The concept of free will, commonly defined as the “ability to choose to act or refrain from action without extrinsic or intrinsic constraints” (Joseph L. Price), was first conceived of as a distinct power by Saint Augustine in the fourth century AD. It arose from his inner battle with Christian theodicy, where he employed the Free Will Defense to reconcile the appearance of Evil with the notion of a benevolent, omnipotent God. The discourse on Free Will prevails today among philosophers, neuroscientists and physicists alike. When it comes to legal reasoning and culpability in the criminal justice system, analyses on the nature of action and moral responsibility persist. One approach which has stood the test of time is the Socratic mantra of “ignorance leading to wrongdoing”, meriting inspection through the lens of its intellectual and religious posterity. The Nicomachean Ethics by Aristotle and the book of Ecclesiastes from the Old Testament diverge in the epistemic paradigms that guide their conceptions of agency and moral responsibility, but converge from different angles in how ignorance, in one shape or another, can lead to wrongdoing. This paper will argue that though neither speaker denies a predetermined rhythm to the universe, they both aim to empower the reader to assume agency through the power of knowledge, which is tightly bound to belief.
As Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics is about what is good for human beings, the guiding question of the book is “What is the chief or primary good for man?”. To Aristotle this is the task of fundamental ethics, and a prerequisite for obtaining this primary good is engaging in excellent activity. In the third book he delineates the preconditions for excellence of character, before detailing the specific excellences of character. Analysing these preconditions sheds light on the power we have to shape our own agency.
For Socrates, ignorance was the sole cause of wrongdoing; if a state were to be built on the pedagogical and philosophical foundations articulated in the Republic, wrongdoing would cease to exist. Aristotle challenges this clear cut view by claiming that not all actions are instances of ignorance, and that through this revised lens culpability arises. The crux of his argument is his threefold distinction of action, namely as “voluntary”, “non-voluntary” and “counter-voluntary”. The distinction between non-voluntary and counter voluntary is best described through examples. A typical example of a counter-voluntary act is being swept away by a storm, where the storm is an external force, and “what comes about by force, then , appears to be that of which the origin is external with the person forced contributing nothing”(Aristotle, 1110b17-19). Feelings of regret and discomfort usually follow counter-voluntary actions. Non voluntary actions arise from ignorance but are not coupled with discomfort. An example of such an act would be missing your exam because you had no idea it was taking place. The absence of regret following this case distinguishes a non-voluntary act from a counter-voluntary one.
If the agent is responsible for his ignorance, ignorance, in fact, “constitutes grounds for penal correction” (Aristotle, 1113b31-34). The example provided is committing crime out of ignorance one was responsible for, such as being intoxicated- it was in one’s power no to get drunk and avoid that crime. A modern day example would be drunk driving, where the penalties of running over someone would be multiplied- although the agent may not have been aware, or “knowledgeable” of their actions, it was still their decision to get drunk and then drive in the first place. To Aristotle, such actions are a testament to one’s character, and he argues that character is a voluntary acquisition. This is made explicit when he says that “to say that no one is vicious voluntarily, or counter-voluntarily blessed with happiness, looks false in one way...for no one is blessed counter-voluntarily, but badness is something voluntary” (Aristotle, 1113b13). Thus, although it may seem that wrongdoing could be traced to a source outside of us (deeming it counter-voluntary), often times we cannot trace actions back to origins beyond their origins in us (Aristotle, 1113b22), and therefore these actions depend on us and are voluntary. Therefore, when it comes to punishment and the legal system, penalties are due as they correct people “who are ignorant of something laid down in the laws”, which is information readily available and incumbent on everyone to know. Similarly, they would discipline careless people who should have taken it upon themselves to have be careful (Aristotle, 1114a4). What separates the non voluntary act and the voluntary then can be likened to a distinction between acting because of ignorance and acting in ignorance, where the former stems from inadequate information and the latter from a distorted perspective due to either intoxication or malicious character. Freeing oneself from ignorance, in both senses, maximises agency.
