{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_37358/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_37358","id":"gutenberg_37358","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37358","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Free will and determinism"],"text":"</pre>\n\n\n\nProduced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, S.D., and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n          DETERMINISM OR FREE-WILL?\n\n\n\n\n          Printed and Published by\n             THE PIONEER PRESS\n         (G. W. FOOTE & CO., LTD.),\n    61 Farringdon Street, London, E.C. 4.\n\n\n\n\n                Determinism\n\n                    OR\n\n                     Free-Will?\n\n                    BY\n\n              CHAPMAN COHEN.\n\n    New Edition. Revised and Enlarged.\n\n                 LONDON:\n            THE PIONEER PRESS,\n       61 FARRINGDON STREET, E.C. 4.\n\n                  1919.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n  CHAPTER                                                   PAGE\n\n     I.--THE QUESTION STATED                                   9\n\n    II.--\"FREEDOM\" AND \"WILL\"                                 23\n\n   III.--CONSCIOUSNESS, DELIBERATION, AND CHOICE              36\n\n    IV.--SOME ALLEGED CONSEQUENCES OF DETERMINISM             50\n\n     V.--PROFESSOR JAMES ON THE \"DILEMMA OF DETERMINISM\"      63\n\n    VI.--THE NATURE AND IMPLICATIONS OF RESPONSIBILITY        76\n\n   VII.--DETERMINISM AND CHARACTER                            92\n\n  VIII.--A PROBLEM IN DETERMINISM                            101\n\n    IX.--ENVIRONMENT                                         117\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE TO NEW EDITION.\n\n\nThe demand for a new edition of _Determinism or Free-Will_ is gratifying\nas affording evidence of the existence of a public, apart from the class\ncatered for by more expensive publications, interested in philosophic\nquestions[1]. It was, indeed, in the conviction that such a public\nexisted that the book was written. Capacity, in spite of a popular\nimpression to the contrary, has no very close relation to cash, nor is\ninterest in philosophic questions indicated solely by the ability to\nspend a half-guinea or guinea on a work that might well have been\npublished at three or four shillings. There exists a fairly large public\nof sufficient capacity and education intelligently to discuss the deeper\naspects of life, but which has neither time nor patience to give to the\nstudy of bulky works that so often leave a subject more obscure at the\nend than it was at the beginning.\n\n    [1] When the Mss. of this work was submitted to a\n    well-known firm of publishers, the reply came in\n    the form of an offer to publish the work provided\n    it could be expanded so as to admit of its\n    publication at 7/6. It would have been quite easy\n    to have done this; the difficulty is to compress,\n    and the less a subject is understood the easier it\n    is to write at length on it. But the offer, though\n    financially tempting, would have defeated the\n    purpose for which the work was written, and so was\n    declined.\n\nNor does there appear any adequate reason why it should be otherwise. A\nsane philosophy must base itself on the common things of life, and must\ndeal with the common experience of all men. The man who cannot find\nmaterial for philosophic study by reflecting on those which are near at\nhand is not likely to achieve success by travelling all over the globe.\nHe will only succeed in presenting to his readers a more elaborately\nacquired and a more expensively gained confusion. Nor is there any\nreason why philosophy should be discussed only in the jargon of the\nschools, except to keep it, like the religious mysteries, the property\nof the initiated few. We all talk philosophy, as we all talk prose, and\ndoubtless many are as surprised as was M. Jourdain, when the fact is\npointed out to them.\n\nSo whatever merit this little work has is chiefly due to the avoidance,\nso far as possible, of a stereotyped phraseology, and to the elimination\nof irrelevant matter that has gathered round the subject. The present\nwriter has long had the conviction that the great need in the discussion\nof ethical and psychological questions is their restatement in the\nsimplest possible terms. The most difficult thing that faces the\nnewcomer to these questions is to find out what they are really all\nabout. Writer follows writer, each apparently more concerned to discuss\nwhat others have said than to deal with a straightforward discussion of\nthe subject itself. Imposing as this method may be, it is fatal to\nenlightenment. For the longer the discussion continues the farther away\nfrom the original question it seems to get. One has heard of \"The\nReligion of Philosophy,\" and its acquisition of obscurity in thought and\nprolixity in language seems to have gone some distance towards earning\nthe title.\n\nBeing neither anxious to parade the extent of my reading, nor greatly\noverawed by the large number of eminent men who have written on the\nsubject, I decided that what was needed was a plain statement of the\nproblem itself. My concern, therefore, has been to keep out all that has\nnot a direct bearing on the essential question, and only to deal with\nother writers so far as a discussion of what they say may help to make\nplain the point at issue. If the result does not carry conviction it at\nleast makes clear the ground of disagreement. And that is certainly\nsomething gained.\n\nMoreover, there is a real need for a clearing away of all the verbal\nlumber that has been allowed to gather round subjects concerning which\nintelligent men and women will think even though they may be unable to\nreach reliable or satisfactory conclusions. And I have good grounds for\nbelieving that so far this little work has achieved the purpose for\nwhich it was written. If I may say it without being accused of conceit,\nit has made the subject clear to many who before found it\nincomprehensible. And, really, philosophy would not be so very obscure,\nif it were not for the philosophers. We may not always be able to find\nanswers to our questions, but we ought always to understand what the\nquestions are about. That it is not always the case is largely due to\nthose who mistake obscurity for profundity, and in their haste to rise\nfrom the ground lose altogether their touch with the earth.\n\n    C. C.\n\n\n\n\nDETERMINISM OR FREE-WILL?\n\nI.\n\nTHE QUESTION STATED.\n\n\nAt the tail end of a lengthy series of writers, from Augustine to\nMartineau, and from Spinoza to William James, one might well be excused\nthe assumption that nothing new remains to be said on so well-worn a\ntopic as that of Free-Will. Against this, however, lies the feeling that\nin the case of any subject which continuously absorbs attention some\nservice to the cause of truth is rendered by a re-statement of the\nproblem in contemporary language, with such modifications in terminology\nas may be necessary, and with such illustrations from current positive\nknowledge as may serve to make the issue clear to a new generation. In\nthe course of time new words are created, while old ones change their\nmeanings and implications. This results not only in the terminology of a\nfew generations back taking on the character of a dead language to the\naverage contemporary reader, but may occasion the not unusual spectacle\nof disputants using words with such widely different meanings that even\na clear comprehension of the question at issue becomes impossible.\n\nSo much may be assumed without directly controverting or endorsing\nProfessor Paulsen's opinion that the \"Free-Will problem is one which\narose under certain conditions and has disappeared with the\ndisappearance of those conditions;\" or the opposite opinion of Professor\nWilliam James that there is no other subject on which an inventive\ngenius has a better chance of breaking new ground. If mankind--even\neducated mankind--were composed of individuals whose brains functioned\nwith the accuracy of the most approved text-books of logic, Professor\nPaulsen's opinion would be self-evidently true. Granting that the\nconditions which gave rise to the belief in Free-Will have disappeared,\nthe belief itself should have disappeared likewise. Professor Paulsen's\nown case proves that he is either wrong in thinking that these\nconditions have disappeared, or in assuming that, this being the case,\nthe belief has also died out.\n\nThe truth is that beliefs do not always, or even usually, die with the\nconditions that gave them birth. Society always has on hand a plentiful\nstock of beliefs that are, like so many intellectual vagrants, without\nvisible means of support. Human history would not present the clash and\nconflict of opinion it does were it otherwise. Indeed, if a belief is in\npossession its ejection is the most difficult of all operations.\nPossession is here not merely nine points of the law, it is often all\nthe law that is acknowledged. Beliefs once established acquire an\nindependent vitality of their own, and may defy all destructive efforts\nfor generations. One may, therefore, agree with the first half of\nProfessor Paulsen's statement without endorsing the concluding portion.\nThe problem has not, so far as the generality of civilized mankind is\nconcerned, disappeared. The originating conditions have gone, but the\nbelief remains, and its real nature and value can only be rightly\nestimated by a mental reconstruction of the conditions that gave it\nbirth. As Spencer has reminded us, the pedigree of a belief is as\nimportant as is the pedigree of a horse. We cannot be really certain\nwhether a belief is with us because of its social value, or because of\nsheer unreasoning conservatism, until we know something of its history.\nIn any case we understand better both it and the human nature that gives\nit hospitality by knowing its ancestry. And of this truth no subject\ncould better offer an illustration than the one under discussion.\n\nReserving this point for a moment, let us ask, \"What is the essential\nissue between the believers in Free-Will and the upholders of the\ndoctrine of Determinism?\" One may put the Deterministic position in a\nfew words. Essentially it is a thorough-going application of the\nprinciple of causation to human nature. What Copernicus and Kepler did\nfor the world of astronomy, Determinism aims at doing for the world of\npsychological phenomena. Human nature, it asserts, is part and parcel of\nnature as a whole, and bears to it the same relation that a part does to\nthe whole. When the Determinist refers to the \"Order of Nature\" he\nincludes all, and asserts that an accurate analysis of human nature will\nbe found to exemplify the same principle of causation that is seen to\nobtain elsewhere. True, mental phenomena have laws of their own, as\nchemistry and biology have their own peculiar laws, but these are\nadditional, not contradictory to other natural laws. Any exception to\nthis is apparent, not real. Man's nature, physical, biological,\npsychological, and sociological, is to be studied as we study other\nnatural phenomena, and the closer our study the clearer the recognition\nthat its manifestations are dependent upon processes with which no one\ndreams of associating the conception of \"freedom.\" Determinism asserts\nthat if we knew the quality and inclination of all the forces bearing\nupon human nature, in the same way that we know the forces determining\nthe motions of a planet, then the forecasting of conduct would become a\nmere problem in moral mathematics. That we cannot do this, nor may ever\nbe able to do it, is due to the enormous and ever-changing complexity of\nthe forces that determine conduct. But this ought not to blind us to the\ngeneral truth of the principle involved. To some extent we do forecast\nhuman conduct; that we cannot always do so, or cannot do so completely,\nonly proves weakness or ignorance. The Determinist claims, therefore,\nthat his view of human nature is thoroughly scientific, and that he is\nonly applying here principles that have borne such excellent fruit\nelsewhere; and, finally, that unless this view of human nature be\naccepted the scientific cultivation of character becomes an\nimpossibility.\n\nSo far the Determinist. The believer in Free-Will--for the future it\nwill be briefer and more convenient to use the term \"Volitionist\" or\n\"Indeterminist\"--does not on his part deny the influence on the human\norganism of those forces on which the Determinist lays stress. What he\ndenies is that any of them singly, or all of them collectively, can ever\nfurnish an adequate and exhaustive account of human action. He affirms\nthat after analysis has done its utmost there remains an unexplained\nresiduum beyond the reach of the instruments or the methods of positive\nscience. He denies that conduct--even theoretically--admits of\nexplanation and prediction in the same way that explanation and\nprediction apply to natural phenomena as a whole. It is admitted that\ncircumstances may influence conduct, but only in the way that a cheque\nfor five pounds enables one to become possessed of a certain quantity of\nbullion--provided the cheque is honoured by the bank. So the \"Will\" may\nhonour or respond to certain circumstances or it may not. In other\nwords, the deterministic influence of circumstances is contingent, not\nnecessary. Circumstances determine conduct only when a \"free\" volition\nassents to their operation. So against the proposition that conduct is\nultimately the conditioned expression of one aspect of the cosmic order,\nthere is the counter-proposition that intentional action is the\nunconditioned expression of absolutely free beings, and is what it is\nbecause of the selective action of an undetermined will.\n\nFurther, against all deterministic analysis the Volitionist stubbornly\nopposes the testimony of consciousness, and the necessity for the belief\nin Free-Will as a moral postulate. Thus, even when the deterministic\nanalysis of an action--from its source in some external stimuli, to the\nfinal neural discharge that secures its performance is complete, it is\nstill urged that no possible analysis can override man's conviction of\n\"freedom.\" The existence of this conviction is, of course, indisputable,\nand it forms the bed-rock of all forms of anti-determinism. But the\nscientific or logical value of a conviction, as such, is surely open to\nquestion. Equally strong convictions were once held concerning the\nflatness of the earth's surface, the existence of witches, and a hundred\nand one other matters. Besides, a belief or a conviction is not a basal\nfact in human nature, it is the last stage of a process, and can\ntherefore prove nothing save the fact of its own existence. Human nature\nat any stage of its existence is an evolution from past human nature,\nand many prevalent beliefs are as reminiscent in their character as our\nrudimentary tails are reminiscent of a simian ancestry. I hope later to\nmake it clear that the much talked of testimony of consciousness is\nquite irrelevant to the question at issue; and also that the assumed\nnecessity for the conception of \"freedom\" as a moral postulate is really\ndue to a misconception of both the nature of morality and of voluntary\naction.\n\nUltimately the question, as already indicated, resolves itself into one\nof how far we are justified in applying the principle of causation. The\nDeterminist denies any limit to its theoretical application. The\nVolitionist insists on placing man in a distinct and unique category.\nBut this conception of causation is in itself of the nature of a growth,\nand a study of its development may well throw light on the present\nquestion.\n\nA conception of causation in some form or other could hardly have been\naltogether absent from the most primitive races of mankind. Some\nexperiences are so uniform, so persistent, and so universal that they\nwould inevitably be connected in terms of cause and effect.\nNevertheless, the primitive mind was so dominated by volitional\nconception of nature that a sense of necessary connection between events\ncould only have been of a weak character. Experience may have shown that\ncertain physical phenomena succeeded each other in a certain order, but\nthe belief that these phenomena embodied the action of supernormal\nconscious forces would break in upon that sense of inevitability which\nis the very essence of scientific causation. Modern thought fixes its\nattention upon a given series of events and declines to go further. With\nus the order is inevitable. With primitive man the order, even when\nperceived, is conditional upon the non-interference of assumed\nsupernormal intelligences. Each phenomenon, or each group of phenomena,\nthus possesses to the primitive mind precisely that quality of \"freedom\"\nwhich is now claimed for the human will.\n\nHow difficult is the task of establishing causal connections between\nphysical phenomena the whole history of science bears witness. To\nestablish causal connections between external conditions and subjective\nstates, where the forces are more numerous and immensely more complex in\ntheir combinations, is a task of infinitely greater difficulty. Amongst\nsavages it would never be attempted. Feelings arise without any\ntraceable connection with surrounding conditions, nor does a recurrence\nof the same external circumstances produce exactly the same result. A\ncircumstance that produces anger one day may give rise to laughter on\nanother occasion. Something that produces a striking effect on one\nperson leaves another quite unaffected. Numerous feelings arise in\nconsciousness that have all the superficial signs of being\nself-generated. The phenomena are too diverse in character, and the\nconnections too complex and obscure, for uninstructed man to reach a\ndeterministic conclusion. The conclusion is inevitable; man himself is\nthe absolute cause of his own actions; he is veritably master of his own\nfate, subject only to the malign and magical influence of other\nextra-human personalities.\n\nPrimitive thinking about man is thus quite in line with primitive\nthinking about other things. In a way man's earliest philosophy of\nthings is more coherent and more rigorously logical than that of modern\ntimes. The same principle is applied all round. All force is conceived\nas vital force; \"souls\" or \"wills\" govern all. The division between\nanimate and inanimate things is of the vaguest possible character; that\nbetween man and animals can hardly be said to exist. Only very gradually\ndo the distinctions between animate and inanimate, voluntary and\ninvoluntary actions, which are taken for granted by the modern mind,\narise. And it is easy to conceive that in the growth of these\ndistinctions, modes of thinking characteristic of primitive man, would\nlinger longest in the always obscure field of psychology. Broadly,\nhowever, the growth of knowledge has consisted, as Huxley pointed out,\nin the substitution of a mechanical for a volitional interpretation of\nthings. In one department after another purposeful action yields to\ninevitable causation. In physics, chemistry, geology, astronomy, and\nkindred sciences this process is now complete. The volitional\ninterpretation still betrays a feeble vitality in biology; but even here\nthe signs of an early demise are unmistakable. Its last stronghold is in\npsychology, and this because it is at once the newest of the sciences to\nbe placed upon a positive basis, and also the most obscure in its\nramifications. Yet there can be no reasonable doubt that the same\nprinciple which has been found to hold good in other directions will\nsooner or later be shown to obtain here also. Science is by its very\nnature progressive; and its progress is manifested by the degree to\nwhich phenomena hitherto unrelated are brought under constantly\nenlarging and more comprehensive generalisations. Men were once\nsatisfied to explain the \"wetness\" of water as due to a spirit of\n\"aquosity,\" the movement of the blood as due to a \"certain spirit\"\ndwelling in the veins and arteries. These were not statements of\nknowledge, but verbose confessions of ignorance. To this same class of\nbelief belongs the \"Free-Will\" of the anti-determinist. It is the living\nrepresentative of that immense family of souls and spirits with which\nearly animistic thought peopled the universe. The surviving member of a\nonce numerous family, it carries with it the promise of the same fate\nthat has already overtaken its predecessors.\n\nThe origin of the belief in free-will once understood, the reasons for\nits perpetuation are not difficult to discover. First comes the\nobscurity of the processes underlying human action. This alone would\nsecure a certain vitality for a belief that has always made the\nimpossibility of explaining the origin, sequence, and relation of mental\nstates its principal defence. Beyond offering as evidence the\nquestionable affirmation of consciousness volitionists have been\nunanimous in resting their case upon their adversary's want of\nknowledge. And it is further characteristic that while holding to a\ntheory on behalf of which not a single shred of positive evidence has\never been produced, they yet demand the most rigorous and the most\ncomplete demonstration of determinism before they will accept it as\ntrue; this despite the presumptive evidence in its favour arising from\nthe fact of its harmony with our knowledge in other directions.\n\nSecondly, the human mind does not at any time commence its philosophic\nspeculations _de novo_. It necessarily builds upon the materials\naccumulated by previous generations; and usually retains the form in\nwhich previous thinking has been cast, even when the contents undergo\nmarked modifications. Thus the ghost-soul of the savage, a veritable\nmaterial copy of the body, by centuries of philosophizing gets refined\ninto the distinct \"spiritual\" substance of the metaphysician. And this,\nnot because the notion of a \"soul\" was derived from current knowledge or\nthinking, but because it was one of the inherited forms of thought to\nwhich philosophy had to accommodate itself. The result of this pressure\nof the past upon contemporary thinking is that a large proportion of\nmental activity is in each generation devoted to reconciling past\ntheories of things with current knowledge. In our own time the number\nof volumes written to reconcile the theory of evolution with already\nexisting religious views is a striking example of this phenomenon. And\nbeyond the philosophic few there lies the mass of the people with whom\nan established opinion of any kind takes on something of a sacred\ncharacter. Unfortunately, too, many writers work with an eye to the\nprejudices of this class, which prejudices are in turn strengthened by\nthe tacit support of men of ability, or at least by their not openly\ncontroverting them. It is, however, of the greatest significance that\nsince the opening of the modern scientific period, wherever qualified\nthinkers have deliberately based their conclusions upon contemporary\nknowledge the theory of determinism has been generally upheld.\n\nA third cause of the persistence of the belief in \"Free-Will\" is its\nassociation with theology. For at least four centuries, whenever the\ndiscussion of the subject has assumed an acute form, it has been due to\ntheological requirements rather than to ethical or psychological\nconsiderations. True, many other reasons have been advanced, but these\nhave been little more than cloaks for the theological interest. Apart\nfrom theology there does not seem any valid reason why the principle of\ndeterminism should rouse more opposition in connection with human\ncharacter than it does in connection with the course of physical nature.