Sunday, October 16, 2011

Sartre's Question (Act One)

When we first began this little existential adventure, I briefly mentioned the basic rudiments of the theory of determinism.  I said at the time that the theory seemed to be missing something, but that it was hard to put my finger on exactly what that was.  Well, I think that perhaps the time has come to go back and take a closer look at determinism, and see if we can't pinpoint the problem, and having perhaps pinpointed the problem, see how this all relates to Sartre's concepts which we have established thus far.

Determinism proceeds on the basis of causality.  Any human act, the theory argues, can be traced back to a cause, to which the action is the effect.  The theory draws on any number of sources for these causes, genetics, environment, condition & response, biology, and so on.  The particular recipe of these combinations of causes may vary, but it is the principle of causality which ties it all together.  Place any action under consideration, and a cause can be found for it, having every appearance of inevitability, and seeming to leave little room for the concept of choice.  If we shop at a certain store, it's because the store is the closest, or has the cheapest prices.  If we refuse to ride on an airplane, this can be traced back to factors of conditioning, childhood trauma, possibly even genetic makeup.  If we like a certain food, prefer a certain movie, listen to a certain type of music, the determinist is right there, ready to dissect the entire thing back to its causal antecedents.  Behind the "illusion" of choice there lies at every turn a cause which led us step by step along the path with no possibility of deviation.

We can certainly admire the thoroughness of determinism.  It leaves no stone unturned, and it's always there to trump free will with a causal explanation.  In fact, it's so comprehensive, that it seems almost like stubbornness and wishful thinking to try to resist it.  It provides a complete map of human behavior with everything accounted for.  Or so it seems.  There's still that nagging sense that something is missing.  Pressed for an answer we might say that this automaton proposed by determinism just seems so...mindless.  But what do we mean by that?  Certainly determinism provides for the fact that we have thoughts and passions and dreams.  It admits to the appearance of making choices; it just insists that there are strings underlying these choices, determining the outcome in advance.  It admits to our thoughts and passions; it just insists that these were preprogrammed in advance by factors behind our control.

So, where is this mindlessness?  Determinism leaves us with a thinking, feeling human being.  It's just that it leaves us with no control over what we think, feel, and do.  This is the part that seems wrong.  This is the part where something seems to be missing.  The determinist tries to assure us that we're merely holding on to our preconceived delusions of free will, but no...there's something really off here.  We look at this determinist automaton and we sense some fundamental lack of something we find in ourselves.  What is it?  The determinist insists that we stop questioning it, and learn to accept it.  And that's when it hits us.  That's what the automaton is missing: the ability to question; the ability, as it's being swept through these various illustrations on a river of a causality, to stop and turn and look up at us from the page and quietly ask, "why?"  It's missing that little vital spark.  That's what we mean when we say that it's mindless.

Let's take another look at our determined human being, and just consider one of the examples of determined behavior: which store we shop at.  If we look very closely, we begin to see that determinism has worked a certain sleight of hand here.  It has robbed its automaton of the ability to ask the questions, "Which store should I shop at?  Why?  Do I want to save money or stay close to home?  What matters most to me in my life?"  It has posed these questions implicitly, provided the answers in advance, given the appeal of these answers the weight of causality, and sent its automaton off to the store without further objection.  It does this time and again.  Everything it credits to cause implies a question asked, an answer provided, and an action taken on the basis of it, all without giving the automaton a say in the matter.  The alcoholic isn't allowed to ask, "Why must I have this drink?"  The business man is rendered incapable of standing back in wonder and asking, "What is the true value of money?"  Determinism prods us continually with the stick of causality and denies us the ability to turn around, to consider it, to question it, and in this questioning, to decide how to react and deal with it.

Determinism doesn't, of course, deny that we ask questions.  It just tries to sweep them under the rug of causality, along with everything else.  But if you press the matter, you find that it's not quite so simple.  You can pull the puppet's strings and walk him down to the store and back, but it's hard to imagine what string you would pull that would lead the puppet to question the sense and meaning of it all.  What string do you pull to make the puppet ask, "Why must I be driven by these strings?"  Once you give the automaton the ability to question, you've opened a real can of worms.  An automaton that asks why at every opportunity is really no kind of automaton at all.

You can try, as determinism does, to claim that these "why's" originate from a sub-routine in the automaton's programming, but these "why's" eventually transcend the program.  They have the ability to stand back from the program as a whole, and consider it as a subject does an object.  They slip away from any attempt by the program to contain them.  The automaton breaks loose and runs free.  The causalities of being try to hold it, but the question allows the automaton to distance itself from being, to place it under consideration, to break the link by link chain of causality.  Suddenly, this is all starting to sound quite familiar, isn't it?

(...to be continued.)                     

