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Chapter 13.
Overcoming Blame, Guilt, Envy and
Arrogance by Overcoming the Illusion
of Free Will
When we believe we have a free will,
we hold each other and ourselves
accountable. To the extent that we
can overcome this illusion, we will
not blame each other, feel the pain
of guilt, and envy others. When we
do good, we won’t feel arrogant;
we’ll feel grateful. That’s on a
personal level. Consider how
overcoming the free will illusion
would affect how we treat each other
as countries, and groups of people.
This illusion of free will has
profound and global consequences,
which is why it is important that we
take steps to re-construct our
society in a way that will adhere to
the reality of our causal and
unconscious human wills, and thereby
help us in many ways. When we say we
have a free will, basically what
we’re saying is that what we do –
what we decide, think, feel – is
completely up to us without anything
that is not in our control
compelling us to do what we do. For
example, let’s say we claim that our
feelings are completely up to us. If
free will means that we can freely
choose to feel what we want – then
who among us would choose to feel
negative feelings? Who among us
would choose to feel anything but
blissful every hour of every day? If
having a free will means that we
could make our moral decisions
completely up to us – that we could
be as good as we would want to be –
who among us wouldn’t be a perfect
angel? Who wouldn’t be good, and do
good, all of the time, especially
toward the people in our lives?
Considering those questions is a
very good way to understand why we
obviously do not have a free will.
Free will is an illusion. It’s
something that we’ve actually been
predetermined to believe. It hasn’t
been up to us that we believe this.
Nature had us hold the illusion that
the world is flat. We held that
illusion for a long time, and now we
know we’re living on an orb. But
this free will illusion is much more
important. We can conduct our every
day affairs very well, regardless of
whether or not we believe the world
is flat. The belief in free will
affects us much more profoundly.
Under this illusion of free will, we
hold ourselves accountable. When we
or other people do what is wrong, we
blame, and indict, and prosecute,
and condemn, and punish ourselves,
and each other. When we do good, we
take pride. But pride often leads to
arrogance, and comparisons. “Because
I did this, I’m better than you,” we
boast. We look down on others, and
that’s not good for our personal
relations. When other people do
good, we sometimes envy them. We
don’t realize that what we’re
envying them about wasn’t really up
to them. They were lucky, in a
certain sense. That is simply the
way nature compelled them to be.
Let’s examine these matters one by
one, and the actual harm that the
illusion of free will causes every
day at both personal and societal
levels. Somebody does something
wrong. The belief in free will leads
us to blame them. It leads us to say
that they, of their own free will,
did some wrong toward us. With the
illusion of free will, if we are
ascribing complete accountability to
that other person, and we’re blaming
them, we very likely see them as our
adversary. We’re in competition with
them. We may seek vengeance and
retribution. We may seek to punish
them because they did wrong. That’s
what happens when we ascribe free
will to others. So, what happens
when we understand that the other
person who did whatever they did
toward us had absolutely no choice
in the matter? They were completely
compelled in what they did. It
wasn’t up to them. To the extent
that we can understand that, we
become more compassionate. Let’s
say, for example, that someone takes
another person’s hand, and pushes it
so that the hand knocks into you.
Are you going to blame the person
whose hand someone else took and
knocked into you, or are you going
to blame the person who took the
other person’s hand and knocked it
into you? Naturally, it’s the
latter. When you understand that
nobody has a free will, and that
free will is, and always will be, an
illusion, if you become angry,
you’re not going to become angry
with that person. You won’t wish to
punish that person, or seek
vengeance. You may become angry with
the universe, or God, but you’re not
going to be angry with that person.
When you don’t become angry, and
don’t blame that person, you
suddenly find that they and you are
on the same side of the equation. If
both the other person and you
realize that neither of you have a
free will, you might then ask
yourselves “why would fate, or God,
or the universe, or the causal past,
do this?”
What happens is that your
relationship with the other person
is preserved. You and they are no
longer adversaries. You’re on the
same side, trying to figure
everything out. I’m not saying that
understanding that we don’t have a
free will will lead to everyone
being open to aggression by others.
For example, if someone aggresses
toward us in a certain way, we may
have to take certain measures, like
separating ourselves from them, or
whatever. But we would do this with
understanding. It’s a completely
different experience to hold someone
responsible for something, and
address the situation from that
perspective, than to understand that
both they and you are victims of
this fate. Another way to understand
this is by considering a young
child. When a young child does
something wrong, we don’t ascribe
free will to them. They just don’t
know any better. They’re obviously
doing the best they can. So, what
happens? We treat that young child
with compassion, and kindness, and
caring. If we take that same
understanding that we naturally
ascribe to young children, because
we don’t believe they have a free
will, and we apply it toward each
other, that becomes the more
intelligent and compassionate way of
addressing the matter. From a
religious perspective, it makes
forgiveness far easier because, in
the final analysis, there is nothing
to forgive. If the person really
wasn’t to blame, we might want to
“forgive” them, but the
understanding that they are not
blameworthy truly means there is
nothing to forgive. We now
understand how coming to the
understanding that free will is an
illusion can help us to not blame
each other, and help prevent the
kind of conflict that blame causes.
Let’s consider guilt. When we do
wrong, we tend to blame ourselves.
When we blame ourselves, we
sometimes unconsciously punish
ourselves in some way or another.
That’s the free will perspective.