\nOr if it be pointed out that the establishment of the principle of\nuniversal causation, as applied to nature at large, was not established\nwithout opposition, then the reply is that here again it was the\nreligious interest that dictated the opposition. It was felt that the\nreduction of all physical phenomena to a mechanical sequence was\nderogatory to the majesty of God, excluded the deity from his own\nuniverse, and generally weakened the force of religious beliefs. And, as\na mere matter of historic fact, the establishment of the scientific\nconception of nature did have, with the bulk of mankind, precisely the\nconsequences predicted. And when in the course of events theological\nconsiderations were banished from one department of science after\nanother, it was only natural that theologians should fight with the\ngreater tenacity to maintain a footing in the region of human nature.\n\nAlthough the subject is in origin pre-Christian, it was in connection\nwith Christian theology that it assumed an important place in European\nthinking. The development of monotheism gave the problem a sharper point\nand a deeper meaning. The issue here was a simple one. Given the belief\nin God as sole creator and governor of the world, and he may conceivably\nbe related to mankind in one of two ways. Either he induces man to carry\nout his will by an appeal to human reason and emotion, or he has so\narranged matters that certain events will inevitably come to pass at a\ncertain time, human effort being one of the contributory agencies to\nthat end. The first supposition leaves man \"free\"--at least in his\nrelation to deity. The second leads straight to the Christian doctrine\nof predestination. Either supposition has, from the theological point of\nview, its disadvantages. The first leaves man free as against God, but\nit limits the power of deity by creating an autonomous force that may\nact contrary to the divine will. The second opens up the question of\nthe divine wisdom and goodness, and by making God responsible for evil\nconflicts with the demands of the moral sense. Evil and goodness are\nmade parts of the divine plan, and as man must fit in with the general\npre-arranged scheme, personal merit and demerit disappear. These\nconsiderations explain why in the course of the Free-Will controversy\nofficial Christianity has ranged itself now on one side and now on the\nother. It has championed Determinism or Indeterminism as the occasion\nserved its interest. To-day, owing to easily discoverable reasons,\nChristian writers are, in the main, markedly anti-deterministic.\n\nThe first clear statement of the Christian position, if we omit the\nPauline teaching that we are all as clay in the hands of the potter,\nappears in the writings of Augustine. In opposition to the Pelagians,\nAugustine maintained a doctrine of absolute predestination. No room was\nallowed for human self-determination to anyone but the first man. Adam\nwas created and endowed with free-will, and chose evil--a curious\nverification of Voltaire's definition of Free-Will as a capacity by\nmeans of which man gets himself damned. And as in Adam there were\ncontained, potentially, all future generations, all are pre-destined to\neternal damnation except such as are saved through the free gift of\ndivine grace. This theory of Augustine's, carried to the point of\nasserting the damnation of infants, was modified in several respects by\nthat great medieval Christian teacher, Thomas Aquinas, who held that\nwhile the will might be \"free\" from external restraint, it was\ndetermined by our reason, but was reinstated in full force by John\nCalvin. He denied that the goodness or badness of man had anything\nwhatever to do with the bestowal or withholding of grace. God dooms men\neither to heaven or hell, for no other reason than that he chooses to do\nso. Most of the leading Protestants of the early Reformation period were\nstrongly opposed to \"free-will.\" For instance, Zwingli asserted that God\nwas the \"author, mover, and impeller to sin.\" Still more emphatic was\nLuther. The will of man he compared to a horse, \"If mounted by God it\nwills and wends whithersoever God may will; if mounted by Satan it wills\nand wends whithersoever Satan may will; neither hath it any liberty of\nchoice to which of the riders it shall run, or which it shall choose;\nbut the riders themselves contend for its acquisition and possession.\"\nAmong the most powerful essays ever written in defence of Determinism\nwas Jonathan Edwards's, the famous Protestant divine, \"Inquiry into the\nModern Prevailing Notions respecting that Freedom of Will which is\nsupposed to be essential to moral agency, virtue and vice, reward and\npunishment, praise and blame,\" and to which I shall have occasion to\nrefer later. Finally, the explicit declarations of the Westminster\nConfession of Faith and the Articles of the Church of England, that\nman's will,--in the absence of grace,--cannot accomplish good works,\nthrow a curious light on the theological opponents of Determinism who\ndenounce it as anti-Christian and immoral.\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\n\"FREEDOM\" AND \"WILL.\"\n\n\nTo David Hume the dispute between the advocates of \"Free-Will\" and the\nadvocates of \"Necessity\" was almost entirely a matter of words. The\nessence of the question, he thought, both sides were agreed on, and\nconsequently expressed the opinion that \"a few intelligible definitions\nwould immediately have put an end to the whole controversy.\" That Hume\nwas over sanguine is shown by the controversy being still with us. Yet\nhis recommendation as to intelligible definitions, while pertinent to\nall controversy, is specially so with regard to such a subject as that\nof \"Free-Will.\" For much of the anti-Determinist case actually rests\nupon giving a misleading significance to certain phrases, while applying\nothers in a direction where they have no legitimate application.\nConsider, for instance, the controversial significance of such a phrase\nas \"Liberty _versus_ Necessity\"--the older name for Determinism. We all\nlove liberty, we all resent compulsion, and, as Mill pointed out, he who\nannounces himself as a champion of Liberty has gained the sympathies of\nhis hearers before he has commenced to argue his case. Such words play\nthe same part that \"catchy\" election cries do in securing votes. Such\nphrases as \"Power of Choice,\" \"Sense of Responsibility,\" \"Testimony of\nConsciousness,\" \"Consciousness of Freedom,\" are all expressions that,\nwhile helpful and legitimate when used with due care and understanding,\nas usually employed serve only to confuse the issue and prevent\ncomprehension.\n\nNot that the dispute between the Volitionist and the Determinist is a\nmerely verbal one. The controversy carries with it a significance of the\ndeepest kind. Fundamentally the issue expresses the antagonism of two\nculture stages, an antagonism which finds expression in many other\ndirections. We are in fact concerned with what Tylor well calls the\ndeepest of all distinctions in human thought, the distinction that\nseparates Animism from Materialism. Much as philosophic ingenuity may do\nin the way of inventing defences against the application of the\nprinciple of causation to human action, the deeper our analysis of the\ncontroversy, the more clearly is it seen that we are dealing with an\nattenuated form of that primitive animism which once characterised all\nhuman thinking. The persistence of types is a phenomenon that occurs as\nfrequently in the world of mind as it does in the world of biology. Or\njust as when a country is overrun by a superior civilisation, primitive\ncustoms are found lingering in remote districts, so unscientific modes\nof thinking linger in relation to the more obscure mental processes in\nspite of the conquests of science in other directions.\n\nIt is well to bear these considerations in mind, even while admitting\nthat a great deal of the dispute does turn upon the fitness of the\nlanguage employed, and the accuracy with which it is used. And if\nintelligible definition may not, as Hume hoped, end the controversy, it\nwill at least have the merit of making the issue plain.\n\nWhat is it that people have in their minds when they speak of the\n\"Freedom of the Will\"? Curiously enough, the advocates of \"free-will\"\nseldom condescend to favour us with anything so commonplace as a\ndefinition, or if they do it tells us little. We are consequently\ncompelled to dig out the meanings of their cardinal terms from the\narguments used. Now the whole of the argument for \"free-will\" makes the\nword \"free\" or \"freedom\" the equivalent to _an absence of determining\nconditions_; either this, or the case for \"free-will\" is surrendered.\nFor if a man's decisions are in any way influenced--\"influenced\" is here\nonly another word for \"determined\"--Determinism is admitted. I need not\nargue whether decisions are wholly or partly determined, the real and\nonly question being whether they are determined at all. What is called\nby some a limited free-will is really only another name for unlimited\nnonsense.\n\n\"Freedom,\" as used by the Volitionist, being an equivalent for \"absence\nof determining conditions,\" let us ask next what this means. Here I am\nbrought to a dead halt. I do not know what it means. I cannot even\nconceive it as meaning anything at all. At any rate, I am quite certain\nthat it is outside the region of scientific thought and nomenclature.\nScientifically, atoms of matter are not _free_ to move in any direction,\nthe planets are not _free_ to move in any shaped orbit, the blood is not\n_free_ to circulate, the muscles are not _free_ to contract, the brain\nis not _free_ to function. In all these cases what takes place is the\nresult of all converging circumstances and conditions. Given these and\nthe result follows. Scientifically, the thing that occurs is the only\nthing possible. If the word \"free\" is used in science, it is as a figure\nof speech, as when one speaks of a free gas, or of the blood not being\nfree to circulate owing to the existence of a constricted artery. But in\neither case all that is meant is that a change in the nature of the\nconditions gives rise to a corresponding change of result. The\ndetermination of the gas or the blood to behave in a definite way is as\ngreat in any case. From the point of view of science, then, to speak of\nan absence of determining conditions is the most complete nonsense. All\nscience is a search for the conditions that determine phenomena. Save as\na metaphor, \"freedom\" has no place whatever in positive science.\n\nAre we then to discard the use of such a word as \"freedom\" altogether?\nBy no means. Properly applied, the word is intelligible and useful\nenough. When, for instance, we speak of a free man, a free state, a free\ncountry, or free trade, we are using the word \"free\" in a legitimate\nmanner, and can give to it a precise significance. A free state is one\nin which the people composing it pursue their way uncoerced by other\nstates. A free man is one who is at liberty to exert bodily action or\nexpress his opinions. We do not mean that in the first instance the\npeople are not governed by laws, or that physical conditions are without\ninfluence on them; nor do we mean, in the second instance, that the\nactions and opinions of the free man are not the result of heredity,\nbodily structure, education, social position, etc. The obvious meaning\nof \"freedom\" in each of these cases is an absence of external and\nnon-essential coercion. It does not touch the question of why we act as\nwe do, or of why we please to act in this or that manner. As Jonathan\nEdwards puts it: \"The plain, obvious meaning of the words 'freedom' and\n'liberty' is power and opportunity, or advantage that any one has to do\nas he pleases.\" Or as Hume put it more elaborately:--\n\n    \"What is meant by liberty when applied to voluntary actions? We\n    cannot surely mean that actions have so little connection with\n    motives, inclinations, and circumstances that one does not\n    follow with a certain degree of uniformity from the other. For\n    these are plain and acknowledged matters of fact. By liberty,\n    then, we can only mean a power of acting or not acting,\n    according to the determination of the will--that is, if we\n    choose to remain at rest we may; and if we choose to move, we\n    also may.\"\n\nThe ultimate significance of \"liberty\" or \"freedom\" is thus\nsociological. Here it expresses a fact; in positive science it is a mere\nmetaphor, and, as experience shows, a misleading one. Its use in\nphilosophy dates from the time of the Greeks, and when they spoke of a\nfree man they were borrowing an illustration from their social life.\nThere were slaves and there were free men, and in speaking of a free man\npeople were not so likely as they were at a later date to be misled by\na metaphor. Unfortunately, its use in philosophy has continued, while\nits limitations have been ignored. To ask if a man is free is an\nintelligible question. To ask whether actions are free from the\ndetermining associations of organization and environment admits of but\none intelligible reply. Personally, I agree with Professor Bain that the\nterm \"is brought in by main force, into a phenomenon to which it is\naltogether incommensurable,\" and it would be well if it could be\nexcluded altogether from serious discussion[2].\n\n    [2] \"The subjective sense of freedom, sometimes\n    alleged against Determinism, has no bearing on the\n    question whatever. The view that it has a bearing\n    rests upon the belief that causes compel their\n    effects, or that nature enforces obedience to its\n    laws as governments do. These are mere\n    anthropomorphic superstitions, due to assimilation\n    of causes with volitions, and of natural laws with\n    human edicts. We feel that our will is not\n    compelled, but that only means that it is not\n    other than we choose it to be. It is one of the\n    demerits of the traditional theory of causality\n    that it has created an artificial opposition\n    between determinism and the freedom of which we\n    are introspectively conscious.\" (Bertrand Russell,\n    _Mysticism and Logic_, p. 206.)\n\n    So also Wundt: \"Freedom and constraint are\n    reciprocal concepts; they are both necessarily\n    connected with consciousness; outside of\n    consciousness they are both imaginary concepts,\n    which only a mythologising imagination could relate\n    to things.\" (_Human and Animal Psychology_, p.\n    426.)\n\nNow let us take that equally confusing word \"will.\" Unfortunately, few\nof those who champion the freedom of the will think it worth while to\ntrouble their readers with a clear definition of what they mean by it.\nThe orthodox definition of the will as \"a faculty of the soul\" tells us\nnothing. It is explaining something the existence of which is\nquestioned by reference to something else the existence of which is\nunknown. Or the definition is volunteered, \"Will is the power to\ndecide,\" a description which only tells us that to will is to will.\nProfessor James tells us that \"Desire, wish, will, are states of mind\nwhich every one knows, and which no definition can make plainer.\" This\nmay be true of desire and wish; it certainly is not true of \"will.\"\nThere is no question as to \"will\" being a state of mind, but as to every\none knowing its character, and above all possessing the knowledge\nenabling him to discriminate between \"will\" and \"desire\" and \"wish,\"\nthis is highly questionable. One may also be permitted the opinion that\nif advocates of \"free-will\" were to seriously set themselves the task of\ndiscovering what they do mean by \"will,\" and also in what way it may be\ndifferentiated from other mental states, the number of the champions of\nthat curious doctrine would rapidly diminish.\n\nWhat is it that constitutes an act of volition, or supplies us with the\nfact of will? The larger part of our bodily movements do not come under\nthe heading of volition at all. The primary bodily movements are reflex,\ninstinctive, emotional, the action following without any interposition\nof consciousness. Of course, an action that is performed quite\nautomatically at one time may be voluntarily performed at another time.\nI may close my eyelid deliberately, or it may be because of the approach\nof some foreign object. Or an action, if it be performed frequently,\ntends to become automatic. To come within the category of a voluntary\naction, it must be performed consciously, and there is also present\nsome consciousness of an end to be realized. Every voluntary action is\nthus really dependent upon memory. A newly-born child has no volitions,\nonly reflexes. It is only when experience has supplied us with an idea\nof what _may_ be done that we _will_ it shall be done. This\nconsideration alone is enough to shatter the case for the supposed\nfreedom of the will.[3]\n\n    [3] The essential issue is again confused by the\n    language employed. If all volitional action is\n    action performed with the view to an end, a quite\n    correct and completely adequate word would be\n    \"intentional\"! If we were to speak of an\n    \"intentional\" action instead of a voluntary one,\n    the nature of the act would be clear, the factors\n    of experience, memory, consciousness of an end,\n    would be indicated, and the misleading\n    associations of \"willing\" avoided. It is\n    difficult, however, to introduce a new\n    terminology, and so I must beg the reader, in the\n    interests of clarity, to bear in mind that\n    whenever \"voluntary action\" is referred to, it is\n    \"intentional\" action that is connoted by the\n    phrase.\n\nIf we analyze any simple act of volition what has just been said will be\nmade quite clear. I am sitting in a room and _will_ to open a window; it\nmay be to get fresh air, to look out, or for some other reason. Assume\nthat the first is the correct reason, the room being close and \"stuffy.\"\nFirst of all, then, I become aware of a more or less unpleasant feeling;\nmy experience tells me this is because the air in the room needs\npurifying. Experience also tells me that by opening a window the desired\nresult will be obtained. Finally, I open the window and experience a\nfeeling of relief and satisfaction. Now had the room been without a\nwindow, and the door bolted from the outside, or had the window been too\nheavy for me to raise, no \"volition\" would have arisen. I should still\nhave had the desire for fresh air, but not seeing any means by which\nthis could be obtained, I should have had no _motive_ for action, and\nshould have remained perfectly passive. In order that my desire may\noperate as a motive there must be not only a consciousness of a need,\nbut also a mental representation of the means by which that need is to\nbe gratified. I _will_ to do a thing, when allied to the desire for that\nthing there is a conception of _how_ it is to be done, of the means to\nbe employed. Without this I have no motive, only a desire; without a\nconsciousness of the nature of the desire, there is nothing but pure\nfeeling. \"Willing terminates with the prevalence of the idea....\"\n\"Attention with effort is all that any case of volition implies.\" (Prof.\nW. James, _Princip. of Psychology_, II. 560-1.)\n\nThe stages of the process are, feeling rising into consciousness as\ndesire, the perception of the means to realize an end which raises the\ndesire from the statical to the dynamic stage of motive, and finally a\nvoluntary or intentional action. Now at no stage of this process is\nthere room for the intervention of any power or faculty not expressed in\na strictly sequential process. Of course, the action I have taken as an\nexample is an exceedingly simple one, but the more complex actions only\noffer greater difficulties of analysis without leading to any different\nresult. This will be seen more clearly when we come to deal with\n\"choice\" and \"deliberation.\" From the moment that a certain stimulus\ncreates a desire in an organism, to the time that desire expresses\nitself in action, there is no gap in the chain through which a\n\"Free-Will\" may manifest its being. The physiologist points out that at\nthe basis of all our feelings and ideas there lie certain neural\nprocesses. The psychologist takes up the story and from the dawn of\ndesire to action finds no break--or at least none that future knowledge\nmay not reasonably hope to make good. Want of knowledge may at present\nprevent our tracing all the details of the process, but this is surely a\nvery inadequate ground on which to affirm the existence of a power at\nvariance with our knowledge of nature in other directions.[4]\n\n    [4] Whether we work backward or forward the result\n    is the same. Strip off from the mind all feelings,\n    desires, all consciousness of ends and means to\n    ends, and what there is left is not a \"will\" ready\n    to throw the weight of its preference in this or\n    that direction, but a complete blank.\n\nNow in thus tracing the course of a voluntary action are we doing any\nmore than observing the action of desire in consciousness? If, yes, the\nwriter is quite unaware of the fact. If I remove all feeling, all\ndesire, all motive, \"the will\" disappears. Excite feeling, generate\ndesire, and there is the occasion for a voluntary action. Multiply the\nnumber of desires and the operation of \"will\" becomes evident. Thus when\na writer like Professor Hyslop says, \"If two motives offer different\nattractions to the will,\" the reply is that the \"will\" is not one thing,\nand motives other things, but two aspects of one fact. The \"will\" is not\nsomething that decides or chooses between motives; the \"will\" is nothing\nmore than the name given to that motive or cluster of motives which is\nsufficiently strong to overcome resistance and to express itself in\naction. I emphasize the expression \"overcome resistance\" because without\ncompeting motives and a sense of resistance we have no clear\nconsciousness of volition. Where only one desire is present in\nconsciousness, or where it is of overwhelming strength, feeling is\nsucceeded by action without any recognizable hiatus. It is the sense of\nconflict, the break, that is essential to creating a lively sense of\nvolition, and also, as shall see later, to the sense of choice and\ndeliberation. But in speaking of an action as the expression of motives,\nor as an expression of \"will,\" both statements are identical so far as\nthe fact is concerned. We have not desires, motives, and \"will,\" there\nis simply a desire or desires that assume the quality of a motive by\nbeing strong enough to result in action. As Spencer has put it, \"Will is\nno more an existence apart from the predominant feeling than a king is\nan existence apart from the man occupying the throne.\"\n\nAll that is to be found in any act of \"will\" is a desire accompanied by\nthe consciousness of an end. To put the same thing in another way, we\nhave a desire, the consciousness of an end and the means of realizing\nit, and, finally, action. To the physiological and psychological\nprocesses that culminate in action we give the name of motive. Properly\nspeaking a motive that does not issue in action--or inhibition--is not a\nmotive at all, it is a mere desire. And apart from the presence of\ndesire, or of desires, \"will\" does not exist. It is a pure abstraction,\nvaluable enough as an abstraction, but having no more real existence\napart from particular motives, than \"tree\" is a real existence apart\nfrom particular trees. Physiologically, says Dr. Maudsley:--\n\n    \"We cannot choose but reject _the_ will.... As physiologists we\n    have to deal with volition as a function of the supreme centres,\n    following reflection, varying in quantity and quality as its\n    cause varies, strengthened by education and exercise, enfeebled\n    by disuse, decaying with decay of structure.... We have to deal\n    with will not as a single undecomposable faculty unaffected by\n    bodily conditions, but as a result of organic changes in the\n    supreme centres, affected as certainly and as seriously by\n    disorders of them as our motor faculties are by disorders of\n    their centres.