Do we or do we not have choices? Should I ponder?

 Free will: Do we or do we not have choices, that may be a question, but is it worth pondering?

Arun Kumar

It is a brilliant crisp day in autumn; a day of unparalleled beauty and serenity, with nature orchestrating a breathtaking palette of colors (and also emotions). The air is filled with a refreshing crispness that invigorates the senses and carries an aroma of fallen leaves that only autumn can bring.

Looking upward one sees the sky with a flawless shade of blue. The slanting rays of sunlight fall on everything in a warm, golden glow, casting long, enchanting shadows on the ground.

The trees, draped in color, stand proudly in the backdrop of the blue sky.

In this brilliance of an autumn afternoon, sitting in a car, I am driving listening to a psychology podcast and the topic is free will. The podcasters and his guest are discussing whether we have free will or whether we don’t.

It is obviously an important topic with implications for who bears the moral responsibility for actions, and by extension for the legal system as to how punishments should be framed.

Free will is also important for the smooth functioning of society. It is easier to manage a society and put checks and balances in place with the premise of free will as the foundation. Try managing a social structure when people are not responsible for their actions.

Listening to two people talk on the podcast, debate, and banter (often acrimoniously) various nuances behind the notion of free will, I am beginning to wonder who really cares about the subject matter. What segment of human society at this moment is thinking about the question of free will.

Entangled is that question is also the notion of equity. What fraction of humanity even has the wherewithal to ponder over such matters?

Given the reality of living and the amount of mental and physical resources it takes to keep our head above water, in large parts of the global population, people do not have the luxury to dwell on such issues.

It is not unlike the instance when I had realized that drinking a cup of earl gray on a winter morning with my hands wrapped around a warm cup hides a has lot more to it. My ability to do so is an outcrop of inequality; not many have the luxury to do so.

Even in the developed countries where people have financial wherewithal and have the luxury of discretionary time, it is so much easier to follow the path that requires least action than wondering about free will and its consequences.

Urges to contemplate free get trumped by the ease of engaging in social media, for example.

The podcast drags on, the discussion drifts into places that do not seem to be of any relevance to 99.9% of humanity. I am getting close to my destination and have to get off at the next exit and navigate through the neighborhood roads to get to where I need to be.

To focus, I reach out and turn off the podcast. Perhaps that was an act of my free will.

Our protagonists on the podcast can continue debating about free will in the ether. I have an appointment to keep, and it is more important than whether I do or don’t have free will. If I am late, and the penalty I have to pay as a consequence is weightier than the question of free will.

With or without free will, clocks will keep ticking, time will keep its unidirectional march, and I will remain mortal and will confront its consequences. Perhaps in another time and place the question of “free will” will hold a higher significance.

But not today.

Ciao.