For a country founded on the premise of individual freedom, it is a salient paradox that our own metaphysical philosophy and science cannot definitively pronounce the will free. This is not for lack of effort, as many of the top minds in the Western intellectual tradition have written reams on this topic over the course of centuries. If there were one philosopher who could be counted on to pronounce the will free, if it were possible to do so, it is John Searle of the UC Berkeley philosophy department, known for opinionatedness verging on bombast and for realism more akin to John Wayne than Aristotle. He has also earned his reputation near the top of the field of philosophy -- at least as regards consciousness. And what does Dr. Searle have to say? -- that we are nowhere (regarding the free-will question).
This does not mean that will isn't free -- it just means that it cannot be pronounced free on the basis of our scientific inquiries -- and of course, our society (I'm writing in the United States) often regards science as the final arbiter of such questions. Nonetheless, the repetition of freedom as a mantra, defining our society from its origins in the eighteenth century, continues through the present day.
What are we to make of such a contradiction at the foundations of our socity? Is it possible to continue ignoring such a foundational gap, as our nation faces newer and more dangerous challenges. It is possible that a crack in the nation's philosophical underpinnings has grown over time to become the source of our current dilemmas?
By way of reconciling this conceptual gap, it may be worth recalling the assumptions underlying human freedom. Our ability to act freely in this world, according to our own directives, assumes a dichotomy between subject and object, between doer and deed, between actor and action, between controller and controlled. This relationship between subject and object has been recognized for millennia, and it presumes a separation between self and nonself. In the case of action, the self is the agent, and the nonself is acted upon. And yet if action is carefully analyzed, is there any clear point of delineation between self and nonself?
Action begins with a conscious desire to act, followed by formulation of a motor impulse in the brain's supplementary motor area, followed by the direction of an electrical impulse along nerves leading to the muscles, which are moved (following a transduction into mechanical energy) and which themselves finally move the bones. Or something like that -- the details don't matter here. What matters is that action has been studied and understood as a causal sequence of events starting with a "will to act" and ending with a physical motion. The big question involves determining where in this sequence the line is crossed between controller and controlled -- between self and non-self.
Philosophically, no such point of delineation can be identified. This results from the illusory nature of the distinction between self and nonself. Vedantic philosophy calls illusion maya. Perhaps an example of this effect is love, where the distinction between self and other begins to fade. Science cannot prove a distinction between self and nonself, because it must assume such a distinction in order to distinguish theoriest from theory, scientist from science, experimental observer from the experimentally observed. These distincions are not a result of science but a pre-requisite.
The flawed assumption underlying political freedom is that we are each individual agents acting on the world -- controlling and changing it, making it conform to our needs and wishes. Perhaps it is more realistic to act as an inseparable part of this world, immesurably aggrandized in merging with something larger -- at one with the world, with nature, with each other.
If this seems to stretch a point with a measure of false piety, it seems that way to me, too. Like others, I operate under a biologically ordained feeling of separation, with occasional inklings of a deeper connection with the world. Acting as an integral part of something larger, I feel the effects of my choices and actions before taking them -- knowing that to harm someone else is to harm myself. Conversely, acting unilaterally on the world, I sometimes get into trouble, ignoring the ramifications of my choices, eventually experiencing the crafty designs and machinations that inevitably echo back to their source.
And this is the shortcoming of political freedom -- individual rights imply no constraints of reason, responsibility, compassion. The Constitution was written for a people who were relatively religious (by today's standards), and Madison explained that it was inadequate for any other. This is not to say that religion is sufficient to ensure a tranquil society, nor that secularism precludes responsibility. Rather, political guarantees of freedom are neutral with respect to how they manifest in action. Political liberty is merely a potential -- like an artist's blank canvas. Yet one cannot blink an eye without impacting others.
Since Plato's Republic, Western thinkers have inquired as to the best way to govern human beings. Maybe there isn't a best way. If there is, no prescription that I might offer is likely ever to come to pass. For me wisdom lies in the accepting that I was born into a troubled world and will probably one day leave it that way. Chuck Palahniuk put it this way: "Maybe self-improvement isn't the answer . . . . Maybe self-destruction is the answer."
Only in death are there no more shackles -- and no one any longer to shackle. In eternity's approach, there is no longer any need to lie and no one to lie to. In the eyes of eternity, one can see the true self, to whom there is no need to lie -- and there never was. In the infinite moment that marks our passing lies only the self, the cosmos, and their inextricable commingling -- with no trace of the daunting separation that once felt so real.
And so I have asked here only for the chance to clear my conscience as regards a topic I've heard broached, hailed, and proclaimed a million times at least. Yet regarding the subject of freedom, I see little evidence that we understand it fully. Perhaps we need greater honesty regarding the stark gap between our political philosophy and our scientific/metaphysical philosophy. Overuse of the word freedom has weakened its significance -- like a currency whose value declines from overprinting. The claim that our freedoms and associated rights are "self-evident," as Jefferson described them, obscures the uncertain foundation on which they rest.
In trading the role of agent acting on the world for a role as an inseparable part, a humility follows that brings with it a freedom of a different kind -- a spiritual liberation more than a political one -- an internal freedom more than a material one. There follows a loosening of the bonds of separation from a vast and sometimes cold universe -- followed gracefully by a oneness all-encompassing -- complete, content, and peaceful in itself. And even if only for a moment I can feel such a beautiful blending with the world before returning -- a Darwinin automaton -- to the chaotic race for survival and success, pushing through hectic streets toward destinations of uncertain permanence, then at least for that moment I can feel peace and liberation that has no borders to defend. This is what I feel now, recalling Bukowski's wish to continue writing "until the magic that happens to me happens to you."
Thank you so much for reading. And if you're not reading this, what better time than now to start?
Eric