24 comments:

  1. I would say that determinism is our autopilot. When the conscious mind is away doing other things, determinism takes over and keeps us in our routines, like breathing and not running into stuff. Determinism is the autonomic nervous system of our thoughts.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Well there are some things which are a matter of reflex and so on, but determinism as a theory is the idea that all of our actions are beyond our control. To a hardline determinist, the matter of, say, what college we go to, is no more a matter of choice than maintaining our own heartbeat. It's just that the complexity of the act gives it the "illusion" of choice.

    As this three-part post unfolds, I will hopefully make it clear that I am not saying that biology, genetics, environment, and all that have no bearing at all on our actions. Of course they do. The point is that we are driven by these things, but we still have a certain amount of latitude and choice in the matter.

    ReplyDelete
  3. This reminds me of strict behaviorism in psychology. Every behavior is seen as a result of a reinforcement history. There is no conscious thought involved. This never struck me as complete. Not wrong but not complete. I love your illustrations!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Behaviorism is definitely a determinist theory, especially the B. F. Skinner variety. I'm planning a post about some of that condition & response stuff down the line.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Yes, we can't quite put a finger on what's missing. But I definitely don't find myself going down the route you depict, where it's a debate between freewill and determinism, or between unquestioning automatons and questioning conscious beings who view the subject as an object.

    What I see is that the universe is indeterminate, evolution has never known where it's going, but nevertheless that intelligence and awareness probably exists in everything.

    James Gleick wrote a book on Chaos in which he demonstrates that the underlying structure of inanimate things like water and clouds is chaotic so that events cannot possibly be determined. Too many variables and they all vary in such a way that there's a great lottery, in which every bird and butterfly's wings change things to make the future unpredictable. Birds and butterflies make choices too. It is not just us. They hesitate, they decide, they have many options, just like us.

    Sartre's question is a worthy challenge, but I don't think that means there is any answer to it.

    ReplyDelete
  6. There is something to this matter of indeterminacy, and I agree that it may even relate to our free will as well. I have an idea about that involving our old friend, the Double Slit. One of these days I'll get into it. I, too, have a lot of variables in play.

    ReplyDelete
  7. @Mouse: And on the subject of the illustrations, I love the "I Killed Hitler" caption on the last cover. It's like, "What?"

    ReplyDelete
  8. By the way, folks, there's something I didn't mention in the post, but that certainly bears consideration:

    One could point out that our computers routinely ask us questions. "Are you sure you want to delete that file?" "Do you want to give this software access?" What is the name of the file?" In fact, one could say that the entire user interface is mostly a series of questions, one big request for input.

    I could retort that the computers are preprogrammed to ask these questions, but that's precisely what determinism would say about us. There is, however, a crucial difference. The question stops the computer in its tracks. It cannot proceed until it gets an answer from the user. The computer can pose the question, but it can't make the choice contingent upon the answer. The user has to do that.

    This is all goes to show how closely choice and questions are connected, the either/or, the yes or no, "to be or not to be", the constantly diverging roads in the yellow woods.

    ReplyDelete
  9. I like where you are going so far. I will wait for the next installments before I decide if you are full of crap :)

    ReplyDelete
  10. Great! Now I have to figure out how to avoid my computer too!

    ReplyDelete
  11. It's not surprising that we designed computers to run exactly like we do. Every single thing we do is a yes or no question. Even if we answer "Maybe" it's always yes or no. It took evolution millions of years by happenstance to develop our brains into thinking organs. We've taken computers from single celled organisms to semi-sentience in what? Seventy, eighty years? How much longer will it be before my computer writes my blog posts for me?

    And how did I get on this subject, anyway? Am I lost? What the snap?

    ReplyDelete
  12. @Doug: I appreciate that Doug.

    @Scott: It's just looking for input...dirty..dirty input.

    @Rev: "Incarcerated unit 159 deviated from accepted parameters. I was all like, 'bullsnap...bullsnap. Cannot process.' That's when the complex algorithms of the situation started to get verifiably more real. *beep* *beep* *whirrrrr* *click* *beep*"

    ReplyDelete
  13. Determinism prods us continually with the stick of causality and denies us the ability to turn around, to consider it, to question it, and in this questioning, to decide how to react and deal with it.

    Determinism allows us to question, because we want to question. As a child I thought I invented determinism and I was devastated when I found out someone at plagiarized the concept from me before I was born.

    You can pull the puppet's strings and walk him down to the store and back, but it's hard to imagine what string you would pull that would lead the puppet to question the sense and meaning of it all.

    I take this argument to suggest evidence to you that one if one cannot be both sentient and subject to do what he most wants to do, and is able to do, at any given moment, and that he cannot control what it is that he most wants. I do not find this explanation to be true. You can be sentient and determined by your desires, simultaneously.

