The two main positions about free will by those who already accept physical determinism are these:
a. They are incompatible: determinism completely effaces the possibility of free will;
b. They are compatible: although determinism may be true, and our actions controlled by the laws of physics, we can construe a definition of free will that is compatibile with this (“compatibilism”).
I’ve discussed the varieties of compatibilism before (which themselves are incompatible with each other), and don’t intend to do so here. Rather, I am trying to understand a new hypothesis that is said to give us some room for “true” free will.
Most philosophers who are determinists agree with b., but, as I’ve repeatedly made clear, I think the definition of “free will” as a species of action compatible with us being puppets to physical laws is just a semantic trick. The fact is that most people are dualists, conceiving of free will as a form of agency that allows us to choose any of several paths at a given point, and this is a rejection of determinism. (Those people fit in neither a nor b; they accept that determinism precludes free will only if determinism is all there is.)
To redefine “free will” as something other than how most people construe it is akin to redefining God as “love” or “the universe”: a similar semantic trick used by Sophisticated Theologians™ to allow people to accept that there’s a God in the absence of evidence for a deity. (Most believers, however, accept a theistic God—one who is personal and interacts with the Universe.) Both compatibilism and Sophisticated Theology™ have as part of their brief an attempt to reassure the less sophisticated Little People that there really is something that can give them comfort: either God or personal agency.
In a new post at BackReAction called “Limits of Reductionism,” Sabine Hossenfelder, a theoretical physicist and a fellow at at the Frankfurt Institute for Advanced Studies, tries to save free will in a weird and unconvincing way—indeed, even she doesn’t appear convinced by her lucubrations. (The post is a précis of a longer, prize-winning essay she wrote called “The case for strong emergence.“)
In short, Hossenfelder’s thesis is this: she is a physical determinist, which appears to buttress the incompatibilism of (a), but nevertheless maintains that there just could be a singularity in the nature of physical law, so that although humans are made of molecules that obey the laws of physics, one simply can’t extrapolate those laws up to human behavior because there is a “singularity” that precludes such extrapolationism. In other words, at some point physical law resets itself, and that point occurs below the complexity of the human brain.
Most people, including Hossenfelder, accept that while we may not be able to predict higher-order phenomena like human choice from the laws of physics, it must be consistent with the laws of physics. It is this consistency that Hossenfelder says might not obtain. And if that’s not true, then poof!—we could have free will. Or so she suggests.
Now Hossenfelder is neither a compatibilist nor a dualist, as she makes clear in her BackReAction essay; rather, she appears to be a physical determinist who believes that there are at least two sets of physical laws, one of which somehow gives us real free will. Some quotes:
Her rejection of compatibilism, with which I agree:
Now, there are a lot of people who want you to accept watered-down versions of free will, eg that you have free will because no one can in practice predict your behavior, or because no one can tell what’s going on in your brain, and so on. But I think this is just verbal gymnastics. If you accept that the current theories of particle physics are correct, free will doesn’t exist in a meaningful way.
The dependence of hard determinism on physical reductionism (my emphasis):
That is as long as you believe – as almost all physicists do – that the laws that dictate the behavior of large objects follow from the laws that dictate the behavior of the object’s constituents. That’s what reductionism tells us, and let me emphasize that reductionism is not a philosophy, it’s an empirically well-established fact. It describes what we observe. There are no known exceptions to it.
And we have methods to derive the laws of large objects from the laws for small objects. In this case, then, we know that predictive laws for human behavior exist, it’s just that in practice we can’t compute them. It is the formalism of effective field theories that tells us just what is the relation between the behavior of large objects and their interactions to the behavior of smaller objects and their interactions.
But Hossenfelder, as she says above accepts as a “fact” pure reductionism since we have no counterexamples:
There are a few examples in the literature where people have tried to find systems for which the behavior on large scales cannot be computed from the behavior at small scales. But these examples use unrealistic systems with an infinite number of constituents and I don’t find them convincing cases against reductionism.
Nevertheless (and I admit that what she’s pondering may be above my pay grade), Hossenfelder finds a way to posit the possibility of “free will” by imagining a singularity in the extrapolation of small-scale physical forces, so one not only can’t predict large-scale phenomena from small-scale ones, but also conclude that large-scale phenomena need not be consistent with the laws of physics governing small entities like particles:
It occurred to me some years ago, however, that there is a much simpler example for how reductionism can fail. It can fail simply because the extrapolation from the theory at short distances to the one at long distances is not possible without inputting further information. This can happen if the scale-dependence of a constant has a singularity, and that’s something which we cannot presently exclude.
With singularity I here do not mean a divergence, ie that something becomes infinitely large. Such situations are unphysical and not cases I would consider plausible for realistic systems. But functions can have singularities without anything becoming infinite: A singularity is merely a point beyond which a function cannot be continued.
I do not currently know of any example for which this actually happens. But I also don’t know a way to exclude it.
Well, she’s positing a singularity for which there is no evidence. Why should we take it seriously? It is as if we posit that every four billion years the laws of physics that govern the motion of the planets are suspended for one second—a singularity in time. We have no evidence for that, either, so why take it seriously? Since we cannot “exclude” her supposition, or mine, why should we take them seriously? We cannot absolutely exclude the singularity in planetary motion that I just mentioned, just as we can’t exclude the existence of an invisible tooth fairy. But why do we even need to think about them? Note again that Hossenfelder admits that there is no evidence for her singularity.
Indeed, I’d maintain that we have evidence against it. After all, the behavior of macro objects in space, like rockets or the ageing of humans within them, shows no such singularity: such motion can be predicted by the same laws that govern small molecules. Further, even “macro” behavior of humans, in terms of the firing of neurons, our physiology and biochemistry, and so on, can be reduced to the laws of chemistry, which themselves are consistent with the laws of physics. So if the behavior of our neurons and our innards show no such singularities, why does Hossenfeld imagine that a singularity would apply to human behavior, which, as far as we can see, can be reduced to the material structure of our brain?
At the end Hossenfelder pulls her free-will rabbit out of a hat for which we have no evidence. Note her last sentence, in which she implies that people WANT to believe in nonreductionist free will, which is sort of a form of dualism. Hossenfelder’s dualism is not the invocation of supernatural forces or numinous “will” alongside physical law, but a dualism of the laws of physics themselves (my emphasis):
Now consider you want to derive the theory for the large objects (think humans) from the theory for the small objects (think elementary particles) but in your derivation you find that one of the functions has a singularity at some scale in between. This means you need new initial values past the singularity. It’s a clean example for a failure of reductionism, and it implies that the laws for large objects indeed might not follow from the laws for small objects.
It will take more than this to convince me that free will isn’t an illusion, but this example for the failure of reductionism gives you an excuse to continue believing in free will.
Just like redefining “God” as “the Universe” or “love” gives us an excuse to continue believing in God!
Further, as far as I can see (and again I confess my failure to grasp how this “singularity” works), a new set of physical laws that begins somewhere above the agglomeration of molecules into organisms is still physical law. So how does that give us agency or freedom in the sense that most people construe free will: as a dualistic form of overriding physical law with our brains? A physical law gives us no agency or freedom, no matter on which scale it obtains.
Readers are welcome to enlighten me, and to attempt to show others in simple language how Hossenfelder’s speculation allows us TRUE free will (the could-have-done-otherwise kind). I don’t get it myself.
By the way, since Hossenfelder doesn’t accept compatibilism, please don’t argue for compatibilism in the comments. We’re concerned here with her own hypothesis, which is explicitly non-compatibilistic.
h/t: John







