In his 2023 bestseller, Determined, neuroscientist Robert Sapolsky argued that the interaction of biology and environment leaves no room for free choice. Philosopher and neuroscientist Sam Harris puts the case more bluntly: “free will is an illusion”.
However, prominent voices in psychology and the media have warned that telling people free will is an illusion is dangerous. The concern draws on a body of psychological research suggesting that when people’s belief in free will is undermined, the consequences can be troubling: more cheating, more aggression, less helpfulness.
But my recent research, including a new study published in the British Journal of Social Psychology, suggests this picture is incomplete and misleading. In fact, it shows that accepting free will is an illusion can reduce hatred and shame, and increase forgiveness.
Forgiveness, not chaos
Free will is commonly defined as the idea that people could have done otherwise in a moment of choice, free from the prior grip of genes, upbringing and circumstance. Crucially, this isn’t rescued by mere randomness, as a random act would be a matter of luck rather than an expression of free will.
Across two recent experiments, my colleague Brock Bastian and I exposed participants to arguments that free will doesn’t exist. We then measured how participants responded to real memories of wrongdoing.
In the first experiment, we asked 260 participants to write about a time they had hurt someone – a memory designed to evoke shame and self-blame. After reading arguments that free will doesn’t exist, participants in that group were significantly more self-forgiving than those who had read material saying humans have free will.
In the second experiment, 262 participants wrote about a time someone had hurt them. Those exposed to the same arguments that free will doesn’t exist were more forgiving of the person who wronged them. They also felt significantly less hatred toward them.
Crucially, in both studies, participants’ sense of accountability remained intact.
They still agreed that they (or their transgressor) were responsible for their actions, that the behaviour was their fault, and that people should make efforts to avoid causing harm. Rather than reducing their sense of responsibility, it reduced the emotional intensity of their blame.
These experimental findings are supported by our new study.
We surveyed 8,917 people across 44 countries over several months. In the survey, we measured level of belief in free will (using a validated measure of free will belief) and punitive attitudes toward everyday moral transgressions.
We had participants read a series of vignettes detailing an everyday moral transgression (for example, lying or being selfish). After each vignette they were asked “how deserving is this person of punishment?”, answering on a scale from one (not at all) to seven (very much).
We found that stronger belief in free will was associated with harsher punitive responses to everyday wrongdoing.
This suggests this isn’t just a laboratory phenomenon, but something that plays out in how people actually navigate conflict and transgression around the world.
Why this matters
Hatred and shame are among the most psychologically corrosive emotions we experience.
Shame is consistently linked to depression, anxiety and suicide. Hatred fuels interpersonal conflict, revenge and relationship breakdown, and is also corrosive for the person carrying it.
By contrast, forgiveness of self and of others are highly robust predictors of psychological wellbeing and healthier relationships.
What our findings suggest is that undermining belief in free will doesn’t send people into moral freefall. Instead, it appears to soften the harshest edges of how we judge ourselves and others (the spite, the self-loathing) while leaving the functional scaffolding of responsibility in place. People still hold themselves and others accountable. They just do it with less venom.
This pattern echoes what researchers have called “civilising blame” – the idea you can temper the emotional brutality of moral judgement without abandoning the concept of responsibility altogether.
Rethinking the warning
None of this means belief in free will is entirely harmful, or that rejecting it is a cure-all.
There are legitimate concerns about excessive self-forgiveness reducing motivation to change. Some earlier findings suggest valid potential downsides of free-will scepticism, such as increased cheating. It’s worth noting, however, that these findings have often failed to be replicated.
But the blanket warning that we should not tell people free will is an illusion deserves serious scrutiny.
Philosopher John Searle once suggested that seeing free will as an illusion would be “a bigger revolution in our thinking than Einstein, or Copernicus, or Newton, or Galileo, or Darwin – it would alter our whole conception of our relation to the universe”. Whether or not that day comes, the scientific pressure on free will is only growing, and people will continue to encounter these arguments.
The question, then, is not whether this message will reach the public, but how we deliver it.
Our research offers reason for optimism: even without careful philosophical caveats about the importance of responsibility, people appear to naturally sustain their sense of accountability.
What falls away is the cruelty we attach to responsibility.
This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.