What is more, besides self-indulgence and injustice being voluntary (Aristotle, 1114a15-20), Aristotle widens the scope of voluntary actions by asserting, “Not only are bad states of the soul voluntary, but with some people those of the body are so too, and these people too we blame; for while no one claims those who are naturally ugly, we do blame those who are ugly through lack of training and through neglect” (Aristotle, 1114a25). Thus, even physical shortcomings can be voluntary and one has to assume responsibility over them. The powerful (and even concerning) degree of agency Aristotle describes goes above and beyond the Socratic stance, delegating each individual to be proactive in their own edification, for if they neglect this responsibility, they are at fault, and are worthy of punishment.
Another salient distinction made between the counter voluntary and the voluntary is that the former concerns ignorance on particulars and the latter ignorance on universals (Aristotle, 1110b34-1111a2). Aristotle rebukes acting at the level of ignorance of universals, as this characterizes the state of one who has wrong values or priorities. Since ignorance of universals, say for example ignorance of the fact that all sexual actions should be consented, is not counter voluntary, but non-voluntary (Aristotle, 1110b31-2), though the degree to which the cheater is responsible for knowing this normative claim could render it a voluntary act worthy of punishment. Nevertheless, this act is definitely not countervoluntary to Aristotle, a claim different from Plato’s who held that “no one acts unjustly except counter-voluntarily” (Plato, 860d).
Knowing how to harness the forces around you in order to maximise agency is key when it comes to Aristotle’s teleological view of human nature. Our telos, which is our unique goal to fulfil, is based on rational thought. This leads directly to his conclusion that reflective activity, is the highest good. The purest manifestation of this voluntary rational thought is reflective activity (Aristotle, 1177a21), and a life reflective activity “will be higher than the human plane; for it is not in so far as he is human that he will live like this, but insofar as there is something divine as compared to a human being, so too a life lived in accordance with this will be divine as compared to a human life” (Aristotle, 1177b26-30), which mandates “awareness of fine things and divine ones- whether being, itself too, something divine, or the divinest of the things in us, it is the activity of this, in accordance with its own proper excellence, that will complete happiness” (Aristotle, 1177a15-20). As such, there is a transcendental nature ascribed to a voluntary appeal to reason, in that it will free humans from attachment to the human plane, leading to true happiness.
A couple of centuries later (presumably), a new canon of theological texts was introduced that shaped much of civilization to this day. Among the books in the canon, the book of Ecclesiastes in the Old Testament, along with with Proverbs and Job, are often referred to as “wisdom literature”, containing proverbial sayings and practical maxims. A book scrutinized in the past for its potentially radical or dissenting ideals, it was only fully accepted as canonical in the second century CE. Most scholars infer that it is from the postexilic period (after 599 BCE), which refers to the time between the end of the Babylonian exile and 1AD. The book is commonly understood in the context of the ancient Near East, more specifically Persia in a time of economic and political volatility. Due to its disparate and misunderstood origins, there are huge interpretive discrepancies. Hence, in this paper I will argue from my personal interpretation of the text, providing textual and theological analysis along the way.
Ecclesiastes strikes me as a deeply spiritual book under the veneer of pessimism or idle existentialism. An unidentified speaker, self-portrayed as a sage or teacher, walks the reader through a seemingly bleak and futile life, wherein calamity will inevitably befall you. In my view, however, it would be too simplistic to write the book off as such. Upon reading and deepening my understanding of the underlying claims, I argue that the text has to be read hypothetically, where the majority of the text is not an account of human life, but rather a description of the human experience in the absence of divinity.
To illustrate, I was struck that on the one hand the speaker argues that “the same fate comes to all, to the righteous and the wicked…” (Ecc, 9:2) and on the other hand he contends “Though sinners do evil a hundred times and prolong their lives, yet I know that it will be well with those who fear God, because they stand in fear before him, but it will not be well with the wicked...because they do not stand in fear before God” (Ecc, 8:12). Faced with this tension, as well as both the frequent changes in tone and indubitable surrender to faith in God at the end of the book, it would make sense to me to read the speaker’s pessimistic account of the futility of righteousness as a “what if”, more specifically referring to the condition in which you would confine yourself to the earthly realm and deny God’s providence. There is thus more to the true human condition than meets the eye, and ignorance of the transcendental nature of life can render life futile, as it curtails your freedom and agency.
