This seems quite obvious. Nevertheless, down to the present day, the main attacks of the opponents of freedom are directed only [3]against freedom of choice. Even Herbert Spencer, in fact, whose doctrines13 are gaining ground daily, says, “That every one is at liberty to desire or not to desire, which is the real proposition involved in the dogma of free will, is negatived as much by the analysis of consciousness, as by the contents of the preceding chapters” (The Principles of Psychology14, Part IV, chap. ix, par5. 219). Others, too, start from the same point of view in combating the concept of free will. The germs of all the relevant arguments are to be found as early as Spinoza. All that he brought forward in clear and simple language against the idea of freedom has since been repeated times without number, but as a rule enveloped15 in the most sophisticated arguments, so that it is difficult to recognise the straightforward16 train of thought which is alone in question. Spinoza writes in a letter of October or November, 1674, “I call a thing free which exists and acts from the pure necessity of its nature, and I call that unfree, of which the being and action are precisely17 and fixedly19 determined20 by something else. Thus, e.g., God, though necessary, is free because he exists only through the necessity of his own nature. Similarly, God knows himself and all else as free, because it follows solely21 from the necessity of his nature that he knows all. You see, therefore, that for me freedom consists not in free decision, but in free necessity. [4]
“But let us come down to created things which are all determined by external causes to exist and to act in a fixed18 and definite manner. To perceive this more clearly, let us imagine a perfectly simple case. A stone, for example, receives from an external cause acting22 upon it a certain quantity of motion, by reason of which it necessarily continues to move, after the impact of the external cause has ceased. The continued motion of the stone is due to compulsion, not to the necessity of its own nature, because it requires to be defined by the impact of an external cause. What is true here for the stone is true also for every other particular thing, however complicated and many-sided it may be, namely, that everything is necessarily determined by external causes to exist and to act in a fixed and definite manner.
“Now, pray, assume that this stone during its motion thinks and knows that it is striving to the best of its power to continue in motion. This stone which is conscious only of its striving and is by no means indifferent, will believe that it is absolutely free, and that it continues in motion for no other reason than its own will to continue. Now this is that human freedom which everybody claims to possess and which consists in nothing but this, that men are conscious of their desires, but ignorant of the causes by which they are determined. Thus the child believes that he desires milk of his own free will, the angry boy [5]regards his desire for vengeance23 as free, and the coward his desire for flight. Again, the drunken man believes that he says of his own free will what, sober again, he would fain have left unsaid, and as this prejudice is innate24 in all men, it is difficult to free oneself from it. For, although experience teaches us often enough that man least of all can temper his desires, and that, moved by conflicting passions, he perceives the better and pursues the worse, yet he considers himself free because there are some things which he desires less strongly, and some desires which he can easily inhibit25 through the recollection of something else which it is often possible to recall.”
It is easy to detect the fundamental error of this view, because it is so clearly and definitely expressed. The same necessity by which a stone makes a definite movement as the result of an impact, is said to compel a man to carry out an action when impelled27 thereto by any cause. It is only because man is conscious of his action, that he thinks himself to be its originator. In doing so, he overlooks the fact that he is driven by a cause which he must obey unconditionally28. The error in this train of thought is easily brought to light. Spinoza, and all who think like him, overlook the fact that man not only is conscious of his action, but also may become conscious of the cause which guides him. Anyone can see that a child is not free when he desires milk, nor the drunken man when he says things [6]which he later regrets. Neither knows anything of the causes, working deep within their organisms, which exercise irresistible29 control over them. But is it justifiable30 to lump together actions of this kind with those in which a man is conscious not only of his actions but also of their causes? Are the actions of men really all of one kind? Should the act of a soldier on the field of battle, of the scientific researcher in his laboratory, of the statesman in the most complicated diplomatic negotiations31, be placed on the same level with that of the child when he desires milk? It is, no doubt, true that it is best to seek the solution of a problem where the conditions are simplest. But lack of ability to see distinctions has before now caused endless confusion. There is, after all, a profound difference between knowing the motive32 of my action and not knowing it. At first sight this seems a self-evident truth. And yet the opponents of freedom never ask themselves whether a motive of action which I recognise and understand, is to be regarded as compulsory33 for me in the same sense as the organic process which causes the child to cry for milk.