\"\n\nAnd, says Professor Sully, referring to _the_ will:--\n\n    \"Modern scientific psychology knows nothing of such an entity.\n    As a science of phenomena and their laws, it confines itself to\n    a consideration of the processes of volition, and wholly\n    discards the hypothesis of a substantial will as unnecessary and\n    unscientific.\"\n\nNeither physiology nor psychology, neither a sane science nor a sound\nphilosophy, knows anything of, or can find use for, an autonomous\n\"will.\" \"Will\" as the final term of a discoverable series may be\nadmitted; \"will\" as a self-directing force, deciding whether particular\ndesires shall or shall not prevail, answers to nothing conformable to\nour knowledge of man, and is plainly but the ghost of the wills and\nsouls of our savage ancestors. If instead of speaking of the freedom of\nthe will, we spoke of uncaused volitions, the position of the\nvolitionist would be clear, and its indefensible character plain to all.\nBut by giving the abstraction \"will\" a concrete existence, and by taking\nfrom sociology a word such as \"freedom\" and using it in a sphere in\nwhich it has no legitimate application, the issue is confused, and a\nscientifically absurd theory given an air of plausibility. The dispute\nbetween the Determinist and the Indeterminist is certainly not one of\nwords only, but it is one in which the cardinal terms employed need the\nmost careful examination if we are to clear away from the subject the\nverbal fog created by theologians and metaphysicians.\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nCONSCIOUSNESS, DELIBERATION, AND CHOICE.\n\n\nThe one argument used by the Indeterminist against the Deterministic\nposition with some degree of universality is that of the testimony of\nconsciousness. It is the one to which practically all have appealed, and\nwhich all have flattered themselves was simple in nature and convincing\nin character. Professor Sidgwick, although he admitted that this\ntestimony might be illusory, yet asserted \"There is but one opposing\nargument of real force, namely, the immediate affirmation of\nconsciousness in the moment of deliberate action.\" And by the testimony\nof consciousness must be meant, not, of course, a consciousness of\nacting, but that at the moment of acting we could, _under identical\nconditions_, have selected and acted upon an alternative that has been\nrejected. I emphasize the phrase \"under identical conditions,\" because\notherwise nothing is in dispute, and because, as we shall see, this\nimportant consideration has not been always or even frequently borne in\nmind.\n\nThe question is, What does consciousness really tell us, and how far is\nits testimony valid? In some directions it must be admitted that the\ntestimony of consciousness is absolute. In others it cannot, without\nverification, claim any authority whatever. When I say that I have a\nfeeling of heat or coldness, of pleasure or pain, there is here a\ndirect deliverance of consciousness against which there is no appeal.\nBut consciousness does not and cannot tell me why I feel hot or cold, or\nwhat is the cause of a pain I am experiencing. In this last case the\ntestimony of consciousness may be distinctly misleading. As it tells us\nnothing of the existence of a brain, a nervous system, viscera, etc.,\nits testimony as to the cause of pain is obviously of no value. We are\nconscious of states of mind, and that is all. A man seized with sudden\nparalysis may be conscious of his power to move a limb, only to discover\nby experience his impotence. In short, consciousness cannot, indeed does\nnot, tell us the causes of our states of mind. For this information we\nare thrown back upon observation, experiment, and experience. We must,\nthen, make quite sure when we interrogate consciousness, exactly what it\nis that consciousness says, and whether what it says is on a subject\nthat comes within its province.\n\nWhat is, then, the testimony of consciousness? When it is said that we\nare conscious of our ability to have selected one alternative at the\ntime that another is chosen, I think this may be fairly met with the\nretort that consciousness is unable to inform us as to our actual\nability to _do_ anything at all. I may be quite conscious of a desire to\njump a six foot fence, or lift a weight of half a ton, but whether I am\nactually able to do so or not, only experience can decide. What I am\nreally conscious of is a desire to vault a given height or lift a given\nweight, and it is surely an inexcusable confusion to speak of a desire\nto do a particular thing as the equivalent of an ability to do it. If a\nconsciousness of desire equalled the ability to perform failure would be\nbut little known among men.\n\nAll that consciousness really tells us is of the existence of passing\nstates of mind. It can tell us nothing of their origin, their value, or\ntheir consequences. In the particular instance under consideration\nconsciousness informs us of the fact of choice, and this no Determinist\nhas ever dreamed of denying. He does assert that choice, as the\nIndeterminist persists in using the term, is a delusion, but otherwise,\nas will be shown later, he claims that it is only on deterministic lines\nthat choice can have any meaning or ethical significance. In any\nvoluntary action I am conscious of the possibility of choice and of\nhaving chosen, and that is really all. What is the nature of that\npossibility, and why I choose one thing rather than another--on these\npoints consciousness can give us no information whatever. One might as\nreasonably argue that a consciousness of hunger gives us a knowledge of\nthe process of digestion, as argue that a consciousness of choice\nsupplies us with a knowledge of the mechanism of the process. We are\nconscious of the presence of several desires, we are also conscious that\nout of these several desires one is strong enough to rank as a motive,\nbut it tells us absolutely nothing of the causes or conditions that have\nresulted in the emergence of that motive. Instead of telling us that we\ncould have acted in opposition to the strongest motive--which is really\nthe indeterminist position--consciousness simply reveals which desire is\nthe most powerful. We are conscious that other desires were present, we\nare also aware of the possibility that another desire than the one that\nactually prevailed might have been the most powerful; but when we admit\nthis and say that we _could_ have acted differently, we have really\ndisplaced the actual conditions by imaginary ones. We _might_ have\npreferred to act differently. This is not denied. It is not questioned\nthat we do choose, or that the same person chooses, differently or\ndifferent occasions. The question really is, Why have we chosen thus or\nthus? And so far as consciousness is concerned we are quite in the dark\nas to why one choice is made rather than another, what are the\nconditions that give rise to our conscious desires, or why one desire is\nmore powerful than another.\n\nConsciousness, then, can testify only to the reality of its own states;\nno more. It can tell us nothing of their causes. It cannot tell us that\nman has a brain and nervous system, and can tell us nothing of the\nconnection between mental states and the condition of the bodily organs.\nThe chief factor in conduct (habit) lies outside the region of\nconsciousness altogether. In most cases we act as we have been in the\nhabit of acting, and our present conduct expresses the sum of our\nprevious actions and inclinations. Every action we perform assists the\nformation of a habit, and with every repetition of a particular action\nwe find its performance easier. Indeed, a very powerful criticism of the\ntrustworthiness of consciousness is found in the fact that the\ndetermining causes of conduct lie largely in the region of the\nunconscious or subconscious, and of this territory consciousness can\ntell us no more than a ripple on the surface of a river can tell us of\nits depths.\n\nNext to the emphasis upon the testimony of consciousness the\nIndeterminist lays special stress upon the facts of choice and\ndeliberation. Can we really say, it is asked, that man chooses and\ndeliberates, or even that in any genuine sense he does anything at all,\nif all his actions are pre-determined by his constitution and\nenvironment? If every act of man is determined and man himself a mere\nstage in the process unending and unbroken, is it not idle to speak of\nman deliberating on alternatives and choosing that which seems to him\nbest? We continue using words that on deterministic lines have lost all\nmeaning. And if Determinists do not realise this, it is because the\nlogical implications of their doctrines have never been fully explored.\n\nWell, it entirely depends upon the sense in which one uses the cardinal\nterms in the discussion. If deliberation and choice when applied to\nmental processes are used in the same sense as when these terms are used\nas descriptive of the proceedings of a committee, then we can all agree\nthat deliberation would be as great a sham as it would be if the members\nof a committee before meeting had determined upon their decision. But,\nwe may note in passing, that even here, when the deliberations are\ngenuine, the votes of each member are supposed to be decided by the\nreasons advanced during the discussion--that is the decision of each\nindividual member is determined by the forces evoked during the\ndeliberations.\n\nThe scientific method, and it may be added, the sane and profitable\nmethod, is not to come to the study of a problem with ready-made\nmeanings and compel the facts, under penalty of disqualification, to\nagree with them, but to let the facts determine what meaning is to be\nattached to the words used. It is mere childish petulance for the\nIndeterminist to say that unless certain words are used with _his_\nmeaning they shall not be used at all, but shall be expelled from our\nvocabulary. When gravity was conceived as a force moving downward\nthrough infinite space, the existence of people on the other side of the\nearth was denied as being contrary to the law of gravitation. A more\ncorrect knowledge of the phenomena did not lead people to discard\ngravity; the meaning of the word was revised. And really neither\nlanguage nor morality is the private property of the Indeterminist, and\nhe is, therefore, not at liberty to annihilate either for not coming up\nto his expectations. He must submit to such revision of his ideas, or\nhis language, or of both, as more accurate knowledge may demand.\n\nThe question is not, then, whether Determinism destroys deliberation and\nchoice and responsibility, but what meaning Determinism can legitimately\nplace upon these words, and is this meaning in harmony with what we know\nto be true. With responsibility we will deal at length later. For the\npresent let us see what is really involved in the fact of choice.\nDeterminism, we are advised, must deny the reality of choice, because\nchoice assumes alternatives, and there can be no genuine alternatives if\nevents are determined. Let us see. If I am watching a stone rolling down\na hillside, and am in doubt as to whether it will pass to the right or\nto the left of a given point, I shall not recognize any resident\ncapacity in the stone for choosing one path rather than the other. The\nabsence of consciousness in the stone precludes such an assumption. But\nsuppose we substitute for the stone a barefooted human being, and assume\nthat one path is smooth while the other is liberally sprinkled with\nsharp pointed stones. There would then be an obvious reason for the\nselection of one path, and no one would hesitate to say that here was an\nillustration of the exercise of choice. Choice, then, is a phenomenon of\nconsciousness, and it implies a recognition of alternatives. But a\nrecognition of alternatives does not by any means imply that either of\ntwo are equally eligible. It is merely a consciousness of the fact that\nthey exist, and that either might be selected were circumstances\nfavourable to its selection. Without labouring the point we may safely\nsay that all that is given in the fact of choice is the consciousness of\na choice. There is nothing in it that tells us of the conditions of the\nselection, or whether it was possible for the agent to have chosen\ndifferently or not.\n\nSo far there is nothing in Determinism that is discordant with the fact\nof choice, indeed, it has a perfectly reasonable theory of the process.\nWhy is there a choice or selection of things or actions? Clearly the\nreason must be looked for in the nature of the thing selected, or in the\nnature of the agent that selects, or in a combination of both factors.\nEither there is an organic prompting in favour of the thing selected, as\nwhen a baby takes a bottle of milk and rejects a bottle of vinegar, or\nthere is a recognition that the selection will enable the agent to\nbetter realize whatever end he has in view. The alternatives are there,\nand they are real in the only sense in which they can be real. But they\nare not real in the sense of their being equally eligible--which is the\nsense in which the Indeterminist uses the word. For that would destroy\nchoice altogether. Unless a selection is made because certain things\noffer greater attractions than other things to the agent, no\nintelligible meaning can be attached to such a word as \"Choice.\" We\nshould have a mere blind explosion of energy, the direction taken no\nmore involving choice than the stone's path down a hillside. And if the\n\"Will\" chooses between alternatives because one is more desirable than\nthe other, its \"freedom\" (in the Indeterminist sense) is sacrificed, and\nthe selection is correspondingly determined. There can be no real choice\nin the absence of a determinative influence exercised by one of the\nthings chosen.\n\nBut it is urged that this line of reasoning does not explain the feeling\nof possibility that we have at the moment of action. I think it explains\npossibility as it explains choice, provided we allow facts to determine\nthe meaning of words instead of torturing facts to suit certain forms of\nlanguage. If by possibility we mean that under identical conditions,\nother things than those which actually occur are possible, then this may\nbe confidently met with a flat denial. If, on the other hand, it is\nmeant that by varying the conditions other possibilities become\nactualities, this is a statement that to a Determinist is self-evident.\nAs a matter of fact, there are only two senses in which the word\n\"possibility\" may be rightly used, and neither sense yields any evidence\nagainst Determinism.\n\nOne of these meanings is simply an expression of our own ignorance on\nthe matter that happens to be before us. If I am asked what kind of\nweather we are likely to have a month hence, I should reply that it is\nequally possible the day may be dry or wet, bright or dull. I do not\nmean to imply that had I adequate knowledge it would not be as easy to\npredict the kind of weather on that date as it is to predict the\nposition of Neptune. It is simply an expression of my own ignorance.\nBut, as Spinoza pointed out, possibility narrows as knowledge grows. To\ncomplete ignorance anything is possible because the course of events is\nunknown. As a comprehension of natural causation develops, people speak\nless of what may possibly occur, and more of what will occur.\nPossibility here has no reference to the course of events, only to our\nknowledge, or want of knowledge, concerning their order. To say that it\nis possible for a man to do either this or that is, so far as a\nspectator is concerned, only to say that our knowledge concerning the\nman's whole nature is not extensive enough, or exact enough for us to\npredict what he will do. Nor is the case altered if instead of an\noutsider, it is the agent himself who is incapable of prediction. For\nall that amounts to is the assertion that the agent is ignorant of the\nrelative strength of desires that may be aroused under a particular\nconjuncture of circumstances.\n\nThe second sense of \"possibility\" depends upon our ability to imagine\nconditions not actually present at the moment of action. By a trick of\nimagination I can picture myself acting differently, or, on looking\nback, I can see that I might have acted differently. But in either case\nI have altered in thought the conditions that actually existed at the\nmoment of action. Generally, all it means is that with a number of\nconflicting desires present, I am conscious that a very slight variation\nin the relative strength of these desires would result in a different\ncourse of conduct. And the conditions affecting conduct are so complex\nand so easily varied that it is small wonder there is lacking in this\ninstance that sense of inevitability present when one is dealing with\nphysical processes. But the essential question is not whether a slight\nchange of conditions would produce a different result, but whether under\nidentical conditions two opposite courses of action are equally\npossible? And this is not only untrue in fact, it is unthinkable, as a\nformal proposition. Even the old adage, \"There, but for the grace of\nGod, go I,\" while recognizing a different possibility, also recognized\nthat a variation in the factors--the elimination of the grace of God--is\nessential if the possibility was to become an actuality. That the sense\nof possibility implies more than this may be safely denied, let who will\nmake the opposite affirmation.\n\nThis discussion of the nature and function of choice will help us to\nrealize more clearly than would otherwise be the case the nature of\ndeliberation. This question has always played an important part in the\nFree-Will controversy, because it has stood as the very antithesis of a\nreflex or obviously mechanical action. Deliberation, it has been argued,\ndoes very clearly point to a determinative power exercised by the human\nwill, and a power that cannot be explained in the same terms with which\nwe explain other events. One anti-determinist writer remarks that \"if a\nvolition is the effect of a 'motive,' it should follow immediately upon\nthe occurrence of the motive. But if there is deliberation between\nmotives, they do not seem to have casual power to initiate a volition\nuntil a prior causal power directs them, and this would be the\ndeliberating subject.\"\n\nNow there are numerous cases, the majority probably, where action does\nfollow immediately upon the presence of desire. And in such cases we are\nnot aware of any process of deliberation, although there may be a truly\nintentional action. And from this single case we have a whole series of\nexamples that will take us to the other extreme where the desires are so\nnumerous and so conflicting that an excess of deliberation may prevent\naction altogether. Let us take an illustration. Sitting in my room on a\nfine day I am conscious of a desire for a walk. Provided no opposing\nfeeling or desire is present I should at once rise and go out. But I may\nbe conscious of a number of other feelings based upon various\nconsiderations. There is the fact of leaving the task on which I am\nengaged, and the desire to get it finished. There is the trouble of\ndressing, the consideration that once out I may wish I had stayed in, or\nthat it may rain, or that I may be needed at home: all these result in\na state of indecision, and induce deliberation. Imagination is excited,\nideal feelings are aroused, and eventually a choice is made. I decide on\nthe walk. What is it, now, that has occurred? My first desire for a walk\nhas been enforced by a representation of all the advantages that may be\ngained by going out, and these have proved themselves strong enough to\nbear down all opposition. Had any other desire gained strength, or had\nthe conviction that it would rain been strong enough, a different motive\nwould have emerged from this conflict of desires and ideas. No matter\nhow we vary the circumstances, this is substantially what occurs in\nevery case where deliberation and choice are involved. Not only is this\nwhat does occur, but it is impossible to picture clearly any other\nprocess. The only evidence we can have of the relative strength of ideas\nis that one triumphs over others. To say that the weaker desire triumphs\nis to make a statement the absurdity of which is self-evident.\n\nThis conclusion cannot be invalidated by the argument that a particular\ndesire becomes the stronger because the \"will\" declares in its favour.\nOne need only ask, by way of reply, Why does the \"will\" declare in\nfavour of one desire rather than another? There is no dispute that a\nchoice is made. Those who say that a man can choose what he likes are\nnot making a statement that conflicts in the slightest degree with\nDeterminism. The Determinist says as clearly as anyone that I do what I\nchoose to do. The real question is why do I choose this rather than\nthat? Why does the \"will\" pronounce in favour of one desire rather than\nanother? No one can believe that all desires are of equal strength or\nvalue to the agent. Such an assumption would be too absurd for serious\nargument. But if all desires are not of equal strength and value, the\nonly conclusion left is that certain ones operate because they are, in\nrelation to the particular organism, of greater value than others. And\nin that case we are simply restating Determinism. The action of the\nenvironment is conditioned by the nature of the organism. The reaction\nof the organism is conditioned by the character of the environment. The\nresultant is a compound of the two.\n\nIt is, moreover, an absurdity to speak of the \"will\" or the self as\nthough this were something apart from the various phases of\nconsciousness. In the contest of feelings and desires that calls forth\ndeliberation _I_ am equally involved in every aspect of the process. As\nProfessor James points out, \"both effort and resistance are ours, and\nthe identification of our _self_ with one of these factors is an\nillusion and a trick of speech.\" My self and my mental states are not\ntwo distinct things; they constitute myself, and if these are eliminated\nthere is no self left to talk about.\n\nFurther, in the growth of each individual, conscious and deliberative\naction can be seen developing out of automatic action--the simplest and\nearliest type of action. Not only does deliberative action develop from\nreflex action, but it sinks into reflex action again. One of the\ncommonest of experiences is that actions performed at one time slowly\nand after deliberation are at another time performed rapidly and\nautomatically. Every action contributes to the formation of a habit, and\nfrequently repetition results in the habit becoming a personal\ncharacteristic. Deliberation and choice are not even always the mark of\na highly developed character; they may denote a poorly-developed\none--one that is ill adapted to social requirements. One man, on going\ninto a room where there is a purse of money, may only after long\ndeliberation and from conscious choice refrain from stealing it. Another\nperson, under the same conditions, may be conscious of no choice, no\neffort, the desire to steal the purse being one that is foreign to his\nnature. In two such by no means uncommon instances, we should have no\ndoubt as to which represented the higher type of character. Morally, it\nis not the feeling, \"I could have acted dishonestly instead of honestly\nhad I so chosen,\" that marks the ethically developed character, but the\nperformance of the right action at the right moment, without a\nconsciousness of tendency in the opposite direction. But the aim of\neducation is, in the one direction, to weaken the sense of choice by the\nformation of right habits, moral and intellectual; and on the other hand\nby bringing man into a more direct contact with a wider and more complex\nenvironment, deliberation becomes one of the conditions of a\nco-ordination of ideas and actions that will result in a more perfect\nadaptation.\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nSOME ALLEGED CONSEQUENCES OF DETERMINISM.