Seeing as a hypothetical reading of the text drastically transforms its meaning, further evidence for this argument is due. Besides the tension mentioned above, there is also a tension between translations of verse 3:21, which reads “Who knows whether the human spirit goes upward and the spirit of animals goes downward to the earth?” in the version assigned in the syllabus, but reads “Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth?” when directly translated from the Hebrew. The seemingly trivial nuance with “whether” in the former translation accounts for a significant difference, as without it the speaker is affirming the existence of a transcendental realm, the nature of which is, however, unknowable.
Thus, when it comes to appealing to transcendental realities, Ecclesiastes provides a compelling narrative as to why belief in, as well as knowledge of, an immaterial realm, one similar to what Aristotle described as “higher than a human plane”, is more fruitful. What distinguishes Ecclesiastes from the Nicomachean Ethics is the emphasis on belief, which, when coupled with knowledge, can confer agency on the individual. When it comes to belief in God there must be knowledge, for scarcely is a robust belief unfortified by knowledge. Thus, the speaker stands at the cross section of an either edified or dismissive reader, offering agency in return for alleviation of ignorance.
In the first half of the book, namely up till book 5, the speaker is recounting his experiences and learnings. He “applie[d] [his] mind to seek and to search out by wisdom all that is done under the heaven” (Ecc, 1:13). This is one of the few times he mentions the word “heaven”in the book, mainly referring to “under the sun”. If we are to take “under the heaven” as meaning a world with God, and “under the sun” as a world in denial of God, the predominance of the latter could account for the predominantly bleak tone, as it represents a life devoid of belief. Magnifying the difference between a life under the sun and a life under heaven only stresses the importance of believing in God’s providence.
After detailing his experiences with the futility of solely looking to what was “under the sun” (Ecc, e.g 1:14), there is a momentous shift in tone from personal narrative in chapters 1-4 to more normative statements from book 5 onwards. Literally, the text jumps from “surely this also is vanity and chasing after the wind” (Ecc, 4:16), to “Guard your steps when you go to the house of God” (Ecc, 5:1). This shift could follow a change in heart upon understanding the immaterial realm, wherein statements on the futility of life become belittling to those who hold them. For example, the speaker says “Just as they came, so shall they go; and what gain do they have from toiling for the wind?...Besides all their days they eat in darkness, in much vexation and sickness and resentment” (Ecc 5:17). The foregoing could refer to the pitfalls of ignorance, further implied by the use of the word “darkness”. This would make sense when compared to a verse later on which says “Wisdom is as good as an inheritance, an advantage to those who see the sun….for the protection of wisdom is like protection of money, and the advantage of knowledge is that wisdom gives life to the one who possesses it” (Ecc 7:12). Just as Aristotle defends the power of knowledge in conferring agency, leading to realization of the human telos , here too the speaker believes that wisdom, closely tied to reflective activity, can enrich your life.
Besides enriching the quality of life, the Socratic mantra of ignorance leading to wrongdoing resurfaces throughout Ecclesiastes. For example, the speaker posits “Wisdom makes one’s face shine, and the hardness of one’s countenance is changed” (Ecc, 8:1), which hints at the edifying nature of wisdom. Similarly when it reads “The heart of the wise inclines to the right but the heart of a fool to the left” (Ecc, 10:2), the speaker is suggesting that wisdom can often prevent wrongdoing. However, as argued in the analysis of verse 3:21, knowledge in the context of God and the various planes of reality has its limits. Aristotle's account of ignorance bifurcates to ignorance of particulars and ignorance of universals, where the “particulars” refer to contextual details of various situations. The ignorance the teacher in ecclesiastes depreciates is akin to ignorance of universals.
An example of one such universal is explored at the start of chapter three of Ecclesiastes, where we encounter a poetic interlude on temporality and the predetermined rhythm to the universe. Hopelessness on account of these inevitable occurrences is due to ignorance of a universal, namely that there are some things outside of our control. In Ecclesiastes, it states that “for everything there is a season” (Ecc, 3:1), and that “[God] has made everything suitable for its time”- in other words, God determines time and timing. However, rather than being fatalistic, it can also be seen as empowering the agent to transcend the ephemerality of exclusively earthly existence. All the events referred to seasonally rely on external forces and currents that inevitable impact us al (such as loss or sickness), and both writers would agree that when it comes to external forces, we lack agency. Thus, the passage on the temporality and inevitability of some external forces is analogous to the nature of counter voluntary actions governed by forces that sweep us off our feet. Ignorance of the universal that we can all transcend these forces could be regarded as ignorance of a universal.
