The Evangelical Universalist Forum

Free Will: Its Essential Nature and Implications

Two quotes by Mill really hit home. Substitute “intractable material” for “the free wills of creation” and the meaning doesn’t change in the slightest.

“One only form of belief in the supernatural respecting the origin and government of the universe stands wholly clear both of intellectual contradiction and of moral obliquity. It is that which, resigning irrevocably the idea of an omnipotent creator, regards Nature and Life not as the expression throughout of the moral character and purpose of the Deity, but as the product of a struggle between contriving goodness and an intractable material, as was believed by Plato, or a Principle of Evil, as was the doctrine of the Manicheans. A creed like this, which I have known to be devoutly held by at least one cultivated and conscientious person of our own day, allows it to be believed that all the mass of evil which exists was undesigned by, and exists not by the appointment of, but in spite of the Being whom we are called upon, to worship. A virtuous human
being assumes in this theory the exalted character of a fellow-labourer with the Highest, a fellow-combatant in the great strife ; contributing his little, which by the aggregation of many like himself becomes much, towards that progressive ascendancy, and ultimately 'complete triumph of good over evil, which history points to, and which this doctrine teaches us to regard as planned by the Being to whom we owe all the benevolent contrivance we behold in Nature.”

If the maker of the world can all that he will, he wills misery, and there is no escape from the conclusion. The more consistent of those who have deemed themselves qualified to " vin- dicate the ways of God to man " have endeavoured to avoid the alternative by hardening their hearts, and denying that misery is an evil. The goodness of God, they say, does not consist in willing the happi- ness of his creatures, but their virtue ; and the uni- verse, if not a happy, is a just, universe. But waving the objections to this scheme of ethics, it does not at all get rid of the difficulty. If the Creator of man- kind willed that they should all be virtuous, his designs are as completely baffled as if he had willed that they should all be happy : and the order of nature is constructed with even less regard to the requirements of justice than to those of benevolence. If the law of all creation were justice and the Creator omnipotent, then in whatever amount suffering and happiness might be dispensed to the world, each person’s share of them would be exactly proportioned to that person’s good or evil deeds ; no human being would have a worse lot than another, without worse deserts; accident or favouritism would have no part in such a world, but every human life would be the playing out of a drama constructed like a perfect moral tale. No one is able to blind himself to the fact that the world we live in is totally different from this ; insomuch that the necessity of redressing the balance has been deemed one of the strongest arguments for another life after death, which amounts to an admission that the order of things in this life is often an example of injustice, not justice. If it be said that God does not take sufficient account of pleasure and pain to make them the reward or punishment of the good or the wicked, but that virtue is itself the greatest good and vice the greatest evil, then these at least ought to be dispensed to all according to what they have done to deserve them ; instead of which, every kind of moral depravity is entailed upon multitudes by the fatality of their -birth,; through the fault of their parents, of society, or of uncontrollable circumstances, certainly through no fault of their own. Not even on the most distorted and contracted theory of good which ever was framed by religious or philosophical fanaticism, can the government of Nature be made to resemble the work of a being at once good and omnipotent.