Eduard von Hartmann, in his Ph?nomenologie des Sittlichen Bewusstseins (p. 451), asserts that the human will depends on two chief factors, the motives34 and the character. If one regards men as all alike, or at any rate the differences between them as negligible, then their will appears as determined from without, viz., by [7]the circumstances with which they come in contact. But if one bears in mind that men adopt an idea as the motive of their conduct, only if their character is such that this idea arouses a desire in them, then men appear as determined from within and not from without. Now, because an idea, given to us from without, must first in accordance with our characters be adopted as a motive, men believe that they are free, i.e., independent of external influences. The truth, however, according to Eduard von Hartmann, is that “even though we must first adopt an idea as a motive, we do so not arbitrarily, but according to the disposition35 of our characters, that is, we are anything but free.” Here again the difference between motives, which I allow to influence me only after I have consciously made them my own, and those which I follow without any clear knowledge of them, is absolutely ignored.
This leads us straight to the standpoint from which the subject will be treated here. Have we any right to consider the question of the freedom of the will by itself at all? And if not, with what other question must it necessarily be connected?
If there is a difference between conscious and unconscious motives of action, then the action in which the former issue should be judged differently from the action which springs from blind impulse. Hence our first question will concern this difference, and on the result of this inquiry36 will depend what attitude we [8]ought to take up towards the question of freedom proper.
What does it mean to have knowledge of the motives of one’s actions? Too little attention has been paid to this question, because, unfortunately, man who is an indivisible whole has always been torn asunder37 by us. The agent has been divorced from the knower, whilst he who matters more than everything else, viz., the man who acts because he knows, has been utterly38 overlooked.
It is said that man is free when he is controlled only by his reason, and not by his animal passions. Or, again, that to be free means to be able to determine one’s life and action by purposes and deliberate decisions.
Nothing is gained by assertions of this sort. For the question is just whether reason, purposes, and decisions exercise the same kind of compulsion over a man as his animal passions. If, without my doing, a rational decision occurs in me with the same necessity with which hunger and thirst happen to me, then I must needs obey it, and my freedom is an illusion.
Another form of expression runs: to be free means, not that we can will what we will, but that we can do what we will. This thought has been expressed with great clearness by the poet-philosopher Robert Hamerling in his Atomistik des Willens. “Man can, it is true, do what he wills, but he cannot will what he [9]wills, because his will is determined by motives! He cannot will what he wills? Let us consider these phrases more closely. Have they any intelligible39 meaning? Does freedom of will, then, mean being able to will without ground, without motive? What does willing mean if not to have grounds for doing, or striving to do, this rather than that? To will anything without ground or motive would mean to will something without willing it. The concept of motive is indissolubly bound up with that of will. Without the determining motive the will is an empty faculty40; it is the motive which makes it active and real. It is, therefore, quite true that the human will is not ‘free,’ inasmuch as its direction is always determined by the strongest motive. But, on the other hand, it must be admitted that it is absurd to speak, in contrast with this ‘unfreedom,’ of a conceivable ‘freedom’ of the will, which would consist in being able to will what one does not will” (Atomistik des Willens, p. 213 ff.).
Here, again, only motives in general are mentioned, without taking into account the difference between unconscious and conscious motives. If a motive affects me, and I am compelled to act on it because it proves to be the “strongest” of its kind, then the idea of freedom ceases to have any meaning. How should it matter to me whether I can do a thing or not, if I am forced by the motive to do it? The primary question is, not [10]whether I can do a thing or not when impelled by a motive, but whether the only motives are such as impel26 me with absolute necessity. If I must will something, then I may well be absolutely indifferent as to whether I can also do it. And if, through my character, or through circumstances prevailing41 in my environment, a motive is forced on me which to my thinking is unreasonable42, then I should even have to be glad if I could not do what I will.
The question is, not whether I can carry out a decision once made, but how I come to make the decision.