So too could ignorance of God’s existence be a universal that both Aristotle and the speaker in Ecclesiastes allude to. Denial of God’s existence is worthy of punishment in both the systematic sense and the internal sense, where the latter refers to feeling impotent, which is how the speaker initially feels in Ecclesiastes. Thus, ignorance of a deity or “higher human plane” as Aristotle puts it, warrants punishment as it applies to the realm of culpable action.
How do these theories stand against more contemporary schools of thought? Traditions arising from Darwinian theories of evolution affirm that as we are products of natural selection, our actions and impulses are heavily influenced by what is deemed genetically advantageous. In her paper “A Darwinian Dilemma for Realist Theories of Value”, Sharon Street claims that our evaluative beliefs are “thoroughly saturated with evolutionary influences”, as there is a strong correlation between what is deemed morally ‘right’ and what is/ was evolutionarily beneficial. However, although evolution has played a pivotal role, many other forces govern our actions, as illustrated by the myriad value disagreements present in our society. Daniel Kahneman in his book “Thinking Fast and Slow” addresses this issue by theorising that we have two systems for decision making (systems I and II), where the first system is intuitive, originating from evolutionarily beneficial instincts, and is much faster; rational decisions pertain to the second system, which is slower, and much less frequently at play. The rational system often prompts actions contrary to what is deemed evolutionarily beneficial. For example, the Amygdala, one of the emotion regulating regions of the brain, will make snapshot judgements of people almost instantaneously, and group them based on who they are in relation to you, that is, whether they are in the in-group or out-group. Through acquiring Social Semantic Knowledge, which refers to personal information about the person you made a snapshot judgement of, you can then adjust these snapshot judgements to more accurately and objectively describe the individual. Implicit biases are thought to operate in this way, where we can train ourselves to overcome the instantaneous responses we have to stimuli (employing system II), but will necessarily be heavily influenced by our evolutionary instincts (system I). Therefore, although when it comes to in and outgroup favoritisation, overcoming implicit biases may not have been evolutionarily beneficial in the past, through knowledge, or lack of ignorance, we can correct our actions. The evolutionary influences are examples of external forces that can constrain our behaviour, and so in some cases instinctual responses could be counter-voluntary and even fatalistic, but these theories demonstrate how rational faculties can be invoked to overcome these external forces.
Upon analysing two ancestral steeds in the free will debate, it can be gleaned that ultimately the onus is on the individual to shape how much agency he or she wants. Rather than making broader claims regarding the degree of agency in human nature, each individual’s Weltanschauung has the power to liberate oneself from hard determinism or futility. This notion of training mental faculties to overcome impulses or inclinations curtailing your agency is part of an ongoing dialogue in modern day psychology, neuroscience and even evolutionary biology, an example being refining your Social Semantic Knowledge to overcome the snapshot judgements your Amygdala makes. It is easy to bystand the tapestries of events in your life that seem preordained or dictated by evolutionary trends or the temporality of life, yet Nicomachean Ethics, and the Old Testament provide two accounts of how knowledge of universals can both edify and free you from the forces that can so easily carry you away.
Works Cited:
Aristoteles, et al. Nicomachean Ethics. Oxford University Press, 2011.
Kahneman, Daniel. Thinking, Fast and Slow. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2015.
Lenowitz, Harris. New Oxford Annotated Bible: New Revised Standard Version with The. Oxford University Press, 2001.
Street, Sharon. “A Darwinian Dilemma for Realist Theories of Value.” Philosophical Studies, vol. 127, no. 1, 2006, pp. 109–166., doi:10.1007/s11098-005-1726-6.
“The Internet Classics Archive | Laws by Plato.” The Internet Classics Archive | On Airs, Waters, and Places by Hippocrates, classics.mit.edu/Plato/laws.9.ix.html.
Eagleton, Terry. “Freedom Regained by Julian Baggini Review – the Question of Free Will.” The Guardian, Guardian News and Media, 1 Apr. 2015, www.theguardian.com/books/2015/apr/01/freedom-regained-julian-baggini-review-possibility-free-will.