The only admissible moral theory of Creation is that the Principle of Good cannot at once and altogether subdue the powers of evil, either physical or moral ; could not place mankind in a world free from the necessity of an incessant struggle with, tlie maleficent powers, or make them always victorious in that struggle, but could and did make them capable of carrying on the fight with vigour and with progressively increasing success. Of all the religious explanations of the order of nature, this alone is neither contradictory to itself, nor to the facts for which it attempts to account. According to it, man’s duty would consist, not in simply taking care of his own interests by obeying irresistible power, but in standing forward a not ineffectual auxiliary to a Being of perfect beneficence; a faith which seems much better adapted for nerving him to exertion than a vague and
inconsistent reliance on an Author of Grood who is supposed to be also the author of evil. And I venture to assert that such has really been, though often unconsciously, the faith of all who have drawn strength and support of any worthy kind from trust in a super-intending Providence. There is no subject on which men’s practical belief is more incorrectly indicated by the words they use to express it, than religion. Many have derived a base confidence from imagining them-selves to be favourites of an omnipotent but capricious and despotic Deity. But those who have been strengthened in goodness by relying on the sympathizing support of a powerful and good Governor of the world, have, I am satisfied, never really believed that Governor to be, in the strict sense of the term, omni- potent. They hare always saved his goodness at the expense of his power. They have believed, perhaps, that he could, if he willed, remove all the thorns from their individual path, but not without causing greater harm to some one else, or frustrating some purpose of greater importance to the general well-being. They have believed that he could do any one thing, but not
any combination of things : that his government, like human government, was a system of adjustments and compromises ; that the world is inevitably imperfect, contrary to his intention. And since the exertion of all his power to make it as little imperfect as pos-sible, leaves it no better than it is, they cannot but regard that power, though vastly beyond human esti-mate, yet as in itself not merely finite, but extremely limited. They are bound, for example, to suppose this irresistible conviction comes out in the writings of religious philosophers, in exact proportion to the general clearness of their un- derstanding. It nowhere shines forth so distinctly as in Leibnitz’s famous The’odice’e, so strangely mistaken for a system of optimism, and, as such, satirized by Yoltaire on grounds which do not even touch the author’s argument. Leibnitz does not maintain that this world is the best of all imaginable, but only of all possible worldi ; which, he argues, it cannot but be, inasmuch as God, who is absolute goodness, has chosen it and not another. In every page of the work he tacitly assumes an abstract possibility and impossibility, independent of
the divine power : and though his pious feelings make him continue to designate that power by the word Omnipotence, ho so explains that term as to make it mean, power extending to aU that is withia the limits of that abstract possibility.

that the best lie could do for his Imman creatures was to make an immense 'majority of all who have yet existed, be born (without any fault of their own) Patagonians, or Esquimaux, or something nearly as brutal and degraded, but to give them capacities which by being cultivated for very many centuries in toil and suffering, and after many of the best speci- mens of the race have sacrificed their lives for the purpose, have at last enabled some chosen portions of the species to grow into something better, capable of being improved in centuries more into something really good, of which hitherto there are only to be found individual instances. It may be possible to believe with Plato that perfect goodness, limited and thwarted in every direction by the intractableness of the material, has done this because it could do no better. But that the same perfectly wise and good Being had absolute power over the material, and made it, by voluntary choice, what it is; to admit this might have been supposed impossible to any one who has the simplest notions of moral good and evil. Nor can any such person, whatever kind of religious phrases he may nse, fail to believe, that if Nature and Man are both the works of a Being of perfect good- ness, that Being intended Nature as a scheme to be amended, not imitated, by Man."

From his 3 essays on religion - which are *very *good.

How about a simple syllogism?

He that commits sin is a slave to sin
Rejecting God is a sin

Therefore, those that reject God are slaves to sin and not free.

I think that’s a valid argument, but no doubt there is one at least fallacious thing about it, since there are approx 13234 logical fallacies. :laughing:

I like your syllogism, Dave, though I have NO idea whether or not it’s likely to be valid. Sounds good to me, fwiw. :laughing:

That said, I can’t see the word “syllogism” without automatically READING it as “sillygism.” :confused:

Sillygism - LOVE that!! :laughing:

Well, it is valid as to form. And the premises are true, aren’t they?
The more I think about it, the better I like it!! It does have the drawback of being succinct, though :laughing:

Succinctness is great virtue, Grasshopper! :laughing: :mrgreen:

Seems correct to me, Dave. I guess, though, even a slave is likely free in some ways: they are free to stop lying to themselves that they are free and start acknowledging their slavery, to stop justifying the slavemaster (their Self enthroned) and keeping an eye open for rebelling and escaping with assistance (the Son).

