Unburdened by choice

How I made peace with (the lack of) free will

Heaven does nothing: its non-doing is its serenity. Earth does nothing: its non-doing is its rest. From the union of these two non-doings all actions proceed, all things are made. How vast, how invisible this coming to be! - Zhuangzi

"If you could go back in time, what would you do differently?"

There's a gravitational pull to this question. In the realm of might-have-been everything is possible. When we ask, "what if...?" it's visceral. Like witnessing a gruesome accident on the highway, we can't look away.

When asked this, most people fall in one of two camps. They will go for the Zen Master reply: "I wouldn't change anything; all I've done has led me to this, and I'm deeply grateful." Or the Time Architect answer, in which they pinpoint the exact moment in time they would alter: "don't let Sally go on that bus" or "don't move into that house."

I used to fantasize about alternate scenarios of my life - from the recent past, to ancient history. "If only I had that clever comeback yesterday" or "I wish I had never sent that text all those year ago." This daydreaming fantasy can paralyze us into re-living and rearranging our past, pulling us away from the present. In reality, all we're doing is creating houses of cards that will crumble the minute we stop thinking about them.

But asking "what if I had done x instead of y?" always implies you could have actually chosen x.

One of the most intriguing perspectives on quantum mechanics is the Many-Worlds Interpretation, initially proposed by Hugh Everett and subsequently championed by physicists like Sean Carroll. Quantum mechanics shows that particles are in a state of superposition, like a coin perpetually in the air, neither heads nor tails. When observed, a particle"chooses" a particular state. It becomes "heads" or "tails." The Many-Worlds Interpretation suggests that all those possible outcomes, before a particle was observed, are actually realized, only in alternate universes. Every time a quantum event happens, the universe splits into different versions of that event. In one universe, you wore your striped tie to work, in another, you wore the plain one. And there are countless universes with different versions of you. In some you're married with kids, in others you're childless and divorced.

I think we like to imagine we could jump through those universes however we like. If we're unsatisfied with this one, we can just choose a different future. Go to a different school. Breakup with our partner. Take a job position in another city. The world (or multiverse) is your oyster. But those options are (necessarily) shaped by conditions already present in your life. (Read that again.) The future isn't infinitely open, rather it's determined by where you are right now: what you value, how you're primed to react to stimuli, the ways you integrate your past experiences.

All events in the universe depend on prior causes¹ and for the most part we recognize that as true, but somehow resist to follow the logic to its natural conclusion, which is that we are also influenced by what came before. The laws of the universe don't stop at our skin.

People feel they have a source of actions and intentions. They feel they have thoughts that dictate their goals and actions, and that's true, but no one chooses their thoughts. You don't control your thoughts. You can't prevent a thought from arriving. Same with intentions - they are not a product of your making - we're not free to choose them. Can you choose what you intend?²

When choosing something (where to go on your next vacation, what to eat for lunch, the color of your tie), are you free to choose that which didn't occur to you to choose?

Almost two years ago, I wrote an article listing 30 big ideas that changed my life. Number two and three on the list were "no free will" and "the birth lottery," which go hand in hand. Like existential mint and chocolate ice cream. The truth is I almost didn't include them. But at the time no one was reading my writing, so I found a breeze of courage in obscurity. I could spell out my most unpopular opinions because my readership could fit in a Japanese "tiny house."

But I was so compelled by this subject that I couldn't ignore it. It kept occupying mental space in my head. So, naturally, it materialized in another article. But I still tiptoed around it. I guess this is me finally spelling it out. This isn't so much about convincing anyone we lack free will, or a scientific treatise on the mechanism behind our choices, but a musing on why, after being lowkey obsessed with the subject, I'm allowing it to deflate like a balloon, and make space for other topics to capture my imagination.

I'm aware how much is at stake when talking about free will. That is why I’ve been reluctant to approach the topic. Upon it rest the monumental concepts of responsibility, reward and punishment, blame and innocence. It affects how we organize our justice system and how we treat those that are convicted. It also is a powerful fuel for loving or hating others. If I believe someone intentionally hurt me, how can I not resent them? If I believe they could have not hurt me, how can I not view them as "responsible"?

Some people when they hear we lack free will, they understand it as either "we don't choose anything," or that our life has already been mapped out so whatever we do is futile. because we're bound to end up in a specific place anyway.³ But neither of those are my position, nor the position of any philosopher or scientist who engages with the topic.