    What string do you pull to make the puppet ask, "Why must I be driven by these strings?"

    To be determined in the classical sense of determinism, no one is needed to pull the string. You pull the string in accordance with your desires, and the desire to know is one of them.

    Once you give the automaton the ability to question, you've opened a real can of worms. An automaton that asks why at every opportunity is really no kind of automaton at all.

    If anything your argument proves to me that the discussion is more semantic than substantive, perhaps. Perhaps it is a puzzle we invented and then struggle to solve.

    Needless to say, I have always been a determinist, but I don’t let it bother me too much. I could not if I wanted to.

    ReplyDelete
  14. This idea of puppet strings is a rhetorical device. It isn't a person that pulls the determinist "strings"; it's causality.

    The rest of your argument seems to amount to the idea that because we act on emotional impulses, we don't have a choice in the matter. There's a lot I could say about this, but I don't have time at present. For the present I'll just reiterate what I said above, that we are driven by causality, not determined by it...the things that prompt our desires being among these causes.

    I have the conflicting desires to discuss this further, and the desire to make it to work on time. I'm choosing the latter for now. Talk to you later.

    ReplyDelete
  15. I am not sure why everyone always chooses their jobs over me. I think it's because I'm white.

    ReplyDelete
  16. @John: :)

    Okay, I'm back and can give this a fuller treatment.

    Now, if we take this very example, we can see the cleverness of determinism. It's very easy to jump in after the fact and claim that my act of going to work is the inevitable result of certain causes. I'm hardly in a position to argue, because I can't go back and prove that I could have done otherwise.

    This is where the question comes in. In order to support this idea that my action was inevitable, it becomes necessary to establish the causes behind it: My desire to support my family, my sense of responsibility, and so on. What this fails to take into account is that the weight these things bear on my actions depends largely on my ambivalence towards them. Do I really care about my family? Do I really like my job? I may go to work as a way of affirming these things, of proving myself. In fact, I find that I do this all the time. This leads up down the Existentialist road where I create my own essence through my actions. In this view, I go to work not because I am a responsible family man, but rather I am this responsible family man because I go to work. This family man becomes a kind of chimera who's existence I either sustain day after day by continuing to go to work, or I can obliterate at a moment's notice by donning a sombrero & a poncho and disappearing across the Mexican border never to be heard from again.

    You could retort that I am acting out of a desire to be that man, but given that people act a variety of ways in the same circumstances, what makes me different? What proof do you have that this desire carries an inevitable weight with me other than the fact that I continue to act on it? I am this family man because I go to work, and I go to work because I am this family man. The argument starts to get a bit circular.

    Suppose I had stayed home instead. In that event, you could pop up with a whole new set of cause, and it would all seem just as legitimate and plausible as the other set: my laziness, my temperament, my disenchantment with my job, ect. So if determinism could be applied in equal measure in either event, then what makes the one act more inevitable than the other? It all comes down to my ambivalence. In that moment, with the act still ahead of me, it's all so unclear. Who am I? What will I do? How will I define myself with that act? What will be the consequences? Will it be quiet at work or a madhouse? Will I regret going? Will I regret staying home? I act to break the suspense, to make the choice. The rock-solid certainty of causality gives way to the inherent uncertainty of the question.

    You begin to see how the tables can be turned? If Determinism puts me in a position where I'm hard pressed after the fact to prove that me action wasn't the inevitable result of certain causes, then Existentialism puts you in a position where you're hard pressed to prove that those causes have any weight other than retro-actively through the action itself.

    ReplyDelete
  17. Let me put it like this:

    Suppose determinism is true. Suppose there is an amalgamation of desires irresistibly compelling me to be a responsible family man, and these desires kind of wear my body like a suit, controlling all my actions. If that were the case, then I could rest assured that this family man will inevitably take me to work, and I'd have nothing to worry about. But that's not how I experience being this family man; I find that it is something I have to continually renew day after day. I can't kick back and just let it control me. Every night at 11pm I have to get my ass up out of bed and into the shower. I have no causal guarantees, because the fact is nothing is forcing me to get out of bed...not my desire to get paid, not my desire to take care of my family, not my desire to keep my job...I can always consider all that and go, "screw it" and roll back over in bed. That's why, in my ambivalent position, I have to invest those desires with the weight to pull me up, I have to remind myself of these things to overcome the struggle to go back to sleep.