A political analogy – I might still be enslaved by an authoritarian government that steals, kidnaps and murders; but I am free to stop going along in my mind with the status quo bias or the ‘social proof’ or the Stockholm syndrome which might have been deluding me to call this ‘freedom’ or ‘patriotic duty’. I might not be able to be free from the tyranny yet, but my mind is now free to search for a way out, to true Liberty.

Wow, a lot of posts have appeared today! I have tried to summarize part of our discussion so far and will post the summary tomorrow after letting it sit for 24 hours before final editing. What I found particularly challenging was that I wanted it to be brief enough to digest with reasonable ease–as Cindy notes concerning Dave’s valid syllogism, “Succinctness is a great virtue”–but any degree of succinctness required omitting a lot of important material. Accordingly, whether some comment is included in (or omitted from) my summary has nothing to do with its intrinsic merit and everything to do with the direction that I foresee my own future contributions taking.

I also noticed that James Goetz has made his first contribution to our discussion, and his two comments seem to me as important as they are indeed succinct. He wrote:

I agree wholeheartedly with both of these comments, Jim, and I suspect that you will likewise agree with the following comment lifted from the second edition of ILG:

I also agree with your point about an arbitrary deadline. If an eternal fate need not be sealed at the age of 25 or at the age of 50, why should it be sealed at the moment of physical death? No one, so far as I know, has ever provided a persuasive answer, either philosophical or biblical, to that question.

Welcome to the discussion. And a warm welcome to Micah as well.

-Tom

Good points, Micah. :smiley:

Still, if the position of LFW is that people are ‘free’ to reject God forever, I might trot out the sillygism anyway to show that, in fact, said people are not free, and I might go a step further to point to the necessity of God’s intervention to emancipate them.
As you point out, they may be ‘free’ in certain ways, but as to accepting God, they are not - they are slaves to the sin of unbelief.

Does that make sense?

Just to be clear - I was not taking a jab at those who are able to clearly express their ideas in an extended manner - in fact I quite admire that ability. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten out of the habit of writing well; I need to brush up on the craft.


A BRIEF SUMMARY OF OUR DISCUSSION SO FAR

We began this discussion by noting that Arminians and other free will theists typically suppose that, if we are genuinely free in relation to God, then the following rejection hypothesis (RH) is at least possibly true:

(RH) Some persons will, despite God’s best efforts to save them, freely and irrevocably reject God and thus separate themselves from him forever.

And we initially raised two questions in relation to that hypothesis: First, just what is the relevant concept of freedom that Arminians and other free will theists typically have in mind? And second, why should anyone think it follows that, if we have such freedom, (RH) is at least possibly true?

With respect to the first of these questions, Bob Wilson and Chrisguy both pointed out that Arminians tend to equate moral freedom with a power of contrary choice; that is, a person acts freely in a given set of circumstances only if the person could have done otherwise in those exact same circumstances. And several posters here, including Paidion, indicated their sympathy with such an idea. But Johnny Parker added the crucial point that the relevant freedom must surely be incompatible with God’s causing, controlling, or otherwise determining a supposedly free action.

We then asked whether the relevant kind of freedom–the kind that moral responsibility presupposes–also requires something more, namely, a minimal degree of rationality. If it does, as most here seemed to agree it does, then that takes us to the second of our two questions above: Why suppose it even possible that someone who is rational enough to qualify as a free moral agent would make a choice, or a set of choices, of the kind that (RH) describes? The Augustinian idea that God subjects the damned to punishment against their will at least makes coherent sense. But if, as C. S. Lewis insisted, union with the divine “Nature is bliss and separation from it [an objective] horror,” then how could the damned both (a) remain rational enough to choose freely and (b) knowingly choose eternal misery for themselves? Or, to put the question in a slightly different way: How could the damned both experience the horror of separation from God (in the outer darkness, for example) and continue to regard this as a desirable state? The idea that the damned freely choose horror over bliss, hell over heaven, unlike the view that God punishes them against their will, seems to make no coherent sense at all.