What happens when we understand that
free will is an illusion? We do
something wrong. Like in the first
case, we come to realize that it was
wrong. Our conscience can recognize
that we may have transgressed
against someone else, or against
ourselves, and make that
determination without our punishing
ourselves. In other words, we can
say to ourselves, “Fine, I realize
that I did wrong, but it wasn’t my
fault. I remain innocent.” That, of
course, doesn’t mean we’re going to
continue to do that wrong, because
once we understand that we’ve done
something wrong, it’s good, and
right, and in our best interest, to
correct ourselves. We don’t have to
punish ourselves. It would, in fact,
be wrong to punish ourselves for
what we could not help but do. Let’s
go to envy. Let’s imagine you’re
watching someone do something, and
you say to yourselves, “wow. I wish
I could do that.” With our free will
perspective, we conclude that they
did what they did of their own free
will, and we just can’t compare.
That person is just much better at
this. What does that lead to? It
leads to feelings of lower
self-esteem. It leads to our
devaluing ourselves. Self-esteem is
one of the four personality traits
that correlate most strongly with
happiness. To the extent that we
diminish our self-esteem, we likely
diminish our general well-being and
happiness. What’s the alternative?
When someone has done something
wonderful – a great discovery, or an
amazing athletic performance – and
we don’t ascribe a free will to that
person, we’re much less likely to
envy them. We might say to ourselves
“I wish that fate, or nature, or
God, had given me those kinds of
qualities,” but we wouldn’t compare
ourselves with the person in the
sense of ascribing those qualities
to the person’s free will, and
holding ourselves in lower regard as
a result. It wouldn’t make sense.
As we understand that we don’t have
a free will, we also prevent
arrogance. It’s good to feel good
about doing something well, even
when we know that it was not truly
up to us. For example, when many
sports stars are interviewed, they
talk about how they were lucky in
certain ways. They thank God, whom
they consider to have worked through
them. They are very humble in that
way. But when many of us do
something great, we think to
ourselves “wow, I’m special! I did
this of my own free will. I deserve
the credit and rewards.” The problem
with that kind of attribution is
that it naturally leads to our
comparing ourselves with others.
“I’m better than that person.” “I
deserve more than that other
person.” To the extent that we do
that, we get disconnected from each
other. This arrogance separates
people. When we understand that free
will is an illusion, we understand
that if we do something of value, we
can feel grateful that fate is using
us as an instrument for this act.
But, there would be no logical
reason for any kind of pride or
arrogance. It is not “we” who are
doing these things. We’re a vehicle,
or instrument, of God, or fate. We
recognize that we don’t have a free
will, and although we did something
great, we recognize that it’s really
fate’s doing. Through this
understanding, we remain humble. Our
interactions with others remain on a
more equal footing. We don’t sense
ourselves as any better than others,
and that helps keep us closer
together.
Because there is cause and effect,
and because we have an unconscious,
and because if we had a free will,
we would be completely happy and
completely moral, we don’t have a
free will. Then who, or what, are we
to hold accountable and responsible?
There’s an irony in this. Within the
Judeo-Christian tradition, when
something good happens, or we do
something good, the proper response
is appreciation and gratitude.
“Thank God.” “Thank Goodness.” We
say to ourselves that this good
could not have been done without
God. When we do good, we understand
that, but when we do what’s not so
good, all of the sudden it’s not
God’s or fate’s fault. These
religious traditions teach us that
when we do bad, it’s our fault. That
is the harm of the belief in free
will. What’s the reality? When
something good happens, it is the
result of God, or fate, or the
causal past, or the universe. When
something not so good happens,
again, it’s the result of God, or
fate, or the causal past, or the
universe. The remaining question is
whether or not God, or the universe,
has a free will? Personally, I hope
that God or the universe is as
completely compelled in what s/he
does as we human beings are. Before
I get into why I hope that, let’s
get a bit into the idea of God.
I was raised in the Judeo-Christian
religion, and I believe in God. I
like the belief in God. However,
some teachings certainly don’t make
sense. Let’s say our belief is that
God is all-good. We could then ask
ourselves whether or not God can
decide whether or not to be good. If
s/he is all-good, it would seem that
s/he would have to be all-good. S/he
therefore can’t have a free will.
Or, ask yourself whether God, if
s/he so decided, could suddenly
cease existing? Can God say “I don’t
want to be God anymore. I’m outta
here,” and then everything just
disappears? I don’t think so. If God
is compelled to be good, and if God
is compelled to be God, then maybe
God doesn’t have a free will either.
This question may be beyond our
reasoning ability, at least for the
time being. But if God, or the
universe, doesn’t have a free will
that would be good because there are
some things in this world that are
really bad, like the way we treat
farm animals. You would not believe
it. We basically torture them. To
the extent that we don’t have a free
will, we don’t have to blame
ourselves for this atrocity, but I
would hope that through compassion
we would come to their rescue.
Although we don’t have a free will,
it seems that God, or nature, tends
to reward us when we do good, and
punish us when we don’t. Therefore,
it would be wise for us to stop
torturing those animals, along with
lab animals and animals raised in
pet mills. If God, or nature,
doesn’t have a free will either,
then we cannot justly blame God or
nature for this cruelty. Granted, if
we don’t blame God or nature,
something must be responsible, and
this prospect leads us into a
conundrum wherein God would have to
be responsible if God created
everything. But to the extent that
we hold God blameless, it would help
us to be closer to, and less
judgmental of, God. The illusion of
free will does far more harm than
good. Without it, we wouldn’t blame
each other and ourselves. We
wouldn’t feel that we were better
than others. We wouldn’t feel
arrogant. We wouldn’t punish
ourselves when we did wrong. We
would understand that we did wrong,
and would hopefully try to correct
ourselves. We also wouldn’t feel
envious toward others. This would
all translate to a much kinder, and
better, world.
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