\n\n\nNot the least curious aspect of the Free-Will controversy is that those\nwho oppose Determinism base a large part of their argumentation upon the\nsupposed evil consequences that will follow its acceptance. In a work\nfrom which I have already cited, Mr. F. C. S. Schiller falls foul of\nDeterminism because, he says, while incompatible with morality, its\nchampions nevertheless imagine they are leaving morality undisturbed.\nThe real difficulty of Determinism is, he says, that in its world,\nevents being fully determined, there can be no alternatives. Things are\nwhat they must be. They must be because they are. No man can help doing\nwhat he does. Man himself belongs to a sequence unending and unbroken.\n\"To imagine therefore that Determinism, after annihilating the moral\nagent, remains compatible with morality, simply means that the logical\nimplications of the doctrine have never been fully explored.\" And he\nadds: \"The charge against it is not merely that it fails to do full\njustice to the ethical fact of responsibility, but that it utterly\nannihilates the moral agent.\" This, he says, is the real dilemma, and\nDeterminism has never answered it.\n\nIt is curious that so clever a writer as Mr. Schiller should fail to\nrealize that taking Determinism in its most drastic form, and accepting\nit in the most unequivocal manner, nothing can suffer, because\neverything remains as it must be--including the facts, feelings, and\nconsequences of the moral life. Observe, it is part of Mr. Schiller's\ncase against Determinism that on determinist lines everything, down to\nthe minutest happenings, is the necessary result of all antecedent and\nco-operating conditions. But this being the case, if Determinism leaves\nno room for chance or absolute origination, how comes it that an\nacceptance of Determinism initiates an absolutely new thing--the\ndestruction of morality? Surely it is coming very near the absurd to\ncharge Determinism with breaking an unbreakable sequence. It is surely\nidle to credit Determinism with doing what is impossible for it to\naccomplish. So far as morality is a real thing, so far as the facts of\nthe moral life are real things, Determinism must leave them\nsubstantially unaltered. The problem is, as has been already said, to\nfind out for what exactly all these things stand. To read wrong meanings\ninto the facts of life, and then to declare that the facts cease to\nexist if the meanings are corrected, is unphilosophical petulance.\n\nIt is, indeed, quite open to the Determinist to meet these grave fears\nas to the consequences of Determinism with a denial that morality is\nvitally concerned with the question of whether man's \"will\" be \"free\" or\nnot. The question of Determinism may enter into the subject of how to\ndevelop character along desirable lines; and, apart from Determinism, it\nis difficult to see how there can be anything like a scientific\ncultivation of character. But the fact of morality and the value of\nmorality are not bound up with whether conduct be the expression of\ntheoretically calculable factors, or whether it is, on the one side,\ndetermined by a self which originates its own impulses. Determinism or\nno Determinism, murder, to take an extreme illustration, is never likely\nto become an every-day occupation in human society. Neither can any\nother action that is obviously injurious to the well-being of society be\npractised beyond certain well-defined limits. The laws of social health\noperate to check socially injurious actions, as the laws of individual\nhealth operate to check injurious conduct in dietary or in hygiene.\nDeterminists and Indeterminists, as may easily be observed, manifest a\nfairly uniform measure of conduct, and whatever variations from the\nnormal standard each displays cannot well be put down to their\nacceptance or rejection of Determinism.\n\nThe real nature of morality is best seen if one asks oneself the\nquestion, \"What is morality?\" Let us imagine the human race reduced to a\nsingle individual. What would then be the scope and character of\nmorality? It is without question that a large part of our moral rules\nwould lose all meaning. Theft, murder, unchastity, slander, etc., would\nbe without meanings, for the simple reason that there would be none\nagainst whom such offences could be committed. Would there be any moral\nlaws or moral feelings left? Would there even be a man left under such\nconditions? One might safely query both statements. For if we take away\nfrom this solitary individual all that social culture and intercourse\nhave given him--language, knowledge, habits both mental and moral, all,\nin short, that has been developed through the agency of the social\nmedium--man, as we know him, disappears, and a mere animal is left in\nhis place. Even the feeling that a man has a duty to himself, and that\nto realize his highest possibilities is the most imperative of moral\nobligations, is only an illustration of the same truth. For very little\nanalysis serves to show that even this derives its value from the\nsignificance of the individual to the social structure.\n\nMorality, then, is wholly a question of relationship. Not whether my\nactions spring from a self-determined \"will\" or even whether they are\nthe inevitable consequent of preceding conditions makes them moral or\nimmoral, but their influence in forwarding or retarding certain ideal\nsocial relations. The rightness or wrongness of an action lies in its\nconsequences. Whether one is of the Utilitarian or other school of\nmorals does not substantially affect the truth of this statement. Action\nwithout consequences--assuming its possibility--would have no moral\nsignificance whatever. And consequences remain whether we accept or\nreject Determinism. Determinism cannot alter or regulate the\nconsequences of actions, it can only indicate their causes and their\nresults. What a science of morals is really concerned with is,\nobjectively, the consequences of actions, and subjectively the feelings\nthat lead to their performance. When a science of morals has determined\nwhat actions best promote desirable relations between human beings, and\nwhat states of mind are most favourable to the performance of such\nactions, its task as a science of morals is concluded. The genesis of\nsuch states of mind belongs to psychology, just as to sociology belong\nthe creation and maintenance of such social conditions as will best give\nthem expression and actuality.\n\nThe question of the moral consequences of Determinism is not, therefore,\ndiscussed because we believe there is any relevancy in the issue thus\nraised, but solely because it is raised, and not to deal with it may\ncreate a prejudice against Determinism. Many of those who quite admit\nthe scientific character of Determinism, yet insist on the necessity for\nsome sort of Indeterminism in the region of morals. Professor William\nJames, for instance, admits that a profitable study of mental phenomena\nis impossible unless we postulate Determinism (_Prin. Psych._ ii. 573).\nBut having admitted this, and in fact illustrated it through the whole\nof his two volumes, his next endeavour is to find a place for\n\"free-will\" as a \"moral postulate.\" The region of morals is thus made to\nplay the part of a haven of refuge for illegitimate and unscientific\ntheories, a kind of workhouse for all mental vagrants found at large\nwithout visible means of support. The moral postulate which is to\nreinstate \"Free-Will,\" is that \"What ought to be can be, and that bad\nacts cannot be fated, but that good ones must be possible in their\nplace.\" In a writer usually so clear this somewhat ambiguous deliverance\nis far more indicative of a desire to befriend an oppressed theory than\nof the possession of any good evidence in its behalf.\n\nThe matter really turns upon what is meant by \"ought\" and \"possible.\" It\nhas already been pointed out that if by \"possible\" it is meant that\nalthough one thing actually occurs, another thing--a different\nthing--might have occurred without any alteration in the accompanying\nconditions, the statement is not only untrue in fact, but it is\ninconceivable as possibly true. And if it does not mean this, then\nProfessor James is merely stating what every Determinist most cheerfully\nendorses. But in that case the \"possibility\" gives no support whatever\nto the Indeterminist. Further, Professor James says that Determinism is\na clear and seductive conception so long as one \"stands by the great\nscientific postulate that the world must be one unbroken fact, and that\nprediction of all things without exception must be ideally, even if not\nactually, possible.\" On which one may enquire, how prediction could be\nat all possible unless, given the co-operating conditions, a definite\nand particular result is inevitable? But if prediction be possible--and\nthe whole power of science lies in its power of prediction--what becomes\nof the value of \"possibility\" to the Indeterminist? Is it any more than\nan expression of our ignorance of the power of particular factors, and a\nconsequent ignorance of their resultant?\n\nTo say that certain things \"ought\" to be, or that one \"ought\" to act in\nthis or that particular manner, are common expressions, and within\nlimits, relevant and intelligible expressions. But \"ought\" here clearly\nstands for no more than ideal conception. Its reference is to the\nfuture, not to the past. It does not imply a belief that things could\nhave resulted other than those which actually did result, but a belief\nthat given a suitable alteration in the conditions different results\nmight ensue in the future. When, for example, I say that men ought to\nthink wisely, I do not affirm either that all men do think wisely, or\nthat foolish men can do so without some change in their mental make-up.\nI merely eliminate all those conditions that make for unwise thinking,\nleaving wise thinking as the only possible result. That is, recognizing\nthat from different conditions different consequences will follow, in\nimagination, all forces that are inimical to the ideal end are\neliminated. We say that no man ought to commit murder, and yet if we\ntake as an illustration the congenital homicide, no one can assert that\nin his case, at least, anything but murder is possible, given favourable\nconditions for its perpetration. Or if it is said that congenital\nhomicide is a purely pathological case, it may surely be asserted that\nthe same general considerations apply to cases that are not classified\nas pathological. The more we know of the criminal's heredity,\nenvironment, and education, the more clearly it is seen that his deeds\nresult from the inter-action of these factors, and that these must be\nmodified if we are reasonably to expect any alteration in his conduct.\nIn fact, the criminal--or the saint--being what he is as the result of\nthe inter-action of possibly calculable factors is the essential\ncondition towards making \"the prediction of all things\" ideally, if not\nactually possible. In saying, then, that a man ought not to do wrong,\nwe are only saying that our ideal of a perfect man eliminates the idea\nof wrong-doing, and that our imagination is powerful enough to construct\na human character to which wrong-doing shall be alien.\n\nThe fallacy here is due to a confusion of the actual with the desirable.\nIf we are looking to the past we are bound to say that \"ought\" is\nmeaningless, because what has been is the only thing that could have\nbeen. Thus it is meaningless to say that a piece of string capable of\nwithstanding a strain of half a hundredweight ought to have withstood a\nstrain of half a ton. It is equally absurd to say that a man ought to\nhave withstood the germ of malarial fever, when his constitution\nrendered him susceptible to attack. Both of these instances will be\nreadily admitted. Is it, then, any more reasonable to say that a man\nought to have withstood a temptation to drunkenness, or theft, or\ncruelty--in the sense that given his nature he _could_ have withstood\nit--when all the circumstances of character, heredity, and environment\nmade for his downfall? We say that certain considerations \"ought\" to\nhave restrained Jones because they were enough to restrain Smith. Are\nwe, then, to conclude that Smith and Jones are so much alike--are, in\nfact, identical in character--that the same forces will influence each\nin the same manner and to the same degree? The assumption is obviously\nabsurd. What ought to have happened with Smith and Jones, bearing in\nmind all the conditions of the problem, is what did happen. What ought\nto happen to Smith and Jones in the future will be equally dependent\nupon the extent to which the character of the two becomes modified. In\nthis sense our conception of what \"ought\" to be in the future will guide\nus as to the nature of the influences we bring to bear upon Smith and\nJones. We believe that good actions may be possible in the future where\nbad ones occurred in the past, because we see that a change of\nconditions may produce the desired result. The \"moral postulate,\"\ntherefore, does not contain anything, or imply anything, in favour of\nIndeterminism. It does assert that certain things ought to be, but it\ncan only realize this by recognizing, and acting upon the recognition,\nthat just as certain forces in the past have issued in certain results,\nso a modification in the nature or incidence of these forces will\nproduce a corresponding modification of conduct in the future. Whatever\nelse there appears to be in the \"ought\" is a mere trick of the\nimagination; and the surprising thing is that a writer of the calibre of\nProfessor James should not have been perfectly alive to this.\n\nA cruder form of the same position, although introducing other issues,\nwas upheld by Dr. Martineau in the categorical statement, \"either\nfree-will is a fact, or moral judgment a delusion.\" His reason for this\nremarkable statement is:--\n\n    \"We could never condemn one turn of act or thought did we not\n    believe the agent to have command of another; and just in\n    proportion as we perceive, in his temperament or education or\n    circumstances, the certain preponderance of particular\n    suggestions, and the near approach to an inner necessity, do we\n    criticize him rather as a natural object than as a responsible\n    being, and deal with his aberrations as maladies instead of\n    sins.\"[5]\n\n    [5] _Types of Ethical Theory_, vol. ii. p. 41.\n\nWell, human nature might easily have been nearer perfection than it is\nhad moral aberrations been treated as maladies rather than sins, and one\ncertainly would not have felt greater regret had judges and critics\nalways been capable of rising to this level of judgment. Social,\npolitical, and religious malevolence might not have received the\ngratification and support it has received had this been the rule of\njudgment and the guide to methods of treatment, but our social\nconsciousness would have been of a superior texture than is now the\ncase. And one may ask whether there is any human action conceivable for\nwhich an adequate cause cannot be found in temperament or education or\ncircumstances, or in a combination of the three? It would tax any one's\ningenuity to name an action that lies outside the scope of these\ninfluences. Temperament, education, circumstances, are the great and\ncontrolling conditions of human action, and only in proportion as this\nis recognized and acted upon do we approach a science of human nature\nand begin to realize methods of profitable modification.\n\nAgainst Determinism Dr. Martineau argues that \"the moral life dwells\nexclusively in the voluntary sphere,\" and also that \"impulses of\nspontaneous action do not constitute character.\" The first of these\nstatements is at least very debatable, although it may turn upon a\nmatter of definition. But the second statement is distinctly inaccurate.\nOne may assert the exact opposite, and instead of saying that the\nimpulses of spontaneous action do not constitute character, argue that\nthey are the truest indications of character. Of course, from one point\nof view, all that a man does, whether it be spontaneous or reflective,\nmust be equally the expression of the whole man. But from another point\nof view the more permanent and enduring characteristics of a man may be\noverborne by a passing flood of emotion or by a casual combination of\nunusual circumstances. By these means an habitually mean man may be\nroused to acts of generosity, an habitual thief roused to acts of\nhonesty. Long reflection may cause a person to decide this or that, when\nhis spontaneous impulses are in the contrary direction. And while these\nreflections and floods of emotion are equally with the spontaneous\nimpulses part of a given personality, yet it will hardly be disputed\nthat the latter are the more deeply seated, will express themselves in a\nmore uniform manner, and are thus a truer and more reliable index to the\ncharacter of the person with whom we are dealing.\n\nHow far we are to accept morality as dwelling exclusively in the\nvoluntary, that is the intentional, sphere, is, as I have said, largely\na matter of definition. We may so define morality that it shall cover\nonly intentional acts, in which case the statement must be accepted, or\nwe can define morality in a wider sense, as covering all action by means\nof which desirable relations between people are maintained, in which\ncase the statement is not true. For we should then be committed to the\ncurious position that all moral development tends to make man less\nmoral. To have the quality of voluntariness an act must be consciously\nperformed with a particular end in view. But a large part of the more\nimportant functions of life do not come under this category, while a\nstill larger portion are only semi-voluntary. The whole set of instincts\nthat cluster round the family, the feelings which urge human beings to\nseek others' society, and which are the essential conditions of all\nsocial phenomena, do not properly come under the head of volition. Our\nconduct in any of these directions may easily be justified by reason,\nbut it would be absurd to argue that there is any intentional choice\ninvolved.\n\nMoreover, the chief aim of education, of the moralization of character,\nis to divest actions of their quality of reflectiveness or intention.\nOur aim here is so to fashion character that it will unquestioningly and\ninstinctively place itself on the right side. This is a force that\noperates on all individuals more or less, and from the cradle to the\ngrave. Family influences curb and fashion the egotism of the child until\nthere is an unconscious and often unreasoning adherence to the family\ncircle. Social influences continue the work and train the individual\ninto an instinctive harmony, more or less complete with the structure of\nthe society to which he belongs. The mere repetition of a particular\naction involves the formation of a habit, and habit is meaningless in\nthe absence of a modified nerve structure which reacts in a special\nmanner. Persistence in right action, therefore, no matter how\nconsciously it may be performed in its initial stages, inevitably passes\nover into unconscious or instinctive action. And let it be noted, too,\nthat it is only when this change has been brought about that a person\ncan be said to be a thoroughly moralized character. It is not the man\nwho does right after a long internal struggle that is most moral, but\nthe one with whom doing right is the most imperative of organic\nnecessities. We praise the man who does right after struggle, but\nchiefly because of our admiration at the triumph of right over wrong, or\nbecause his weakness cries for support, or because he has in him the\nmaking of a more perfect character. But to place him as the superior of\none whose right doing is the efflorescence of his whole nature is to\nmisunderstand the ethical problem. And equally to confine morality to\nmerely voluntary or intentional action is to truncate the sphere of\nmorals to an extent that would meet with the approval of very few\nwriters on ethics. In brief, one may not merely say with Lessing,\n\"Determinism has nothing to fear from the side of morals,\" one may add\nthat it is only on the theory of Determinism that the moralization of\ncharacter becomes a rational possibility.\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nPROFESSOR JAMES ON \"THE DILEMMA OF DETERMINISM.\"\n\n\nWe have seen in what has gone before how much of the case for Free-Will\nis based upon the wrong use of language, and upon a display of petulance\narising from the degree to which it is assumed that the universe ought\nto fulfil certain _a priori_ expectations. In this last respect the\nVolitionist behaves as if he were on a kind of shopping excursion, with\nfull liberty to purchase or reject the goods brought out for inspection.\nBoth of these points are well illustrated in an apology for\nIndeterminism offered by Professor William James, and although in\nexamining his argument it may be necessary to repeat in substance some\nof the arguments already used, this will not be without its value in\nenabling the reader to realize the shifts to which the defender of\nFree-Will is compelled to resort. In justice to Professor James,\nhowever, it is only fair to point out that it is not quite clear that he\nis thoroughly convinced of the position he sees fit to state. Much of\nhis argument reads as though he were merely stating a speculation that\nmight prove valuable, but which might also turn out valueless. Still,\nwhatever conviction he has, or had, appears to lean to the side of\nIndeterminism, and I shall accordingly deal with his argument as though\nhe were quite convinced of its soundness.\n\nIn his chief work, _The Principles of Psychology_, Professor James took\nup the perfectly sane position that a man would be foolish not to\nespouse \"the great scientific postulate\" that the prediction of all\nthings without exception must be possible, and drew a proper distinction\nbetween what is ideally possible--that is to complete knowledge--and\nwhat is actually possible to incomplete knowledge. In a later\ndeliverance he, for the time at least, forsakes this position and\nchampions a case which rests for its coherence very largely upon the\nneglect of those precautions previously insisted on.[6] To suit the\nnecessities of the argument the Determinist is made to say things that I\nthink few, if any, determinists ever dreamed of saying, while certain\nleading words are used with a meaning obviously framed to meet the\nrequirements of the case.\n\n    [6] See the lecture on \"The Dilemma of\n    Determinism\" in the volume _The Will to Believe,\n    and other Essays_. London; 1903.\n\nAt the outset of his essay Professor James remarks that if a certain\nformula--in this case the Determinist formula--\"for expressing the\nnature of the world violates my moral demands, I shall feel as free to\nthrow it overboard, or at least to doubt it, as if it disappointed my\ndemand for uniformity of sequence.\" And he proceeds to argue that all\nour scientific \"laws\" are ideal constructions, built up in order to\nsatisfy certain demands of our nature. Uniformity in nature is thus as\nmuch a formula framed to this end as is Free-Will. \"If this be\nadmitted,\" he says, \"we can debate on even terms.\"\n\nUnfortunately for the Professor's argument the two instances are not\nanalogous--not, at least, in the direction required. The sense of\ncausality is not something that is innate in human nature. Children at\nan early age hardly possess it, and primitive man has it in only a very\nvague manner. The conviction that all things are bound together in terms\nof causation is one that belongs, even to-day, to the educated,\nthoughtful mind. At any rate it is a conviction that has been forced\nupon the human mind by the sheer pressure of experience. It is a growth\nconsequent upon the mind's intercourse with the objective universe. And\nits validity is not called into question. On the other hand, this\nassumed \"moral demand\" for \"Free-Will\" is the very point in dispute.