At this point we entered into perhaps the most controversial part of our discussion so far. When we reflect upon our ordinary paradigms of free action, such as the loving mother who freely cares for her beloved baby or the honest banker who freely refuses a bribe, it seems as if some of our freest acts occur in a context where doing otherwise would be utterly unthinkable and therefore psychologically impossible. In the immortal words of Johnny Parker, “I love my wife, and wouldn’t dream of hurting her even if my own life depended on it.” And several other comments expressed similar sentiments: Bob3 observed that “the honest banker, the loving mother, have dispositions such that they don’t even perceive that there is a choice. And there certainly is no inner battle going on”; Cindy asked, “WHY would anyone who can soar through the heavens ever choose to wallow in a pig sty? The less inclined my psyche is toward evil, the more free I become to be what I so greatly desire to be – like Jesus”; and Kate suggested that “when God tears down all the barriers of our ignorance, shame, doubt, and sin,” we will have no choice in the end but to “accept the Savior of the World. Following this logic, coming to Christ is both a free choice and an inevitable action for all of humanity.”

As an illustration of Kate’s point, the perfected saints in heaven will presumably have no inclination at all to disobey God. But will they not obey him freely nonetheless? Or what about God himself? Given the logical impossibility of his acting in an unjust or an unloving way, it may seem as if he is the least free of all beings, at least with respect to his most important actions. But should we not instead view him as the freest of all beings? Such examples have led me to conclude that a fully realized freedom does not always require the power of contrary choice and may even be inconsistent with it in some cases. I thus suggested that we distinguish between a correct and an incorrect claim that libertarians have made. The correct claim is this: Neither free will nor moral responsibility nor even rational thought itself could exist in a fully deterministic universe in which every event has a sufficient cause. Most here seem to agree with that, and Chrisguy, Paidion, and others have provided compelling arguments on behalf of the idea that freedom, at least, could not exist in a fully deterministic universe. But the incorrect claim, I believe, is this: We act freely in a given context only when we have the power of contrary choice in that context. I reject this second claim for the very reason that it seems so inconsistent with our ordinary paradigms of free action, with the freedom of perfected saints, and with the freedom of God himself. But others here are more reluctant to reject that second claim.

All of which eventually led me to pose the following question: “Is there a single and unified conception of freedom according to which (a) we freely sin or freely do something morally wrong only when it is psychologically possible to act otherwise and (b) we are nonetheless freest in our relation to God precisely when it is no longer psychologically possible to sin or to do something morally wrong?” I think there is such a conception, and I shall try to explain it, briefly and clearly, in a follow-up post.

-Tom

One concept of freedom not touched upon much but I think possible is: “nothing outside the agent has determined the agent’s acts.”

Also, I’m wondering if anyone is aware of Greg Boyd’s distinction between “might-counterfactuals” and “would-counterfactuals”?

Even though he’s not a universalist, I find this distinction particularly helpful. He states that might-counterfactuals are counterfactuals dependent on libertarian free will which themselves give rise to truths or states of affairs (would-counterfactuals) which are determinate. In other words, what one’s “ultimate destiny” is is a would-counterfactual that is born of freely exercised might-counterfactuals.

My question is, why should we conclude that the final would-counterfactual for ourselves (our ultimate destiny) is such that it includes the possibility of eternal separation? Why can’t all might-counterfactuals lead to would-counterfactuals that include our ultimate happiness? I could well imagine someone who’s last might-counterfactual (libertarianly free choice) experience a would-counterfactual that included a revelatory experience of the outer darkness and his own previous selfishness such that his revulsion of such things and choice for God was not free at all. And such a state would only be possible by might-counterfactuals.

In short, is it logically necessary to conclude that libertarian freedom necessarily gives rise to a compatibilistic state of eternal separation? Could not the would-counterfactual of eternal happiness be the necessary result of every conceivable or all possible might-counterfactuals (i.e. freely made choices)? Admittedly this happiness would be a “different” experience for everyone (Hitler and Ghandi would have totally different heavens), but how does that make it impossible?

