way you are (your character, desires, dispositions).
But you cannot ultimately be responsible for those, since they arise from
factors beyond your control—whether determined or random. So neither
determinism nor indeterminism seems to secure the kind of ultimate authorship
that strong free will would require.
This is why some philosophers
describe compatibilism as “the best of a bad lot.” They imagine that
determinism may not give us ultimate, self-creating freedom, but it at least
preserves a meaningful sense in which actions express the agent.
Indeterminism, by contrast, risks dissolving agency into chance. The debate
persists because each view captures part of our intuition: we want our choices
to be both caused by us and not forced upon us, and it’s not obvious that any
metaphysical picture fully satisfies both demands.
Hypothetically, if a
person with clearly indeterministic free will could be found, the arguments
are calling her less than human. Her rape and murder are partly endorsed.
Don’t imagine that the doctrine of free will is the dignified kind thing it is
made out to be.,
Most philosophers draw a clear distinction between
determinism and fatalism, even if they can feel similar.
Determinism is
the idea that every event—including human decisions—follows from prior causes
in accordance with laws of nature. Fatalism, by contrast, is the view that
outcomes will happen no matter what you do. The difference is subtle but
important: in a deterministic picture, what you do is part of the causal chain
that brings about the outcome; in a fatalistic picture, your actions don’t
really make a difference.