\nWhether there is such a demand, and if so is it a legitimate one, are\nthe questions upon which the discussion turns. And it will not do for\nProfessor James to claim Free-Will in the name of certain \"moral\ndemands\" and reserve the right to throw overboard any theory that does\nnot grant them. Man's moral nature, equally with his intellectual\nnature, must in the last resort yield to facts. It will not do to exalt\ninto a moral instinct what may be no more than a personal idiosyncrasy.\nThere is certainly no more than this in such expressions as \"something\nmust be fatally unreasonable, absurd, and wrong in the world,\" or \"I\ndeliberately refuse to keep on terms of loyalty with the universe,\" if\ncertain things turn out to be true. Such phrases are completely out of\nplace in a scientific enquiry. The universe will remain what it is\nwhether we call it absurd or rational, and may even survive the raising\nof the standard of revolt by so eminent a psychologist as Professor\nJames, to whom we would commend, were he still alive, Schopenhauer's\nprofound remark that there are no moral phenomena, only moral\ninterpretations of phenomena.\n\nWhat, now, is the insuperable dilemma which Professor James places\nbefore upholders of Determinism? The whole of it turns out to be little\nmore than a play upon the words \"possible\" and \"actual.\" Determinism, he\nsays, professes that \"those parts of the universe already laid down\nabsolutely appoint and decree (Why 'appoint' and 'decree'? Why not the\nimpersonal word 'determine?') what the other parts shall be.\" The future\nis determined by the past; and given the past, only one future is\npossible. Indeterminism says that \"the parts have a certain amount of\nloose play on one another, so that the laying down of one of them does\nnot necessarily determine what the others shall be.\" Thus, still\nfollowing Professor James's exposition, given a special instance, both\nsides admit the occurrence of a volition. The Determinist asserts that\nno other volition could have occurred. The Indeterminist asserts that\nanother volition might have occurred, other things remaining the same.\nAnd, asks the Professor, can science tell us which is correct? His reply\nis, No. \"How can any amount of assurance that something actually\nhappened give us the least grain of information as to whether another\nthing might or might not have happened in its place? Only facts can be\nproved by other facts. With things that are possibilities and not\nfacts, facts have no concern.\"\n\nThe position may be made clearer by taking the Professor's own\nillustration. When, he says, I leave this lecture hall I may go home\n_via_ Divinity Avenue, or traverse Oxford Street. It is a matter of\nchance which route is selected. But assume that by some miracle, after\nhaving walked down Divinity Avenue, ten minutes of time are annihilated,\nand reaching the Hall door again Oxford Street is the route selected.\nSpectators thus have two alternative universes. One universe with the\nProfessor walking through Divinity Avenue, the other with him walking\nthrough Oxford Street. If the spectators are Determinists they will\nbelieve only one universe to have been from eternity possible. But, asks\nProfessor James, looking outwardly at these two universes, can anyone\nsay which is the accidental and which is the necessary one? \"In other\nwords, either universe _after the fact_ and once there would, to our\nmeans of observation and understanding, appear just as rational as the\nother.\" There is no means by which we can distinguish chance from a\nrational necessity. A universe which allows a certain loose play of the\nparts is as rational as one which submits to the most rigid determinism.\n\nBefore dealing with the above, it is necessary to take another phrase on\nwhich much of the above argument depends. Professor James says that the\nstronghold of the Determinist sentiment is antipathy to the idea of\n\"Chance,\" and chance is a notion not to be entertained by any sane mind.\nAnd the sting, he says, seems to rest on the assumption that chance is\nsomething positive, and if a thing happens by chance it must needs be\nirrational and preposterous. But I am not aware that any scientific\nDeterminist ever used \"chance\" as being a positive term at all.\nCertainly the last thing the present writer would dream of doing would\nbe to predicate chance of any portion of the objective universe\nwhatsoever. The only legitimate use of the word is in reference to _the\nstate of our knowledge concerning phenomena_. To say that a thing\nchanced, or happened by chance, is only saying that we are not aware of\nthe causes that produced it. We say nothing of the thing itself, we only\nexpress the state of our mind in relation to it.\n\nProfessor James says all you mean by \"chance\" is that a thing is not\nguaranteed, it may fall out otherwise. Not guaranteed by our knowledge\nabout the thing, certainly; in any other sense, his definition seems\ninvented for the express purpose of bolstering up his hypothesis. For,\nhe says, a chance thing means that the general system of things has no\nhold on it. It appears in relation to other things, but it escapes their\ndetermining influence, and appears as \"a free gift.\" Thus whether he\nwalked down Divinity Avenue or Oxford Street was a matter of chance; and\nthe future of the world is full of similar chances--events that may take\none of several forms, either of which is consistent with the whole.\n\nWe now have the essence of Professor James's case, and can consider it\nin detail. First of all we may note the curiously double sense in which\nProfessor James uses the word \"fact\" and the agility with which he skips\nfrom one meaning to another, as it suits his argument. In a broad and\ngeneral sense a mental fact is as much a fact as any other fact. A man\nriding on horseback is a fact. My vision or conception of a horse with\nthe head of a man is equally a fact, though nothing like it exists in\nnature. We should discriminate between the two by saying that one is a\nmental fact strictly relative to a particular mind, the other is an\nobjective fact relative to all minds normally constituted. Now science\ndoes not deny possibilities as _mental facts_. But it would be a very\nqueer science indeed that allowed all sorts of possibilities of a given\ngroup of phenomena _under identical conditions_. Like \"chance,\" the\npossibilities of the Universe are strictly relative to our knowledge\nconcerning it. If opposite things appear equally possible, it is only\nbecause we are not sufficiently conversant with the processes to say\nwhich thing is certain. A universe with Professor James walking down\nDivinity Avenue appears as orderly and as natural as one with him\nparading Oxford Street. But this is because we cannot unravel the\ncomplex conditions that may determine the selection of one route or the\nother. Or if it be said in reply, that the walker is unaware of any\nchoice in the matter, the answer is that there is present the desire to\nget away from the lecture hall and arrive at home, and this is strong\nenough to make the choice of means to that end unimportant. If the\nchoice lay between walking down a sunlit street or wading through a mile\nof water, five feet deep, while the latter would still remain a\npossibility, since it could be done were the inducement to do it strong\nenough, there is not much doubt as to what the choice would actually be.\n\nThe complete reply therefore to Professor James's illustration is that\nfrom the standpoint of mere possibility, bearing in mind the proper\nsignificance of possibility, opposite alternatives may be equally real.\nWe can, that is, conceive conditions under which a certain thing may\noccur, and we can conceive another set of conditions under which exactly\nthe opposite may occur. And either alternative presents us with a\nuniverse that is equally \"rational,\" because in either case we vary the\nco-operating conditions in order to produce the imagined consequence.\nBut given a complete knowledge of all the co-operating conditions, and\nnot only do two views of the universe cease to be equally rational, but\none of them ceases to be even conceivable. For let us note that the\nresultant of any calculation is no more and no less than a synthesis of\nthe factors that are included in the calculation. If we do not\nunderstand the factors included in a given synthesis it will be a matter\nof \"chance\" what the resultant may be. But if we do understand the\nnature of the factors, and the consequence of their synthesis,\npossibility and actuality become convertible terms. Finally, whether a\nman on leaving a lecture hall turns to the right or the left appears,\nunder ordinary conditions, equally rational and natural only because we\nare aware that it may be a matter of indifference which direction he\ntakes, and in that case his action will be governed by the simple\ndesire to get away, or to get to a particular spot. It is a simple\ndeduction from experience presented by Professor James in a needlessly\nconfusing manner.\n\nThe next, and practically the only example cited by Professor James to\nprove that this world is a world of \"chances,\" is concerned with a\nquestion of morals. We constantly, he says, have occasion to make\n\"judgments of regret.\" In illustration of this, he cites the case of a\nparticularly brutal murder, and adds, \"We feel that, although a perfect\nmechanical fit to the rest of the universe, it is a bad moral fit, and\nthat something else would really have been better in its place.\" But\n\"calling a thing bad means, if it means anything at all, that the thing\nought not to be, that something else ought to be in its stead.\" If\nDeterminism denies this it is defining the universe as a place \"in which\nwhat ought to be is impossible,\" and this lands us in pessimism, or if\nwe are to escape pessimism we can only do so by abandoning the judgment\nof regret. But if our regrets are necessitated nothing else can be in\ntheir place, and the universe is what it was before--a place in which\nwhat ought to be appears impossible. Murder and treachery cannot be good\nwithout regret being bad, regret cannot be good without murder and\ntreachery being bad. As both, however, are foredoomed, something must be\nfatally wrong and absurd in the world.\n\nNow, I must confess all this seems a deal of bother concerning a fairly\nsimple matter. Indeed, Professor James seems to be engaged in raising a\ndust and then complaining of the murkiness of the atmosphere. Coming\nfrom a writer of less standing I might, in view of what has been said\nelsewhere in this essay, have left the reply to the careful reader's\nunderstanding of the subject. But from so eminent a psychologist as\nWilliam James, silence might well be construed as deterministic\ninability to reply to the position laid down.\n\nIn the first place, I may be pardoned for again reminding the reader\nthat, in this connection, \"ought\" stands upon precisely the same level\nas \"possible.\" Whether we say that a man ought to do a certain thing, or\nthat it is possible for him to do a certain thing, we are making\nidentical statements, for no one would dream of saying that a man ought\nto do that which it is impossible for him to perform. When we say that\nmurder and treachery ought not to be, we do not imply--if we use\nlanguage properly--that these are not as much part of the cosmic order,\nand as much the expression of co-operating conditions, as are kindness\nand loyalty. It is saying no more than that in our judgment human nature\nmay be so trained and conditioned as to practise neither murder nor\ntreachery. We are expressing a judgment as to what our ideal of human\nnature is, and our ideal of what human nature should be is based upon\nwhat experience has taught us concerning its possibilities. Man's\n\"judgment of regret\" is justifiable and admirable, not because he\nrecognizes that the past could have been different from what it was, but\nbecause it furnishes him with the requisite experience for a better\ndirection of action in the future, and because the feeling of regret is\nitself one of the determining conditions that will decide conduct in\nthe future.\n\n\"The question,\" says Professor James, \"is of things, not of eulogistic\nnames for them.\" With this I cordially agree; but in that case what are\nwe to make of the following:--\n\n    \"The only consistent way of representing ... a world whose parts\n    may affect one another through their conduct being either good\n    or bad is the indeterminate way. What interest, zest, or\n    excitement can there be in achieving the right way, unless we\n    are enabled to feel that the wrong way is also a possible and a\n    natural way--nay, more, a menacing and an imminent way? And what\n    sense can there be in condemning ourselves for taking the wrong\n    way, unless we need have done nothing of the sort, unless the\n    right way was open to us as well? I cannot understand the\n    willingness to act, no matter how we feel, without the belief\n    that acts are really good or bad. I cannot understand the belief\n    that an act is bad, without regret at its happening. I cannot\n    understand regret without the admission of real genuine\n    possibilities in the world.\"\n\nEliminate from this all that is matter of common agreement between\nDeterminists and Indeterminists, and what have we left but sheer verbal\nconfusion? The pleasurable feeling that results from a sense of\nachievement is real no matter what are the lines on which the universe\nis constructed. One might as reasonably ask, Why feel a greater\ninterest in a first-class orchestral performance, than in the harmonic\noutrages of a hurdy-gurdy, since both are, from the physical side,\nvibratory phenomena? And is it not clear, to repeat a truth already\nemphasized, that a most important factor in our condemning ourselves for\ndoing a wrong action is the fact that we have done so. It is one of the\ndetermining conditions of doing better actions in future. Of course,\nProfessor James cannot understand the belief that an act is bad, without\nregret at its happening. Neither can anyone else, for the simple reason\nthat one involves the other. The statement is as much a truism as is the\none that we can have no willingness to act unless we believe that acts\nare either good or bad. Equally true is it that regret implies real\npossibilities in the world--not always, though, for we may regret death\nor the radiation into extra terrestrial space of solar energy without\nbelieving that the prevention of either is possible. But our\npossibilities in relation to conduct do not, as the argument implies,\nrelate to the past, but to the future. Indeed, the sense of possibility\nwould be morally worthless were it otherwise.\n\nFinally, and this brings me to what is one of the cardinal weaknesses of\nso much of the writing on psychology, Professor James's argument is\nvitiated by non-recognition of the fact that regret and satisfaction,\npraise and blame, with most of the cardinal moral qualities, are\n_social_ in their origin and application. They represent the reaction of\nour social feelings against anti-social conduct, or their expression of\nsatisfaction at conduct of an opposite character. They are consequently\nthe creations, not of an indwelling \"will,\" but of an outdwelling social\nrelationship. They are not impressed by the \"ego\" upon the world, they\nare impressed by the world upon the ego. Character is not something that\neach individual brings ready fashioned to the service of society; it is\nsomething that society itself creates. It has been fashioned by\ncountless generations of social evolution, and, in the main, that\nevolution has of necessity placed due emphasis upon those intellectual\nand moral qualities on which social welfare depends.\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nTHE NATURE AND IMPLICATIONS OF RESPONSIBILITY.\n\n\nIf Hume was not right in asserting that a few intelligible definitions\nwould put an end to the Free-Will controversy, his error lay in assuming\na greater receptivity of mind than most people possess. For it may\nsafely be asserted that once the legitimate meanings of the terms\nemployed are acknowledged, and they are properly applied to the matter\nin dispute, it may be shown that the opponents of Determinism have been\nbeating the air. The Determinism they attack is not the Determinism that\nis either professed or defended. The consequences they forecast follow\nonly from a distorted, and often meaningless, use of the terms employed.\nInstead of the Determinist denying the moral and mental value of certain\nqualities of which the Indeterminist announces himself the champion, he\nadmits their value, gives them a definite meaning, and proves that it is\nonly by an assumption of the truth of the cardinal principle of\nDeterminism that they have any reality. This has already been shown to\nbe true in the case of Freedom, Choice, Deliberation, etc.; it remains\nto pursue the same method with such conceptions as praise and blame or\npunishment and reward, and responsibility.\n\nThe charge is, again, that Determinism robs praise and blame and\nresponsibility of all meaning, and reduces them to mere verbal\nexpressions which some may mistake for the equivalents of reality, but\nwhich clearer thinkers will estimate at their true worth. What is the\nuse of praising or blaming if each one does what heredity, constitution,\nand environment compels? Why punish a man for being what he is? Why hold\nhim responsible for the expressions of a character provided for him, and\nfor the influence of an environment which he had no part in forming? So\nthe string of questions run on. None of them, it may safely be said,\nwould ever be asked if all properly realized the precise meaning and\napplication of the terms employed. For as with the previous terms\nexamined, it is an acceptance of Indeterminism that would rob these\nwords of all value. Rationally conceived they are not only consonant\nwith Determinism, but each of them implies it.\n\nOf the four terms mentioned above--Praise, Blame, Punishment, and\nResponsibility, the cardinal and governing one is the last. It will be\nwell, therefore, to endeavour to fix this with some degree of clearness.\n\nTo commence with we may note that in contra-distinction to \"freedom\"\nwhere the testimony of consciousness is illegitimately invoked, a\nconsciousness of responsibility is essential to its existence. A person\nin whom it was manifestly impossible to arouse such a consciousness\nwould be unhesitatingly declared to be irresponsible. There is here,\nconsequently, both the fact of responsibility and our consciousness of\nit that calls for explanation. And both require for an adequate\nexplanation a larger area than is offered by mere individual psychology.\nIndeed, so long as we restrict ourselves to the individual we cannot\nunderstand either the fact or the consciousness of responsibility. By\nlimiting themselves in this manner some Determinists have been led to\ndeny responsibility altogether. The individual, they have said, does not\ncreate either his own organism or its environment, and consequently all\nreasonable basis for responsibility disappears. To which there is the\neffective reply that the datum for responsibility is found in the nature\nof the organism and in the possibility of its being affected by certain\nsocial forces, and not in the absolute origination of its own impulses\nand actions. It is playing right into the hands of the Indeterminist to\ndeny so large and so important a social phenomenon as responsibility.\nAnd to the Indeterminist attack, that if action is the expression of\nheredity, organism, and environment, there is no room for\nresponsibility, there is the effective reply that it is precisely\nbecause the individual's actions are the expression of all the forces\nbrought to bear upon him that he may be accounted responsible. The\nDeterminist has often been too ready to take the meanings and\nimplications of words from his opponent, instead of checking the sense\nin which they were used.\n\nThe general sense of responsibility--omitting all secondary meanings--is\nthat of accountability, to be able to reply to a charge, or to be able\nto answer a claim made upon us. This at once gives us the essential\ncharacteristic of responsibility, and also stamps it as a phenomenon of\nsocial ethics. A man living on a desert island would not be responsible,\nunless we assume his responsibility to deity; and even here we have the\nessential social fact--relation to a person--reintroduced. It is our\nrelations to others, that and the influence of our actions upon others,\ncombined with the possibility of our natures being affected by the\npraise or censure of the social body to which we belong, which sets up\nthe fact of responsibility. Conduct creates a social reaction, good or\nbad, agreeable or disagreeable, and the reacting judgment of society\nawakens in each of us a consciousness of responsibility, more or less\nacute, and more or less drastic, to society at large. The individual\nsees himself in the social mirror. His nature is fashioned by the social\nmedium, his personal life becomes an expression of the social life. Just\nas the social conscience, in the shape of a legal tribunal, judges each\nfor actions that are past, so the larger social conscience, as expressed\nin a thousand and one different forms, customs, and associations, judges\nus for those desires and dispositions that may result in action in the\nfuture. Responsibility as a phenomenon of social psychology is obvious,\neducative, inescapable, and admirable. Responsibility as a phenomenon of\nindividual psychology, whether from the Determinist or Indeterminist\npoint of view, is positively meaningless.\n\nTaking, then, responsibility as a fact of social life, with its true\nsignificance of accountability, let us see its meaning on deterministic\nlines. For the sake of clearness we will first take legal responsibility\nas illustrating the matter. In law a man is accounted guilty provided he\nknows the law he is breaking, and also that he is capable of\nappreciating the consequences of his actions. A further consideration of\nno mean importance is that the consequences attending the infringement\nof the law are assumed to be sufficiently serious to counterbalance the\ninducements to break the regulation. And as all citizens are assumed to\nknow the law, we may confine our attention to the last two aspects.\nWhat, then, is meant by ability to appreciate consequences? There can be\nno other meaning than the capacity to create an ideal presentment of the\npenalties attaching to certain actions. Every promise of reward or\nthreat of punishment assumes this, and assumes also that provided the\nideal presentment is strong enough, certain general results will follow.\nIt is on this principle alone that punishments are proportioned to\noffences, and that certain revisions of penalties take place from time\nto time. Negatively the same thing is shown by the fact that young\nchildren, idiots, and lunatics are not legally held responsible for\ntheir actions. The ground here is that the power to represent ideally\nthe full consequences of actions is absent, or operates in an abnormal\nmanner. Moreover, the whole line of proof to establish insanity in a\ncourt of law is that a person is not amenable to certain desires and\nimpulses in the same manner as are normally constituted people.