Consider for example how inspiration arises or how you suddenly discover the solution to a problem. I'll use the process of writing to demonstrate this, because it's the one I'm most familiar with. In the process of writing this very article, I'll sometimes stop and ponder. Perhaps a phrase doesn't satisfy me and I want to rewrite it, or I want to come up with a clever analogy. Like when I said above that "my readership could fit in a Japanese tiny house." Where did that come from? Well, some things had to be true for it to pop into my mind. I had to know those tiny houses exist, and the idea needed to "bubble up" to the surface (of conscious awareness) for me to consider it. And then it needed to outshine all other options. But the fact that it won against the other expressions I was considering is not an act of deliberate choice, it was simply a realization that that expression was the most fitting in that context.

We all accept there are factors that we didn't choose yet influence our life - from genetics, to our upbringing. Yet we cling to those things that "are in our control" to justify how one's life turned out. This is the fuel of motivational speeches and self-help books - the idea that it doesn't matter what your past looked like, you are now in full control of how the future will unfold.

Understanding that free will is basically nowhere to find (and if it exists it sure knows how to hide), my approach to life is dramatically different. I have no need to read yet another guide on how to "conquer" my mind or tap into an inexhaustible well of willpower. I can be liberated from hating the ones that hurt me, and also hold myself with more grace about my objectionable actions in the past. When someone in front of me at airport security takes an ungodly amount of time to do the belongings-in-the-tray-step-through-the-gate ritual, I will still probably be mildly inconvenienced, but I'll recognize that that person acts in accordance with how their day (and week and month)⁴ has been going, along with the type of person they shaped up to be, and how familiar they are with that security process.

For a brief period, I was lured in a overly nihilistic position when it came to free will. I thought all I did was in vain. I was disillusioned with change or progress.⁵ I recognized my lack of alignment. Here I was, thinking people will do "whatever they want anyway," yet I was writing to them about how they can change their lives for the better.

Now I hold a more optimistic and empowering view, that came after deepening my understanding of the subject. I reminded myself of all the times in my life when I’ve been changed by people or ideas or circumstances and how that is still possible in the future.

One thing's for sure: you will be changed by this article. But you don't have any power to choose how that will happen. Will you take my words seriously? Will you go and research the topic on your own in more depth?⁶ Will you unsubscribe because you think I'm talking non-sense? Whatever the outcome, it will be informed by the sum of your experiences up to now. But it will not be "free." Could you choose to find this article amazing, when you thought it was only okay?

By now, you probably have your own ideas, objections, and questions to what I've said. Good. I invite you to investigate them and prod a little deeper into the nature of your mind. How did you arrive at those conclusions? Can you choose to arrive at the exact opposite conclusion? Probably not, right? Why?

The things you do, the people you meet, the thoughts you contemplate - they'll all change who you are. So change is possible. So is growth. You can't "freely" (whatever that means) choose to change, but you'll be changed by the situations and people and ideas you encounter.

After years of ruminating on free will, and consuming books and video about it, I'm prepared to put the topic somewhere in a remote corner of my brain. And the fact that it's not a "free" choice in the true sense of the word doesn't make it any less important. So the question "If you could go back in time, what would you do differently?" doesn't provoke any more existential speculation because I recognize I couldn't have done anything any other way. But what I can do is learn from that and try to do better in the future.

1. We won't get into quantum physics. Even if you think it plays a role in our behavior (which as we understand it so far, it doesn't), randomness is the antithesis of free will.

2. At the start of this year I wrote Meditation on intention, where I shared my intentions for the year. The term "intention" in that context referred to a kind of goal. Nevertheless, the intentions I set were in congruence with my lived experience until then, plus all the influences I had. How could I have chosen otherwise?

3. This view is called fatalism, the idea that you’re “destined” to do X, so try as you might, you’ll end up doing X.

4. You might remember I wrote at the start of this year a Meditation on intention, where I shared my intentions for the year. The term "intention" in that context referred to a kind of goal. Nevertheless, the intentions I set were in congruence with my lived experience until then, plus all the influences I had. How could I have chosen otherwise? If you set your own intentions, could you have chosen others?

5. This resulted from a naive understanding of the topic.

6. If you're inclined to do that, I recommend Robert Sapolsky's Determined and Sam Harris's Free will. If a book is too much to commit to, start with a podcast, like this one for example.