Thoughts?

I think it is not valid, because it uses “free” in two different ways. This is the fallacy of equivocation.
A human slave is free to make choices. He can choose even to disobey his master, though the power of the master is a strong inducement to obey. So it is with those who are slaves to sin. There is a strong inducement to sin, but sin in not inevitable. The equivocation is to equate “not free in the sense of being a slave” and “not free in the sense on not possessing the ability to choose.”

Lets’ say that Act S is sinful, and that Person P is addicted to S, id est, he is a slave to S.
Can P refrain from S for one minute? If so, can he refrain for two minutes? If so, is it possible for him to refrain for an hour? How about 5 hours? A day? A week? A month? A year? A lifetime?

It seems to me that if P can refrain from S for some particular period of time, then it is possible for him to refrain from S indefinitely.

However, we know that Jesus died in order that we may possess the enabling grace (Titus 2) to be delivered from sin—to overcome addictions such as S. So with God’s enabling grace, P is much more likely to succeed in refraining from S for a longer period. But without that grace, it is not impossible. As a result of God’s grace, it is easier to refrain from S than it is without it. On the positive side, it is also easier to live righteously with the enabling grace of God, than without it.

.

You could very well be right, Paidion.

What if I phrased it this way :

He that commits sin is a slave to sin
Rejecting God is a sin
Therefore, those that reject God are slaves to sin.

This does not use the term ‘free’, which was a gratuitous addition on my part, to draw attention to the fact that being a slave is not normally a free choice. We might very well love the sin, but not recognize that it is in control, not us. Mark Twain : “I can quit smoking any time I want - I’ve done it a hundred times.” :smiley:

I think it is a scriptural point that He must free us, since in fact we are slaves to another master and must be redeemed by a new Master.

Is a person free to stop rejecting God? Not on their own, imo. But I did not intend the sillygism :slight_smile: as a serious philosophical argument, though as to form I think it’s valid, as given above, with the caveat that all the words used would have to be defined, and that could be an endless exercise.

Tom,

I definitely agree with this. For example, Arminians believe that believers chose their eternal destiny with synergism while as far as I know most Arminians believe that the lost going to hell is not a result of synergism. Likewise, accepting or rejecting God are not equal decisions. I suppose in Calvinism that accepting or rejecting God are equal decisions, but I’m not going to bother more in that direction in this thread.

Concerning the fall of humanity, that has many complicated issues. I’m a theistic evolutionist and know that population genetics studies clearly indicate that the long-term population size of humans never dipped below roughly 10,000 breeding people. This implies that there was no one human couple that was the descendants of all humans, but all humans descended from a few thousand couples.

I appreciate Irenaeus’s view that you cite and need to carefully examine it. But I suspect Irenaeus might not have a consistent view of fallen angels.

If I correctly recall, we might have forum chatted about angels in the past. I understand that some Christians don’t believe that some have fallen.

I also believe that humans originally ruled the earth, actively in a small part of the earth, before abdicating the rulership to Satan who could be an individual or a partnership of fallen archangels.

Well, as I said earlier, this is not my current project while I hope to tackle all of this in the near future. Yes, I am guilty of opening multiple cans of worms while saying that I’ll get back to herd these worms in a future project. :slight_smile:

I think one of the things from Tom’s summary I’m wrestling with is the idea of something being ‘psychologically impossible’, in terms of some of the examples given of a loving mother. Part of this stems from the fact that what appears to be love from the outside can sometimes be an idolatry or corruption of an ideal human love, and who of us is not guilty of subtly treating other people as objects for selfish reasons at times? If Christ is correct that one who calls another a fool has the same heart condition as a murderer, or that one who lusts has the same heart condition as the adulterer, are not all these loving mothers actually very much psychologically able to slip into fallen heart conditions, even if they wouldn’t actually physically kill their child? And although they wouldn’t kill their child, take away food sources for a couple months, and how many of these loving mothers would be perfectly willing to kill other people? Certainly if Black Friday shopping violence is an indication, you would see all kinds of ugliness emerge from people who would seem the most loving under fair-weather.