\n\nSubstantially the same thing is seen if we take the fact of\nresponsibility in non-legal matters. A very young child, incapable of\nideally representing consequences, is not considered a responsible\nbeing. An older child has a limited responsibility in certain simple\nmatters. As it grows older, and growth brings with it the power of more\nfully appreciating the consequence of actions, its responsibility\nincreases in the home, in the school, in business, social, religious,\nand political circles it is held accountable for its conduct, in\nproportion as the power of estimating the consequences of actions is\nassumed. In other words, we assume not that there is at any stage an\nautonomous or self-directing \"will\" in operation, but that a particular\nquality of motive will operate at certain stages of mental development,\nand the whole of the educative process, in the home, the school, and in\nsociety, aims at making these motives effective. That is, the whole fact\nof responsibility assumes as a datum the very condition that the\nIndeterminist regards as destroying responsibility altogether. He argues\nthat if action is the expression of character, responsibility is a\nfarce. But it is precisely because action is the expression of character\nthat responsibility exists. When the law, or when society, calls a man\nto account for something he has done, it does not deny that had he\npossessed a different character he would have acted differently. It does\nnot assert that at the time of action he could have helped doing what he\ndid. Both may be admitted. What it does say is that having a character\nof such and such a kind certain things are bound to follow. But\ninasmuch as that character may be modified by social opinion or social\ncoercion, inasmuch as it will respond to certain influences brought to\nbear upon it, it is a responsible character, and so may be held\naccountable for its actions.\n\nThere is, therefore, nothing incompatible between Determinism and\nResponsibility. The incompatibility lies between Indeterminism and\nResponsibility. What meaning can we attach to it, on what ground can we\ncall a person to account, if our calling him to account is not one of\nthe considerations that will affect his conduct? Grant that a\nconsciousness of responsibility decides how a person shall act, and the\nprinciple of Determinism is admitted. Deny that a consciousness of\nresponsibility determines action, and the phrase loses all meaning and\nvalue. The difficulty arises, as has been said, by ignoring the fact\nthat responsibility is of social origin, and in looking for an\nexplanation in individual psychology. It would, of course, be absurd to\nmake man responsible for being what he is, but so long as he is amenable\nto the pressure of normal social forces he is responsible or accountable\nfor what he may be. Whatever his character be, so long as it has the\ncapacity of being affected by social pressure, it is a responsible\ncharacter. And this is the sole condition that makes responsibility\nintelligible.\n\nHaving said this, it is not difficult to see the place of punishment and\nreward, or praise and blame, in the Determinist scheme of things.\nAnother word than punishment might be selected, and one that would be\nwithout its unpleasant associations, but on the whole it is advisable\nperhaps to retain the word in order to see the nature of the problem\nclearly. Of course, punishment in the sense of the infliction of pain\nmerely because certain actions have been committed, no Determinist would\ncountenance. So far as punishment is inflicted in this spirit of sheer\nretaliation it serves only to gratify feelings of malevolence. A society\nthat punishes merely to gratify resentment is only showing that it can\nbe as brutal collectively as individuals can be singly. And if\npunishment begins and ends with reference to the past, then it is\ncertainly revolting to inflict pain upon a person because he has done\nwhat education and organization impelled him to do. So far one can agree\nwith Professor Sidgwick that when a man's conduct is \"compared with a\ncode, to the violation of which punishments are attached, the question\nwhether he really could obey the rule by which he is judged is obvious\nand inevitable.\" But when he goes on to reply \"If he could not, it seems\ncontrary to our sense of justice to punish him,\" the reply is, Not if\nthe code is one that normal human nature can obey, and the individual\none who can be modified in a required direction in both his own interest\nand the interest of others. For if our punishment is prospective instead\nof retrospective, or at least retrospective only so far as to enable us\nto understand the character of the individual with whom we are dealing,\nand using punishment as one of the means of securing a desirable\nmodification of character, then punishment is merged in correction, and\nreceives a complete justification upon Deterministic lines.\n\nThe problem is comparatively simple. Actions being decided by motives,\nthe problem with a socially defective character is how to secure the\nprevalence of desires that will issue in desirable conduct. A man\nsteals; the problem then is, How can we so modify the character of which\nstealing is the expression, so that we may weaken the desire to steal\nand strengthen feelings that will secure honesty of action? On the lower\nplane society resorts to threats of pains and penalties, so that when\nthe desire to steal arises again, the knowledge that certain measures\nwill be taken against the offender will arrest this desire. This is one\nof the principal grounds on which a measure like the First Offenders Act\nis based. On a higher plane the approval and respect of society serve to\nawaken a positive liking for honesty and the formation of desirable\nmental habits. Praise and blame rest upon a precisely similar basis. Man\nbeing the socialized animal he is, the approbation and disapprobation of\nhis fellows must always exert considerable influence on his conduct. The\nmemory of censure passed or of praise bestowed acts as one of the many\ninfluences that will determine conduct when the critical moment for\naction arrives. Man does not always consciously put the question of what\nhis social circle will think of his actions, but this feeling rests upon\na deeper and more secure basis than that of consciousness. It has been,\nso to speak, worked into his nature by all the generations of social\nlife that have preceded his existence, and to escape it means to put\noff all that is distinctly human in his character. Every time we praise\nor blame an action we are helping to mould character, for both will\nserve as guides in the future. And it is just because at the moment of\naction a person \"could not help doing\" what he did that there is any\nreasonable justification for either approval or censure. Social approval\nand disapproval become an important portion of the environment to which\nthe human being must perforce adapt himself.\n\nWhat use could there be in punishing or blaming a man if his actions are\ndetermined, not by realizable motives, but by a mysterious will that in\nspite of our endeavours remains uninfluenced? If neither the promise nor\nthe recollection of punishment creates feelings that will determine\nconduct, then one might as well whip the wind. Its only purpose is to\ngratify our own feelings of anger or malevolence. It is equally futile\nto look for the cause of wrong-doing in education, organization, or\nenvironment. For in proportion as we recognize any or all of these\nfactors as determining conduct we are deserting the Indeterminist\nposition, and relinquishing the \"freedom\" of the will. If Indeterminism\nbe true we are forced to believe that although as a consequence of\nill-conduct evil feelings may arise with greater frequency, yet they\nmust be wholly ineffective as influencing action. It cannot even be\nargued that certain motives offer stronger attraction than others to the\nwill, for this in itself would be a form of determinism. There is no\nmiddle course. Either the \"will\" remains absolutely uninfluenced by\nthreat of punishment or desire for praise, serenely indifferent to the\nconflict of desires, and proof against the influence of education, or it\nforms a part of the causative sequence and the truth of Determinism is\nadmitted. You cannot at the same time hold that man does not act in\naccordance with the strongest motive, and decide that the \"will\"\nmaintains its freedom by deciding which motive shall be the\nstrongest--its own determination not being the product of previous\ntraining. One need, indeed, only state the Indeterminist position\nplainly to see its inherent absurdity.\n\nIf ever in any case the argument _ad absurdum_ was applicable it is\nsurely here. It may safely be said that the larger part of the life of\neach of us is passed in anticipating the future in the light of\nexperience. But if \"Free-Will\" be a fact, on what ground can we forecast\nthe future. If motives do not determine conduct, any prophecy of what\ncertain people may do in a given situation is futile. The will being\nindetermined, what they have done in the past is no guide as to what\nthey will do in the future. If motives did not decide then they will not\ndecide now. Whether we read backward or forward makes no difference. We\nhave no right to say that the actions of certain statesmen prove them to\nhave been animated by the desire for wealth or power. That would imply\nDeterminism. We cannot say that because a murder has been committed a\ncertain person who bore the deceased ill-will is rightly suspected. This\nis assuming that conduct is determined by motives. If we see a person\njump into the river, we have no right to argue that depressed health,\nor financial worry, or impending social disgrace, has caused him to\ncommit suicide. The mother may as easily murder her child as nurse it.\nThe workman may labour as well for a bare pittance as for a comfortable\nwage. A man outside a house in the early hours of the morning, armed\nwith a dark lantern and a jemmy, may have no desire to commit a\nburglary. A person with a game bag and a gun furnishes no reliable data\nfor believing that he intends to shoot something. In all of these cases,\nand in hundreds of others, if \"free-will\" be a fact we have no right to\nargue from actions to motives, or infer motives from actions. Motives do\nnot rule, and we are witnessing the uncaused and unaccountable vagaries\nof an autonomous will.\n\nIt is sometimes said that no matter how convinced a Determinist one may\nbe, one always acts as though the will were free. This, so far from\nbeing true, is the reverse of what really happens. In all the affairs of\nlife people of all shades of opinion concerning Determinism really act\nas though \"Free-Will\" had no existence. It would, indeed, be strange\nwere it otherwise. Facts are more insistent than theories, and in the\nlast resort it is the nature of things which determines the course of\nour actions. Nature, while permitting considerable latitude in matters\nof theory or opinion, allows comparatively little play in matters of\nconduct. And it may be asserted that a society which failed to\nacknowledge in its conduct the principle of Determinism would stand but\nsmall chance of survival. As a matter of fact, when it comes to\npractical work the theory of \"Free-Will\" is ignored and the theory of\nDeterminism acted upon. The unfortunate thing is that the maintenance of\n\"Free-Will\" in the sphere of opinion serves to check the wholesome\napplication of the opposite principle. Theory is used to check action\ninstead of serving its proper function as a guide to conduct.\n\nStill, it is instructive to note to what extent in the sphere of\npractice the principle of Determinism is admitted. In dealing with the\ndrink question, for instance, temperance reformers argue that a\ndiminution in the number of public-houses, and the creation of\nopportunities for healthy methods of enjoyment, will diminish temptation\nand weaken the desire for alcoholic stimulants. In the training of\nchildren stress is rightly laid upon the importance of the right kind of\nassociates, the power of education, and of healthy physical\nsurroundings. With adults, the beneficial influences of fresh air, good\nfood, well-built houses, open spaces, and healthy conditions of labour\nhave become common-places of sociology. In every rational biography\nattention is paid to the formative influences of parents, friends, and\ngeneral environment. Medical men seek the cause of frames of mind in\nnervous structure, and predisposition to physical, mental, and moral\ndisease in heredity. Statisticians point to absolute uniformity of\ngeneral human action under certain social conditions. Moralists point to\nthe power of ideals on people's minds. Religious teachers emphasize the\npower of certain teachings in reducing particular habits. In all these\ncases no allowance whatever is made for the operation of an undetermined\nwill. The motive theory of action may not be consciously in the minds\nof all, but it is everywhere and at all times implied in practice.\n\nIn strict truth, we cannot undertake a single affair in life without\nmaking the assumption that people will act in accordance with certain\nmotives, and that these in turn will be the outcome of specific desires.\nIf I journey from here to Paris I unconsciously assume that certain\nforces--the desire to retain a situation, to earn a living, to satisfy a\nsense of duty--will cause all the officials connected with boat and\ntrain service to carry out their duties in a given manner. If I appeal\nfor the protection of the police I am again counting upon certain\nmotives influencing the official mind in a particular manner. All\ncommercial transactions rest upon the same unconscious assumption. A\nmerchant who places an order with a firm in Russia, America, or Japan,\nor who sends goods abroad, counts with absolute confidence upon certain\ndesires and mental states so influencing a number of people with whom he\nhas no direct connection, that they will co-operate in landing the goods\nat the point desired. Or if the goods are not transmitted as desired, it\nis not because the principle upon which he relied is invalid, but\nbecause other desires have operated in a more powerful manner. A general\ncommanding an army acts on precisely the same principle. The ideal of\nduty, of the honour of the regiment, the desire for distinction, are all\ncounted upon as being powerful enough to serve as motives that will\ncause men to join in battle, storm a risky position, or take part in a\nforlorn hope. History is read upon the same principle. The statement\nthat Nero was cruel, that Henry the Eighth was of an amatory nature,\nthat Charles I. was tyrannical, or that Louis the Fifteenth was\nlicentious, could not be made unless we argue that their actions imply\nthe existence of certain motives. That the motive theory of the will is\ntrue is admitted in practice by all. The Indeterminist admits it even in\nhis appeal to \"Liberty.\" He is counting upon the desire for freedom\n(sociologically) as being strong enough to lead people to reject a\ntheory which denies its applicability to morals.\n\nHuman nature becomes a chaos if Determinism is denied. Neither a science\nof human conduct nor of history is possible in its absence; for both\nassume a fundamental identity of human nature beneath all the\ncomparatively superficial distinctions of colour, creed, or national\ndivisions. The determination of the influence of climate, food,\ninter-tribal or international relations, of the power of ideals--moral,\nreligious, military, national, etc.--are all so many exercises in the\nphilosophy of Determinism. In none of these directions do we make the\nleast allowance for the operation of an uncaused \"will.\" We say with\nabsolute confidence that given a people with a military environment, and\neither its discomforts produce an anti-militarist feeling, or its\nglamour evokes a strong militarist feeling. So with all other\nconsideration that comes before us. And as Determinism enables us to\nread and understand history and life, so it also provides a basis upon\nwhich we can work for reform. In the belief that certain influences will\nproduce, in the main, a particular result, we can lay our plans and\nwork with every prospect of ultimate success. Instead of our best\nendeavours being left at the mercy of an undetermined \"will,\" they take\ntheir place as part of the determining influences that are moulding\nhuman nature. Every action becomes a portion of the environment with\nwhich each has to deal. More, it becomes a portion of the agent's own\nenvironment, a part of that ideal world in which we all more or less\nlive. And the heightened consciousness that every action leaves a\ncertain residuum for either good or ill, supplies in itself one of the\nstrongest incentives for the exercise of self-control and furnishes an\nunshakable basis for self-development.\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\nDETERMINISM AND CHARACTER.\n\n\nIn spite of what has been said, it may be that a protest will still be\nraised by some on behalf of character. A man's character, it will be\nargued, is an alienable personal possession. What he does belongs to him\nin a sense that is peculiar to his personality. In many important\ninstances his actions bear the stamp of individuality in so plain a\nmanner that while we cannot predict what he will do, once it is done we\nrecognize by the peculiar nature of the action that it must have been\ndone by him and by none other. In painting, in music, in literature, and\nin many other walks of life, we are able to infer authorship by the\npersonality stamped upon the production. Moreover, nothing that we can\ndo or say will ever destroy the conviction that my actions are _mine_.\nThey proceed from _me_; they are the expressions of _my_ character; it\nis this feeling that induces me to plead guilty to the charge of\nresponsibility, and this conviction remains after all argument has been\nurged. But, it is further asked, how can this be aught but an illusion\nif I am not the real and determining cause of my conduct? If I and my\nactions are the products of a converging series of calculable or\nindetermined forces, are we not compelled to dismiss this conviction as\npure myth? Must I not conclude that I am no more the determining cause\nof my conduct than a stone determines whether it shall fall to the\nground or not? And is not the cultivation of character, therefore, an\nabsurd futility?\n\nNow although the Determinist will dissent from the conclusions of those\nwho argue in this way, with a great deal of the argument he would agree;\nmore than that, he would enforce the same line of reasoning as a\nlegitimate inference from his own position. And he might also submit\nthat it is only by an acceptance of the deterministic position that such\nreasoning can receive full justification.\n\nWhat do we mean by character? Suppose we reply with T. H. Green by\ndefining character as the way in which a man seeks self-satisfaction.[7]\nWe are next faced with the problem of accounting for the different ways\nin which self-satisfaction is sought. One man is a drunkard and another\ntemperate, one is benevolent and another grasping, one is cruel and\nanother kind; there are endless diversities of human conduct, and all\ncome within the scope of Green's definition of character. We have to\nlook farther and deeper. A satisfactory answer clearly cannot be found\nin the assumption that each person's actions proceed from an unfettered,\nautonomous will. The reason for the choice would still have to be\ndiscovered. Nor will it do to attribute the difference of choice to\ndifferent environmental influences in which the \"self\" is placed. This\nwould indeed be reducing the man to the level of a machine, or to a\nlower level still. And the same environmental influences do _not_\nproduce identical results. This is one of the commonest facts of daily\nexperience. Stimulus from the environment is the essential condition of\naction, but the precise nature of the action elicited is an affair of\nthe organism. If I am courageous by nature I shall stay and face a\nthreatened danger. If I am cowardly I shall run away. Thus, while\ncircumstances are the cause of my acting, how I shall act is in turn\ncaused by my character, the net result being due to their interaction.\nThis seems so obvious that it may well be accepted as a datum common to\nboth parties in the dispute.\n\n    [7] _Works_, vol. ii. p. 142.\n\nWe may, then, freely grant the Indeterminist--what he foolishly assumes\nis inconsistent with the Deterministic position--that environment may be\nmodified by character, that a man is not the creature of circumstances,\nif we restrict that word to external circumstances, as is so often done.\nA man, we will say, allowing for the influence of external\ncircumstances, acts according to his character. The question then\nbecomes, \"What is his character? How does he acquire it?[8] And whence\nthe varieties of character?\" To these queries the only intelligible\nreply is that a man's character represents his psychic heritage, as his\nbody represents his physical heritage, both of them being subject to\ndevelopment and modification by post-natal influences. Each one thus\nbrings a different psychic force, or a different character, to bear upon\nthe world around him. He is thus the author of his acts, not in the\nunintelligible sense of absolutely originating the sequence that\nproceeds from his actions, but in the rational sense of being that point\nin the sequence that is represented by his personality. And his actions\nbear the stamp of his personality because had his antecedents been\ndifferent his actions would have varied accordingly. Each is properly\njudged in terms of character, because it is the character which\ndetermines the form taken by the reaction of the organism on the\nenvironment.\n\n    [8] Of course, the man and his character are not\n    two distinct things. The character is the man. But\n    it would involve needless circumlocution to insist\n    on superfine distinctions, and it may even help to\n    a comprehension of the argument to keep to\n    familiar forms of speech.\n\nWe may go even further than this and say that it is only actions which\nproceed from character that are properly the subject of moral judgment.\nLet us take a concrete illustration of this. A man distributes a large\nsum of money among the inhabitants of a town, some of it in the form of\npersonal gifts among its needy inhabitants, the rest in endowing various\ninstitutions connected with its social and municipal life. Twelve months\nlater he comes forward as candidate in a parliamentary election. The\nquestion of his donations at once comes up for judgment, and in defence\nhe may plead that he was only invited to contest the seat after the\nmoney was given. How shall we determine what his motives were? Obviously\nby an appeal to his character. If he were well known as a wealthy person\nof recognized benevolent disposition, it would be argued that while his\ncandidature would inevitably reap benefit from his donations it was\nhighly probable that in giving the money he was only acting as one would\nexpect him to act. If, on the other hand, he was well known as a person\nof a mean and grasping disposition, it would be concluded that the\ndonation was an attempt to bribe the electorate, his giving the money so\nlong before being an intelligent anticipation of events. In either case\nwe should be appealing to character, and judging the man by what of his\ncharacter was known. Numerous instances of a like kind might be given,\nbut in every case it would be found that we infer from an action a\nparticular kind of motive, and that our judgment of the motive is\ndetermined by the character of the individual. This is so far the case\nthat we are apt to mistrust our own judgment when we find a benevolent\nperson doing what looks like a mean action, or a brave person committing\nwhat looks like an act of cowardice. While action is thus--so far as it\nis intentional--always the registration of motive, and motive the\nexpression of a preponderating desire, the desire, whether it be\nlicentious or chaste, noble or ignoble, is the outcome of character.