What distinguishes man from all other organic beings is his rational thought. Activity is common to him with other organisms. Nothing is gained by seeking analogies in the animal world to clear up the concept of freedom as applied43 to the actions of human beings. Modern science loves these analogies. When scientists have succeeded in finding among animals something similar to human behaviour, they believe they have touched on the most important question of the science of man. To what misunderstandings this view leads is seen, for example, in the book Die Illusion der Willensfreiheit, by P. Ree, 1885, where, on Page 5, the following remark on freedom appears: “It is easy to explain why the movement of a stone seems to us necessary, while the volition44 of a donkey does not. The causes which set the stone in motion are external and visible, while the causes which [11]determine the donkey’s volition are internal and invisible. Between us and the place of their activity there is the skull45 cap of the ass11?…. The causal nexus46 is not visible and is therefore thought to be non-existent. The volition, it is explained, is, indeed, the cause of the donkey’s turning round, but is itself unconditioned; it is an absolute beginning.” Here again human actions in which there is a consciousness of the motives are simply ignored, for Ree declares, “that between us and the sphere of their activity there is the skull cap of the ass.” As these words show, it has not so much as dawned on Ree that there are actions, not indeed of the ass, but of human beings, in which the motive, become conscious, lies between us and the action. Ree demonstrates his blindness once again a few pages further on, when he says, “We do not perceive the causes by which our will is determined, hence we think it is not causally determined at all.”
But enough of examples which prove that many argue against freedom without knowing in the least what freedom is.
That an action of which the agent does not know why he performs it, cannot be free goes without saying. But what of the freedom of an action about the motives of which we reflect? This leads us to the question of the origin and meaning of thought. For without the recognition of the activity of mind which is called thought, it is impossible [12]to understand what is meant either by knowledge of something or by action. When we know what thought in general means, it will be easier to see clearly the role which thought plays in human action. As Hegel rightly says, “It is thought which turns the soul, common to us and animals, into spirit.” Hence it is thought which we may expect to give to human action its characteristic stamp.
I do not mean to imply that all our actions spring only from the sober deliberations of our reason. I am very far from calling only those actions “human” in the highest sense, which proceed from abstract judgments47. But as soon as our conduct rises above the sphere of the satisfaction of purely48 animal desires, our motives are always shaped by thoughts. Love, pity, and patriotism49 are motives of action which cannot be analysed away into cold concepts of the understanding. It is said that here the heart, the soul, hold sway. This is no doubt true. But the heart and the soul create no motives. They presuppose them. Pity enters my heart when the thought of a person who arouses pity had appeared in my consciousness. The way to the heart is through the head. Love is no exception. Whenever it is not merely the expression of bare sexual instinct, it depends on the thoughts we form of the loved one. And the more we idealise the loved one in our thoughts, the more blessed is our love. Here, too, thought [13]is the father of feeling. It is said that love makes us blind to the failings of the loved one. But the opposite view can be taken, namely that it is precisely for the good points that love opens the eyes. Many pass by these good points without notice. One, however, perceives them, and just because he does, love awakens50 in his soul. What else has he done except perceive what hundreds have failed to see? Love is not theirs, because they lack the perception.
From whatever point we regard the subject, it becomes more and more clear that the question of the nature of human action presupposes that of the origin of thought. I shall, therefore, turn next to this question.
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1
ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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expended
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| v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 )；使用（钱等）做某事；用光；耗尽 | |
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acme
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| n.顶点，极点 | |
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subtlety
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| n.微妙，敏锐，精巧；微妙之处，细微的区别 | |
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par
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| n.标准，票面价值，平均数量；adj.票面的，平常的，标准的 | |
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6
delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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7
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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13
doctrines
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| n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 )；教义；学说；（政府政策的）正式声明 | |
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14
psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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16
straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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inhibit
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| vt.阻止，妨碍，抑制 | |
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impel
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| v.推动；激励，迫使 | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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unconditionally
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| adv.无条件地 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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justifiable
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| adj.有理由的，无可非议的 | |
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negotiations
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| 协商( negotiation的名词复数 )； 谈判； 完成（难事）； 通过 | |
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32
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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compulsory
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| n.强制的，必修的；规定的，义务的 | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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intelligible
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| adj.可理解的，明白易懂的，清楚的 | |
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faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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prevailing
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| adj.盛行的；占优势的；主要的 | |
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42
unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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43
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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44
volition
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| n.意志；决意 | |
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45
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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46
nexus
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| n.联系；关系 | |
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47
judgments
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| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
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48
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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49
patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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50
awakens
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的第三人称单数 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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