So somehow our transformation in Christ must strip away the psychological possibility of us sinning in that inner heart condition, even under extreme circumstances? I guess there will be no extreme circumstances then, though?

I think this is an extremely important idea, Chris, and one of the main reasons why the relevant freedom could not exist in a fully deterministic universe. But we also need to make it clear that the absence of sufficient causes external to the agent is merely a necessary condition of the agent’s acting freely, not a sufficient condition. And though we have not yet emphasized your suggestion here–you are right about that–Paidion did allude to it in his 8:38 p.m. post on April 2nd, and in my response I wrote: “I hold, in other words, that neither God nor any set of conditions external to us can causally determine a genuinely free action.”

Unfortunately, I have no rigorous criterion for distinguishing between some condition that is, and one that is not, external to a given agent. But we may safely assume, I take it, that an agent’s own desires, attitudes, beliefs, and judgments are internal (and therefore not external) to the agent, and we may also assume that if a sufficient cause of your doing A should lie either in the distant past before you were born or in eternity itself, then that sufficient cause would be external to you in a relevant sense. So if your own desires, beliefs, and judgments should jointly be causally sufficient for your doing A in a given context, this would not, given just that information, be an instance of freedom removing causation. But if these very desires, beliefs, and judgments should also be the product of sufficient causes that lie in the distant past before you were even born, this would indeed be an instance of freedom removing causation. Accordingly, this idea will be a crucial part of my own account of what I shall call the freedom that pertains to rational agents.

In your next post you also asked:

I am unfamiliar with what Boyd says on this topic, Chris. Also, I’m thinking that, if you want to initiate discussion of this issue here, you might also want to explain the idea of a counterfactual conditional for the sake of those posting here without any formal philosophical training.

But in any event, may I presume that Boyd’s “might counterfactuals” are the same as Hasker’s “counterfactuals of freedom”?–and that his “would-counterfactuals” are such that we mortals can in principle determine their truth value, sometimes with no trouble at all? Assuming that I have libertarian freedom in the matter, an example of the former kind might be something like: “If Tom Talbott had been offered a million dollars yesterday to travel to Mexico and to return with a large cache of heroin to be sold in the U.S., he would have freely accepted the bribe.” I’m also thinking that an example of the latter kind would be something like: “If an EMP from the sun of the size that struck the earth in the mid-1800s had struck the earth yesterday, then our entire electrical grid would have gone down yesterday.”

What utterly baffles me, however, is what it could possibly mean to say that counterfactuals of one type “give rise to” counterfactuals of another type, as if these propositions could stand in some sort of causal relationship with each other. Could you perhaps explain this a bit further?

Thanks,

-Tom

Good point, Dave. Before reading Paidion’s post, I hadn’t even noticed the term “free” in your conclusion–a good warning, I suppose, against reading something too quickly. Anyway, as you are fully aware (but some here may not be), a valid deductive argument will have no information in its conclusion that is not already present in its premises. But that also counts against Paidion’s charge of equivocation. For equivocation would occur only if the term “free” (or some other term) had occurred twice in the argument with a different sense in each of its two occurrences.

Gee, I feel as if I’m in the classroom again! I guess you can take the teacher out of the classroom, but you can’t take the classroom out of the teacher–whatever the h . . . . oops, whatever the heck that might mean.

-Tom

:laughing: :laughing: :laughing:

I very much enjoyed your synopsis, Tom. Thanks! AND it was beautifully succinct. :wink:
And here I am learning all sorts of things about syllogisms whereas before, I only knew about the sort Lewis Carrol came up with --> sillygisms. (I wish I could take the credit for that little gem, Dave!)