\n\nDeterminism thus finds a fit and proper place for character in its\nphilosophy of things. It does not say that the fact or the consideration\nof character is irrelevant; on the contrary, it says it is\nall-important. And in saying this it challenges the position of the\nIndeterminist by the implication that it is only on lines of Determinism\nthat character is important or that it can be profitably cultivated. For\nconsider what is meant by saying that conduct implies and proceeds from\ncharacter. It clearly implies that a man acts in this or that manner\nbecause he has been in the habit of acting in this or that manner. We do\nnot gather grapes from thistles, and we do not experience noble actions\nfrom a depraved character. The actions of each are determined by the\ncharacter of each, and character is in turn the outcome of psychic\ninheritance, plus the effects of the interaction of organism and\nenvironment from the moment of birth onward. Personal characteristics,\nhonesty, courage, truthfulness, loyalty, thus imply strictly determined\nqualities. They are qualities determined by the nature of the organism.\nThey could not be expressed unless the surrounding circumstances were\nfavourable to their expression; but neither could they be manifested\nunless the character was of a particular order. Conduct is, in fact,\nalways a product of the two things.\n\nLet us also note that it is this determination of qualities that is\nimplied when we speak of a good or a bad, a strong or a weak character.\nWe should not call a man a good character who to-day fed a starving\nchild, and to-morrow kicked it from his doorstep. We should describe him\nas, at best, a person of an exceedingly variable disposition who\nsatisfied the caprice of the moment irrespective of the feelings and\nneeds of others. We should not call a person strong who withstood a\ntemptation one hour and yielded to it the next. He would be described as\nweak, and lacking the compelling force of a stable disposition. It is\nalso true that the moralization of character is the more complete as the\ndetermined nature of impulses is the more evident. Most people would not\nonly resent the imputation of having committed a mean action, they would\nalso resent the likelihood of their committing one. And in common\nspeech, and in fact, the highest tribute we can pay a man is to say\nthat a certain kind of action is beneath him. We say that we know A\nwould not have committed a theft, but we are quite willing to believe it\nof B. In each case we make no allowance for the operation of an\nundetermined will; such doubts as we have being connected with our\ninability to completely analyze the character in question. But our\nprognostications are strictly based upon our knowledge of character and\nupon the conviction that given a certain character and the operation of\nparticular motives, specific action follows with mathematical certainty.\n\nAnd this, as has previously been pointed out, gives the only reliable\nbasis for the cultivation of character. The whole aim of education,\nwhether it be that received in the home, in the school, or the larger\nand more protracted education of social life, has the aim and purpose of\nsecuring the spontaneous response of a particular action to a particular\nstimulus, or on the negative side that certain circumstances shall not\narouse desires of a socially unwelcome character. The phrase\n\"Patriotism\" thus serves to arouse a group of feelings that cluster\nround the state and social life. \"Home\" awakens its own groups of\ndomestic and parental feelings. \"Duty,\" again, covers a wider sphere,\nbut involves the same process. By instruction and by training, certain\nconditions, circumstances, words, or associations are made to call up\ntrains of connected feelings which, culminating in a desire,\nimperatively demand conduct along a given line. The more complete the\neducation, the stronger the desire; the stronger the desire, the more\ncertain the action. The more defective the education the less the\ncertainty with which we can count upon specific conduct. The man who\nacts to-day in one way and to-morrow in another way is not a man of\nstrong desires, so much as he is a man whose desires are undisciplined.\nThe man who acts with uniform certainty is not a man of weak desire, but\none whose desires run with strength and swiftness in a uniform\ndirection. And it is a curious feature of indeterministic psychology\nthat it should take as clear evidence of the subordination of desire to\n\"will\" the man whose desire is so strong as to preclude hesitation\nbetween it and action.\n\nThe whole of education, the whole of the discipline of life, is thus\nbased upon the determination of conduct by circumstances and character.\nIf the principle of cause and effect does not fully apply to conduct,\nall our training is so much waste of time. But it is because we cannot\nreally think of the past not influencing the present, once we bring the\ntwo into relation, that we, Determinist and Indeterminist alike, proceed\nwith our deterministic methods of training, and in this instance at\nleast wisdom is justified of her children.\n\nFinally, if the above be granted, can we longer attach meaning to the\nexpression that man forms his own character? Well, if it means that a\nman has any share in his psychic endowments, or that they being what\nthey are at any given time he could at that time act differently from\nthe way in which he does act, the expression is meaningless. It is\nabsolute nonsense. But in another sense it does convey an important\ntruth. We must, however, always bear in mind that in speaking of a\nman's character we are not dealing with two things, but with one thing.\nThe character is the man, the man is the character. Or to be quite\naccurate, body and mind, physical and psychical qualities together, form\nthe man, and any separation of these is for purposes of analysis and\nstudy only. If we say, then, that a man is master of his own character,\nor that a man may mould his own character, we do not imply the existence\nof an independent entity moulding or mastering something else. We are\nsaying no more than that every experience carries its resultant into the\nsum of character. Action generates habit, and habit means a more or less\npermanent modification of character. What a man is, is the outcome of\nwhat he has been, and a perception of this truth no more conflicts with\nthe principles of Determinism as above explained, than a stone being\nintercepted in its fall down the side of a hill by lodging against a\ntree is an infraction of the law of gravitation. In this sense, using\nfigurative language, a man may be said to be master of himself. What he\ndoes proceeds from himself; it is the expression of his character, and\nhis doing cuts deeper the grooves of habit, and so makes more certain\nthe performance of similar actions in the future. It is the fact of the\nmotive springing from character which determines the act that makes the\nman its author. And the knowledge of this supplies him with, not alone\nthe most powerful incentive towards the determination of his own\ncharacter, but, what is equally important, the only method whereby to\nfashion the character of others.\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\nA PROBLEM IN DETERMINISM.\n\n\nIf human feeling followed logical conviction the discussion of\nDeterminism might, so far as the present writer is concerned, be\nconsidered as finished. Ultimately this doubtless occurs; but in the\ninterim one has to reckon with the play of feeling, fashioned by\nlong-standing conviction, upon convictions that are of recent origin.\nThus it happens that many who realise the logical force of arguments\nsimilar to those hitherto advanced, find themselves in a state of\nfearfulness concerning the ultimate effect on human life of a convinced\nDeterminism. The conflict between feeling and conviction that exists in\ntheir own minds they naturally ascribe to others, and endow it with a\npermanency which mature consideration might show to be unwarranted. It\nwould indeed be strange and lamentable if the divorce between feeling\nand conviction--to adopt a popular classification--was not simply\nincidental to change, but was also an inexpugnable part of fundamental\naspects of human life.\n\nMr. A. J. Balfour has indeed gone so far as to suggest,[9] as a theory\nto meet this phenomenon, that the immediate consciousness of our\nactions being determined would be so paralyzing to action, that Nature\nhas by \"a process of selective slaughter\" made a consciousness of this\ncharacter a practical impossibility. But it would seem that the fact of\na consciousness of determination developing at all affords strong\npresumptions in favour of the belief that no such selective slaughter is\nreally necessary to the maintenance of vital social relations. Mr.\nBalfour's argument might have some weight against Fatalism, which says\nthat what is to be will be in despite of all that may be done to prevent\nits occurrence; but we are on different ground with a theory which makes\nwhat _I_ do part of the sequence that issues in a particular result.\n\n    [9] _International Journal of Ethics_, vol. iv.\n    pp. 421-422.\n\nThe problem is put very plainly in the following two quotations. The\nfirst is from a private source, written by one who fears the\nconsequences of Determinism on conduct. The writer says:--\n\n    \"In a moral crisis, and with the consciousness of a strong\n    tendency in the direction of what is felt to be wrong, is there\n    no danger of this desire gaining further strength and becoming\n    the predominant feeling by accepting Determinism, causing a\n    weakened sense of responsibility, besides providing a convenient\n    excuse for giving way to the lower instead of the higher? Thus\n    in a question of alternatives is it not conceivable that by\n    dwelling on this thought, the agent is resisting possibilities\n    which might otherwise have a different effect had Determinism no\n    advocacy and with a different competitive factor to oppose?\n    This, it seems to me, is what the Indeterminist fears, and I\n    think it must be admitted not without some reason.\"\n\nThe second comes from Mr. F. W. Headley's work, _Life and Evolution_.\nMr. Headley, after discussing the evolution of mind, and after admitting\nthe impregnable nature of the determinist position, says that\nnotwithstanding the evidence to the contrary we cannot help cherishing\nthe belief that we are in some sense \"free,\" and adds:--\n\n    \"For practical purposes what is wanted is not free-will but a\n    working belief in it. When the time for decision and for action\n    comes, a man must feel that he is free to choose or he is lost.\n    And this working belief in free-will, even though the thing\n    itself be proved to be a phantom and an illusion, is the\n    inalienable property of every healthy man.\"\n\nBoth these criticisms might be met by the method of analysing the use\nmade of certain leading words. For example, the Determinist would quite\nagree that for conduct to be fruitful a man must feel that he is free to\nchoose. But unless his freedom consists in liberty to obey the dictates\nof his real nature, the term is without significance. The fact of\nchoice, as has been pointed out, is common ground for both Determinist\nand Indeterminist. The real question is whether the choice itself is\ndetermined or not. What a man needs to feel is that his choice is\ndecisive, and that it is based upon an impartial review of the\nalternatives as they appear to him. Determinism makes full allowance for\nthis; it is Indeterminism which in denying the application of causality\nto the will substantially asserts that the whole training of a lifetime\nmay be counteracted by the decision of an uncaused will, and so renders\nthe whole process unintelligible. And as to Determinism causing a\nweakened sense of responsibility, surely one may fairly argue that the\nconsciousness of the cumulative force of practice may well serve to warn\nus against yielding to a vicious propensity, and so strengthen the\nfeeling of resistance to it. There could hardly be conceived a stronger\nincentive to right action, or to struggle against unwholesome desires,\nthan this conviction. Moreover, the practical testimony of those who are\nconvinced Determinists is all in this direction. The fears are expressed\nby those whose advocacy of Determinism is at best of but a lukewarm\ndescription.\n\nBut in order that the full weight of the difficulty may be realized let\nus put the matter in a still more forcible form. Determinism, it is to\nbe remembered, is an attempt to apply to mind and morals that principle\nof causation which is of universal application in the physical world,\nand where it has proved itself so fruitful and suggestive. On this\nprinciple all that is flows from all that has been in such a way that,\ngiven a complete knowledge of the capacities of all the forces in\noperation at any one time, the world a century hence could be predicted\nwith mathematical accuracy. So likewise with human nature. Human conduct\nbeing due to the interaction of organism with environment, our\ninability to say what a person will do under given circumstances is no\nmore than an expression of our ignorance of the quantitative and\nqualitative value of the forces operating. The possibilities of action\nare co-extensive with the actualities of ignorance. There is no break in\nthe working of causation, no matter what the sphere of existence with\nwhich we happen to be dealing.\n\nIt is at this point that Determinism lands one in what is apparently an\nethical _cul-de-sac_. If all that is, is the necessary result of all\nthat has been, if nothing different from what does occur could occur,\nwhat is the meaning of the sense of power over circumstances that we\npossess? And why urge people to make an effort in this or that direction\nif everything, including the effort or its absence, is determined? I may\nflatter myself with the notion that things are better because of some\naction of mine. But beyond the mere fact that my action is part of the\nstream of causation, all else is a trick of the imagination. My conduct\nis, all the time, the result of the co-operation of past conditions with\npresent circumstances. To say that praise or blame of other people's\nconduct, or approval or disapproval of my own conduct, is itself a\ndeterminative force, hardly meets the point. For these, too, are part of\nthe determined order.\n\nIt might be urged that the knowledge that by exciting certain feelings\nothers are proportionately weakened operates in the direction of\nimprovement. Quite so; and as a mere description of what occurs the\nstatement is correct. But to the Determinist there is no \"I\" that\ndetermines which feeling or cluster of feelings shall predominate. \"I\"\nam the expression of the succession and co-ordination of mental states;\nwe are still within a closed circle of causation. Whether I am good or\nbad, wise or unwise, I shall be what I must be, and nothing else; do as\nI must do, and no more.\n\nThis is, I think, putting the Indeterminists' case as strongly as it can\nbe put. How is the Determinist to meet the attack? A common retort is\nthat all this being granted things remain as they were. If the criminal\naction is determined so is that of the judge, and so no harm is done. We\nshall go on praising or blaming, punishing or rewarding, doing or not\ndoing, exactly as before, simply because we cannot do otherwise. This,\nhowever, while effective as a mere retort, is not very satisfactory as\nan answer. For it neither explains the sense of power people feel they\npossess, nor does it meet the criticism raised. On the one hand there is\nthe fact that character does undergo modification, and the conviction\nthat _my_ effort does play a part in securing that modification. And\nwith this there goes the feeling--with some--that if everything, mental\nstates and dispositions included, is part of an unbroken and unbreakable\norder, why delude ourselves with the notion of personal power? Why not\nlet things drift? And on the other hand there is the conviction that\nscientific Determinism holds the field. The state of mind is there, and\nit is fairly expressed in the two quotations already given; particularly\nin Mr. Headley's statement that we ought to act as though Free-Will were\na fact, even though we know it to be otherwise. The difficulty is\nthere, and one must admit that it is not always fairly faced by writers\non Determinism. An appeal is made to man's moral sense, and this, while\nlegitimate enough in some connections, is quite irrelevant in this. Or\nit is said that a knowledge of the causational nature of morals should\nplace people on their guard against encouraging harmful states of mind.\nThis is also good counsel, but it clearly does not touch the point that,\nwhether I encourage harmful or beneficial states of mind, it is all part\nof the determined order of things.\n\nAs an example of what has been said we may take a passage from John\nStuart Mill. In his criticism of Sir William Hamilton, Mill remarks:--\n\n    \"The true doctrine of the causation of human actions maintains\n    ... that not only our conduct, but our character, is, in part,\n    amenable to our will; that we can by employing the proper means,\n    improve our character; and that if our character is such that\n    while it remains what it is, it necessitates us to do wrong, it\n    will be just to apply motives which will necessitate us to\n    strive for its improvement, and so emancipate ourselves from the\n    other necessity; in other words, we are under a moral obligation\n    to seek the improvement of our moral character.\"\n\nAdmirable as is this passage it is clearly no reply to the criticism\nthat whether we seek moral improvement or not, either course is as much\nnecessitated as is the character that needs improving. To give a real\nrelevance to this passage we should have to assume the existence of an\nego outside the stream of causation deciding at what precise point it\nshould exert a determining influence. That so clear a thinker as Mill\nshould have overlooked this gives point to what has been said as to\nwriters on Determinism having failed to squarely face the issue.\n\nA more valid reply to Mr. Headley's position would be that so long as we\nbelieve a theory to be sound there is no real gain in acting as though\nwe were convinced otherwise. Granting that an illusion may have its\nuses, it can only be of service so long as we do not know it to be an\nillusion. A mirage of cool trees and sparkling pools may inspire tired\ntravellers in a desert to renewed efforts of locomotion. But if they\n_know_ it to be a mirage it only serves to discourage effort. And once\nwe believe in Determinism, our right course, and our only profitable\ncourse, is to face all the issues as courageously as may be. Not that a\ncorrect reading of Determinism leads to our sitting with folded hands\nlacking the spirit to strive for better things.\n\nIt may be that certain people so read Determinism, but one cannot\nreasonably hold a theory responsible for every misreading of it that\nexists. Theologians in particular would be in a very uncomfortable\nposition if this rule were adopted. A theory is responsible for such\nconclusions or consequences as are logically deducible therefrom, but no\nmore. And what we are now concerned with is, first, will Determinism,\nproperly understood, really have the effect feared; and, second, is it\npossible for Determinism to account adequately for the belief that it is\npossible to modify other people's character, and in so doing modify our\nown? In Mill's words, can we exchange the necessity to do wrong for the\nnecessity to do right? I believe that a satisfactory reply can be given\nto both questions.\n\nIn the first place we have to get rid of the overpowering influence of\nan atomistic psychology. A very little study of works on\npsychology--particularly of the more orthodox schools--is enough to show\nthat the social medium as a factor determining man's mental nature has\nbeen either ignored, or given a quite subordinate position. Because in\nstudying the mental qualities of man we are necessarily dealing with an\nindividual brain, it has been assumed that mental phenomena may be\nexplained with no more than a casual reference to anything beyond the\nindividual organism. This assumption may be sound so long as we are\ndealing with mind as the function of definitely localized organs, or if\nwe are merely describing mental phenomena. It is when we pass to the\ncontents of the mind, and study the significance of mental states, or\nenquire how they came into existence, that we find the atomistic\npsychology breaking down, and we find ourselves compelled to deal with\nmind as a psycho-sociologic phenomenon, with its relation to the social\nmedium. Then we discover that it is man's social relationships, the\ninnumerable generations of reaction between individual organisms and the\nsocial medium, which supply the key to problems that are otherwise\ninsoluble.\n\nIt has already been pointed out that the whole significance of morality\nis social. If we restrict ourselves to the individual no adequate\nexplanation can be given of such qualities as sympathy, honesty,\ntruthfulness, chastity, kindness, etc. Separate it in thought from the\nsocial medium and morality becomes meaningless. Properly studied,\npsychology yields much the same result. When we get beyond the\napprehension of such fundamental qualities as time and space, heat and\ncold, colour and sound, the contour of man's mind, so to speak, is a\nsocial product. His feelings and impulses imply a social medium as\nsurely as does morality. From this point of view the phrase \"Social\nsense\" is no mere figure of speech; it is the expression of a pregnant\ntruth, the statement of something as real as any scientific law with\nwhich we are acquainted.\n\nFor the essence of a scientific law is the expression of a relation. The\nlaw of gravitation, for instance, formulates the relations existing\nbetween particles of matter. If there existed but one particle of matter\nin the universe gravitation would be a meaningless term. Introduce a\nsecond particle, and a relation is established between the two, and the\nmaterial for a scientific \"law\" created. In the same way a description\nof individual human qualities is fundamentally a statement of the\nrelations existing between individuals living in groups; and any attempt\nto understand human nature without considering these relations is as\ncertainly foredoomed to failure as would be the attempt to study a\nparticle of matter apart from the operation of all known forces. The\nindividual as he exists to-day is not something that exists apart from\nthe social forces; he is an expression, an epitome, of all their past\nand present operations. The really essential thing in the study of human\nnature is not so much the discrete individual A or B, but the relations\nexisting between A and B. It is these which make each end of the term\nwhat it is--determines the individual's language, feelings, thoughts,\nand character.\n\nIt is along these lines that we have to look for an explanation of the\nfeeling that we can initiate a reform in character, and of a sense of\npower in determining events. We start with a sense of power over the\ncourse of events--which is interpreted as the equivalent of our ability\nto initiate absolutely a change in our own character or in that of\nothers. But a little reflection convinces us--particularly if we call\nourselves Determinists--that this interpretation is quite erroneous. An\nabsolute beginning is no more conceivable in the mental or moral sphere\nthan it is in the physical world. The sum of all that is is the product\nof all that has been, and in this, desires, feelings, dispositions are\nincluded no less than physical properties. Now, curiously enough, the\nconviction that an absolute change in character can be initiated exists\nwith much greater strength in regard to oneself than it does with regard\nto others. It is easier to observe others than to analyze one's own\nmental states, with the result that most people can more readily realize\nthat what others do is the product of their heredity and their\nenvironment than they can realize it in their own case. Of course,\nreflection shows that the same principle applies in both directions, but\nwe are here dealing with moods rather than with carefully reasoned out\nconvictions. And, generally speaking, while we _feel_ ourselves masters\nof our own fate, we only suspect a similar strength in others. But each\none realizes, and with increasing vividness, the power he possesses in\nmodifying other people's character by a change of circumstances. We see\nthis illustrated by the increased emphasis placed upon the importance of\nbetter sanitation, better housing, better conditions of labour, and of\nan improved education. More from observing others than by studying\nourselves we see how modifiable a thing human nature is. We see how\ncharacter is modified by an alteration of the material environment, and\nwe also note our own individual function as a determinative influence in\neffecting this modification.