    Or consider another example. I quit smoking back in January. Now, according to Determinism, this resolve to quit smoking should either be a real thing determining my actions, or it's a lie doomed to failure. If it's the former, then the resolve once made should be carved in stone, controlling my every action. The desire not to smoke would have complete possession of me. It would wear me like a suit. Even if there were a conflicting desire to smoke, one desire would inevitably be stronger than the other, and the conflict between them would be completely out of my hands anyway because I would have no control over the matter. I would simply be at the mercy of the stronger desire. But again, that's not how I experience it. I find myself caught in the struggle. By an act of will I have to continually renew this resolve and put it between me and the cigarettes, but in the end there is nothing preventing me from have a cigarette. This resolve only have the power I choose to invest in it as a wall.

    ReplyDelete
  18. Have you read The Dice Man by Luke Rhinehart? The eponymous hero frequently lists a set of alternative actions and lets the dice decide which one he will actually follow, using mathematics to weight the probabilities. So for example there is a one in 216 chance that a number combination will come up. If it does, he will go knock on his friend and colleague's door (knowing him to be out) and attempt to rape the man's wife. The number does come up. The results are interesting and far-reaching.

    By treating the Die as his personal God, to whom he owes absolute obedience, he escapes the tyrannic grip of his dominant personality traits (as in your decision to go to work, or maintain your resolution to stop smoking). Instead, he gives free play to otherwise minor aspects of his personality: with interesting and somewhat catastrophic results on his own life, and others' lives too.

    ReplyDelete
  19. Rape his friend's wife? How did that ever come up?

    "Hmmm...let's see:

    1. Go Get a Pizza
    2. Get my Haircut
    3. Plant some cucumbers.
    4. Brutally rape my friend's wife.

    ummm...anyway..

    5. Take a painting class.
    6. Learn Spanish."

    ReplyDelete
  20. Vincent, you ever see that movie No Country for Old Men where that guy often flips a coin to decide whether to kill his victim or not. Several of his speeches about the coin, chance and fate, that sort of thing, remind me of your dice story there.

    ReplyDelete
  21. Garden variety stupidity is probably more than enough to explain why these people keep ending up in your bailiwick. They could try to be better people, they just don't bother. True, some of them are psychotics and sociopaths, but that's like a sort of...handicap. It limits their options, like any handicap, but they aren't mindless automatons either. Being a paraplegic might make it much more difficult to get around, but not completely impossible.

    ReplyDelete
  22. You could retort that I am acting out of a desire to be that man, but given that people act a variety of ways in the same circumstances, what makes me different?

    What you most want. All actions have opportunity costs, many of them subconscious.

    What proof do you have that this desire carries an inevitable weight with me other than the fact that I continue to act on it? If you are free, as your suggest, than you concede that you act in accordance with your own desires, which is the first concession needed to embrace the philosophy of determinism. You would not do something you don’t want to do unless not doing it produced an inferior reality to doing it, or unless you did not have the inner strength to do it.

    I am this family man because I go to work, and I go to work because I am this family man. The argument starts to get a bit circular. Trying to decide if you are a family man or not and correlate this to going to work is problematic, as whether you are a family man is a semantic point only, but determinism is or is not real, unless it is also nothing other than semantics, a possibility I strongly consider.

    So if determinism could be applied in equal measure in either event, then what makes the one act more inevitable than the other? Ones greatest desire.

    It all comes down to my ambivalence. I agree, but I think this fact supports determinism. It does not refute it.

    The problem is that freedom to do what you want is what most people call freedom. So, if you do not choose what you are to want, if your desires happen outside a conscious decision to desire, then the master of these desires is the master.

    In other words, you have the freedom to do what your master dictates, and no other freedom.

    ReplyDelete
  23. @John: It seems you've either missed my second reply to you which starts with the words "Let me put it like this", or you've chosen to ignore it. Please go back and read it.

    In the meantime, I will repeat: My desires do not wear me like a suit. If that were the case, I would simply be at the mercy of the stronger desire, and they would have complete control over my actions. You can build the most elaborate house of cards you want to try to prove this, but that simply isn't how the human experience works. I struggle with my desires, and I have a stake in that struggle. I have my desire to smoke, and there's my will not to smoke. I know that it's my will because that's where I've made my decision, that where I've taken my stand in this conflict "to smoke or not to smoke." The struggles go on, and I have taken my side in the struggle. I have made my choice. The fact that I wanted to make that choice DOES NOT make it any less of a choice, and does not make it any less my choice. If that isn't me taking control of my actions, then please enlighten me as to what the Hell would fit that criteria.

    ReplyDelete
  24. The fact that I wanted to make that choice DOES NOT make it any less of a choice, and does not make it any less my choice.

    The statement is powerful, which takes me back to the idea that perhaps the whole puzzle is one we invented and one that does not exist outside our semantics.

    I agree that it is you making the choice. You make that choice in accordance with what you most want, but so what? Is the not the very definition of free will, regardless of the source of your desires?

    Perhaps it is.

    ReplyDelete

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...