\n\nNow I quite fail to see that there is in this sense of power over\ncircumstances anything more than a recognition of our own efforts as\npart of the determinative sequence. The added factor to the general\ncausative series is the consciousness of man himself. We are conscious,\nmore or less clearly, of our place in the sequence; we are able to\nrecognize and study our relations to past and present events, and our\nprobable relation to future ones. We see ourselves as so many efficient\ncauses of those social reactions that go to make up a science of\nsociology, and it is this which gives us a sense of _power_ of\ndetermining events. I say \"power\" because \"freedom\" is an altogether\ndifferent thing. The question of whether we are free to determine\nevents is, as I have shown, meaningless when applied to scientific\nmatters. But the question of whether or not we have the _power_ of\ndetermining events may be answered in the affirmative--an answer not in\nthe least affected by the belief that this power is strictly conditioned\nby past and present circumstances. The sense of power is real, and it\nexpresses a fact, even though the fact be an inevitable one. We are all\nshapers of each other's character, moulders of each other's destiny. The\nrecognition of our power to act in this relation is not contrary to\nDeterminism, Determinism implies it. It is this which gives a real\nmeaning to the expression \"social sense.\" For the social sense can have\nno other meaning or value than as a recognition of the action of one\nindividual upon another, which, as in the case of a chemical compound,\nresults in the production of something that is not given by the mere sum\nof individual qualities.\n\nSo, too, do we get by this method a higher meaning to the word\n\"freedom.\" In an earlier part of this essay it was pointed out that\n\"freedom\" was of social origin and application. Its essential meaning is\nliberty to carry out the impulses of one's nature unrestricted by the\ncoercive action of one's fellows. But there is a higher and a more\npositive meaning than this. Man is a social animal; his character is a\nsocial product. The purely human qualities not only lose their value\nwhen divorced from social relationships, it is these relationships that\nprovide the only medium for their activity. To say that a person is\nfree to express moral qualities in the absence of his fellows is\nmeaningless, since it is only in their presence that the manifestation\nof them is possible. It is the intercourse of man with man that gives to\neach whatever freedom he possesses. The restraints imposed upon each\nmember of a society in the interests of all are not a curtailing of\nhuman freedom but the condition of its realization. To chafe against\nthem is, to use Kant's famous illustration, as unreasonable as a bird's\nrevolt against the opposing medium or atmosphere, in ignorance of the\nfact that it is this opposition which makes flight possible. The only\ngenuine freedom that man can know and enjoy is that provided by social\nlife. Human freedom has its origin in social relationships, and to these\nwe are ultimately driven to discover its meaning and significance.\n\nSo far, then, the sense of power in controlling events which each\npossesses presents no insuperable difficulty to a theory of Determinism.\nOnly one other point remains on which to say a word, and that is whether\na conviction of the causative character of human action would lead to a\nweakening of effort or to moral depression. Why should it have this\neffect? It is curious that those who fear this result seem to have only\nin mind the tendencies to wrongdoing. But if it operates at all it must\noperate in all directions, and this would certainly strengthen good\nresolutions as well as bad ones. And even though no more were to be\nsaid, this would justify the assertion that merit and demerit would\nremain unaffected, and that any harm done in one direction would be\ncompensated by good done in another. But another important\nconsideration is to be added. This is that while a consciousness of the\npower of habit acts as a retarding influence on wrongdoing, it has an\naccelerating influence in the reverse direction--that is, unless we\nassume a character acting with the deliberate intention of cultivating\nan evil disposition. Besides, the really vicious characters are not\nusually given to reflecting upon the origin and nature of their desires,\nand are therefore quite unaffected by any theory of volition; while\nthose who are given to such reflection are not usually of a vicious\ndisposition. We are really crediting the vicious with a degree of\nintelligence and reflective power quite unwarranted by the facts of the\ncase.\n\nFinally, the criticism with which I have been dealing takes a too purely\nintellectual view of conduct. It does not allow for the operation of\nsympathy, or for the power of social reaction. And these are not only\nreal, they are of vital importance when we are dealing with human\nnature. For man cannot, even if he would, remain purely passive. The\npower of sympathy, the desire for social intercourse, the invincible\nfeeling that in some way he is vitally concerned with the well-being of\nthe society to which he belongs, these are always in operation, even\nthough their degree of intensity varies with different individuals. We\ncannot possibly isolate man in considering conduct, because his whole\nnature has been moulded by social intercourse, and craves continuously\nfor social approval. And it is such feelings that are powerful agents in\nthe immediate determination of conduct. The mental perception of the\ncauses and conditions of conduct are feeble by comparison and can only\noperate with relative slowness. And in their operation they are all the\ntime checked and modified by the fundamental requirements of the social\nstructure.\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\nENVIRONMENT.\n\n\nIn the course of the foregoing pages we have made frequent reference to\n\"environment,\" without the word being precisely described or defined.\nThe subject was of too great importance to be dismissed with a bald\ndefinition, and to have dealt with it earlier at suitable length might\nhave diverted attention from the main argument. But so much turns on a\ncorrect understanding of the word \"environment\" that a discussion of\nDeterminism would be incomplete that failed to fix its meaning with a\nfair degree of accuracy.\n\nA very casual study of anti-deterministic literature is enough to show\nthat a great deal of the opposition to a scientific interpretation of\nhuman conduct has its origin in a quite wrong conception of what the\ndeterminist has in mind when he speaks of the part played by the\nenvironment in the determination of conduct. Even writings ostensibly\ndeterministic in aim have not been free from blame in their use of the\nword. Thus on the one hand we find it said that man is a creature of his\nenvironment, and by \"environment\" we are to understand, by implication,\nonly the material forces, which are assumed to somehow drive man hither\nand thither in much the same way as a tennis ball is driven this way or\nthat by the player. Against this there has been a natural and, let it\nbe said, a justifiable reaction. Expressed in this way it was felt that\nman was not at the mercy of his surroundings. It was felt that, whatever\nbe its nature the organism does exert some influence over environmental\nforces, and that it is not a merely passive register of their\noperations. Neither of these views expresses the whole truth. It may be\nthat each expresses a truth, and it is still more probable, as is the\ncase with some terms already examined, that the confusion arises from a\nmis-use of the language employed.\n\nTo-day we are all familiar with the dictum that the maintenance of life\nis a question of adaptation to environment--a truth that is equally\napplicable to ideas and institutions. But the general truth admitted,\nthere is next required a consideration of its application to the\nparticular subject in hand, and in connection with our present topic\nsome attention must be paid both to the nature of the organism and of\nthe environment with which we are dealing. We then discover that not\nalone are we dealing with an organism which is extremely plastic in its\nnature, but that the environment may also vary within very wide limits.\nOn the one side, and in relation to man, we may be dealing with an\nenvironment that is mainly physical in character, or it may be a\ncombination of physical conditions and biological forces, or, yet again,\nit may be predominantly psychological in its nature. And, on the other\nhand, the reaction of the organism on the environment may vary from\nextreme feebleness to an almost overpowering determination. We may,\nindeed, anticipate our argument by saying that one of the chief features\nof human progress is the gradual subordination of the material\nenvironment to the psychologic powers of man.\n\nIf, now, we contrast the environment of an uncivilized with that of a\ncivilized people the difference is striking. The environment of an\nuncivilized race will consist of the immediate physical surroundings,\nthe animals that are hunted for sport or killed for food, and a\ncomparatively meagre stock of customs and traditions. The environment of\na modern European will add to the physical surroundings an enormously\nenlarged mass of social traditions and customs, an extensive literature,\ncontact with numerous other societies in various stages of culture, and\nrelations, more or less obscure, to a vast literary and social past. The\nenvironment thus includes not merely the living, but also the dead.\nRoman law, Greek philosophy, Eastern religious ideas, etc., all affect\nthe twentieth century European. It would require a lengthy essay to\nenumerate all the influences that dominate the life of a particular\npeople of to-day, but enough has been said to illustrate the truth that\nwe must use the term \"environment\" so as to include _all_ that affects\nthe organism. And when this is done it soon becomes clear that by the\nvery growth of humanity the influence of the physical portion of the\nenvironment becomes of relatively less importance with the progress of\nthe race--it is the subordination of the physical environment that is\nthe principal condition of the advance of civilization.\n\nBut even when our conception of the meaning of environment has been thus\nenlarged, we need to be on our guard against misconception from another\nside. For the environment is only one factor in the problem; the\norganism is another, and the relative importance of the two is a matter\nof vital significance. We may still make the mistake of treating the\nenvironment as active and the organism as passive. This would be a\nsimilar mistake to that which is made when morality and religion are\ntreated as being no more than a reflection of economic conditions. The\naction of the environment is given a place of first importance, while\nthe reaction of the organism on its environment is treated as a\nnegligible quantity. Historically this may be taken as a reaction\nagainst the extreme spiritualistic view which, in upholding, a theory of\nFree-Will made no allowance for the influence of the surroundings. An\nextreme view in one direction usually sets up an extreme view by way of\nopposition, and it must be confessed that in social philosophy the power\nof the environment has often been made omnipotent. The medium has been\npresented as active and the organism as passive. Different results occur\nbecause the susceptibilities of organisms vary. Good or bad influences\naffect individuals differently for much the same reason that soils\ndiffer in their capacity for absorbing water.\n\nFrom the scientific and the philosophic side this conception derived a\ncertain adventitious strength. In the first place there was the now\ngenerally discarded psychology which taught that the individual mind\nwas as a sheet of blank paper on which experience inscribed its lessons.\nAnd in the second place the growth of biological science brought out\nwith great distinctness the influence of the environment on organic\nlife. It was very plain that the quality and quantity of the food\nsupply, the action of air and light, and other purely environmental\nforces exercised an important influence. In the plant world it was seen\nhow much could be effected by a mere change of habitat. In the animal\nworld markings and structure seemed to have an obvious reference to the\nnature of the environment. It, therefore, seemed nothing but a logical\ninference to extend the same reasoning to man, and treat not only his\nstructure but his mental capacities as being the outcome of the same\nkind of correspondence.\n\nBut a too rigid application of biological principles lands one in error.\nSociety is more than a mere biological group, and no reasoning that\nproceeds on the assumption that it is no more than that can avoid\nconfusion. And we certainly cannot square the facts with a theory which\ntreats the human organism as passive under the operation of\nenvironmental forces. The conviction that man plays a positive part in\nlife is general, powerful, and, I think, justifiable. But if what _I_ do\nis at any time the product of the environmental forces, physical and\nother, there does not seem any room for _me_ as an active participant.\nAnd the facts seem to demand that the individual should appear in some\ncapacity other than that of representing the total in an environmental\ncalculation. This would leave man with no other function than that of a\nbilliard ball pushed over a table by rival players. Given the force\nexerted by the player, added to the size, weight, and position of the\nball, and the product of the combination gives us the correct answer.\nBut this kind of calculation will not do in the case of man. Here we\nmust allow, in addition to external influences, the positive action of\nman on his surroundings. The conception of the organism as a plexus of\nforces capable of this reaction is, indeed, vital to our conception of a\nliving being. Granted that in either case, that of the billiard ball and\nthat of the man, the result expresses the exact sum of all the forces\naiding at the time, there still remains an important distinction in the\ntwo cases. Whether the billiard ball is struck by a professional player\nor by an amateur, provided it be struck in a particular way the result\nis in both cases identical. An identity of result is produced by an\nidentity of external conditions.\n\nWith the human organism--with, in fact, any organism--this rule does not\napply. In any two cases the external factors may be identical, but the\nresults may be entirely different. A temptation that leaves one\nunaffected may prove overpowering with another. Exactly the same\nconditions of food, occupation, residence, and social position may\nco-exist with entirely different effects on the organism. These\ndifferences will be manifested from the earliest years and are a direct\nconsequence of the positive reaction of the organism on its environment,\na reaction that is more profound in the case of man than in that of any\nother animal.\n\nTo put the matter briefly. In the case of the billiard player the ball\nremains a constant factor in a problem in which external conditions\nrepresent a variant. In the case of man and his environment we are\ndealing with two sets of factors, neither of which is constant and one\nof which--the human one--varies enormously. And the reaction of man on\nhis environment becomes so great as to result in its practical\ntransformation.\n\nIt may, of course, be urged that all this is covered and allowed for by\nheredity. This may be so, but I am arguing against those who while\nrecognizing heredity fail to make adequate allowance for its operations.\nOr it may be said that \"environment\" covers all forces, including\nheredity. But in that case the distinction between organism and\nenvironment is useless--in fact, it disappears. If, however, the\ndistinction between the two is retained, our theorizing must give full\nappreciation to both. And in that case we must not fail to allow for the\ntransforming power of man over his surroundings. Nor must we overlook\nanother and a very vital fact, that in a large measure the environment\nto which civilised mankind must adapt itself is largely a thing of human\ncreation.\n\nViewed as merely external circumstances, the physical environment of man\nremains constant. At any rate, such changes as do take place occur with\nsuch slowness that for generations we may safely deal with them as\nunchanged. The dissipation of the heat of the earth may be a fact, but\nno one takes this into account in dealing with the probabilities of\nhuman life during the next few generations. On the other hand, the\norganism represents the cumulative, and consequently, ever-changing\npower of human nature, and it is this that gives us the central fact of\nhuman civilization. Whether acquired characters be inherited or not may\nbe still an open question, but in any case there is no denying that\ncapacity is heritable, and natural selection will move along the line of\nfavouring the survival of that capacity which is most serviceable. And\nhow does increasing capacity express itself? It can do so only in the\ndirection of giving man a greater ability to control and mould to his\nown uses the material environment in which he is placed. Looking at the\ncourse of social evolution, we see this increased and increasing\ncapacity expressed in art, industries, inventions, etc., all of which\nmean in effect a transformation of the material surroundings and their\nsubjugation to the needs of man. These inventions, etc., not only\ninvolve a transformation of the existing environment; they also mean the\ncreating of a new environment for succeeding generations. Each\nmechanical invention, for example, is dependent upon the inventions and\ndiscoveries that have preceded it, and to that extent it is dependent\nupon the environment. But each invention places a new power in the hands\nof man, and so enables him to still further modify and control his\nsurroundings. Human heredity is thus expressed in capacity as\nrepresented by a definite organic structure. This is one factor in the\nphenomenon of social evolution. The other factor is the environment in\nwhich the organism is placed and to which it responds. The two factors,\norganism and environment, remain constant throughout the animal world.\nIt is when we come to deal with human society specifically, that we find\na radical change in the nature of the environment to be considered.\nGranted that some influence must always be exerted by the purely\nmaterial conditions, the fact remains that they become relatively less\npowerful with the advance of civilization. The development of\nagriculture, the invention of weapons and tools, the discovery of the\nnature of natural forces, all help to give the developing human a\ngreater measure of control over both the physical and organic portion of\nhis environment, and to manifest a measure of independence concerning\nthem.\n\nBut the supreme and peculiar feature of human society is the creation of\na new medium to which the individual must adapt himself. By means of\nlanguage and writing the knowledge and experience gained by one\ngeneration are transmitted to its successors. The human intellect\nelaborates definite theories concerning the universe of which it forms a\npart. These theories and beliefs form and fashion institutions that are\ntransmitted from generation to generation. Language stereotypes\ntradition and slowly creates a literature. In this way a new medium is\ncreated which is psychological in character, and ultimately dominates\nlife.\n\nWhen a dog is about to rest it often tramps round and round the spot on\nwhich it is to recline. Naturalists explain this as the survival of an\ninstinct which in the wild dog served the useful function of guarding it\nagainst the presence of harmful creatures hidden in the grass. The\ndomesticated dog is here exhibiting an instinct that belongs to a past\ncondition of life. But man has few instincts--fewer perhaps than any\nother animal. In their stead he has a greater plasticity of nature, and\na more educable intelligence. And it is in the exercise of this educable\norganization that the psychological medium as expressed in art,\nliterature, and inventions, plays its part for good and ill. So soon as\nhe is able to understand, the individual finds himself surrounded by\nideas concerning home, the State, the monarchy, the Church, and a\nthousand and one other things. He is brought into relation with a vast\nliterature, and also with the play of myriads of minds similar to his\nown. Henceforth, it is this environment with which he has chiefly to\nreckon in terms of either harmony or conflict. He can no more escape it\nthan he can dispense with the atmosphere. It is part and parcel of\nhimself. Without it he ceases to be himself; for if we cut away from man\nall that this psychological heredity gives him he ceases to be man as we\nunderstand the term. He becomes a mere animated object.\n\nFinally, we have to note that this psychological environment is\ncumulative in character as being is all powerful in its influence. By\nits own unceasing activity humanity is continually triumphing over the\ndifficulties of its material environment and adding to the complexity\nand power of its mental one. Inevitably the environment thus becomes\nmore psychic in character and more powerful in its operations. We may\novercome the difficulties of climate, poor soil, geographical position,\netc., but it is impossible to ignore the great and growing pressure of\nthis past mental life of the race. It defies all attempts at material\ncoercion, and gradually transforms a material medium into what is\nsubstantially a psychological one. Man cannot escape the domination of\nhis own mental life. Its unfettered exercise supplies the only freedom\nhe is capable of realising, as it constitutes the source of his\ninfluence as a link in the causative process of determining his own\ndestiny and moulding that of his successors.\n\n\n\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nTranscriber's Note:\n\n\nMinor punctuation errors have been corrected without note. Inconsistent\nhyphenation has not been changed. In the plain-text version, decorative\nitalics have not been represented.\n\nThe following corrections were made to the text:\n\np. 17: contantly to constantly (constantly enlarging and more\ncomprehensive)\n\np. 24: admiting to admitting (even while admitting)\n\np. 24: which which to with which (with which it is used)\n\np. 28 (Footnote 2): contraint to constraint (Freedom and constraint)\n\np. 30 (Footnote 3): acton to action (all volitional action)\n\np. 34: Maudesley to Maudsley (says Dr. Maudsley)\n\np. 41: missing \"from\" added (shall be expelled from our)\n\np. 58: occured to occurred (occurred in the past)\n\np. 86: absurdem to absurdum (argument _ad absurdum_)\n\np. 98: condiitons to conditions (certain conditions, circumstances)\n\np. 107: Hamiliton to Hamilton (Sir William Hamilton)\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------","title":"Determinism or Free-Will?","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":32075}