Inspiring Philosophy's Loopy Lark through the Land of Logic

If there is one thing you can always count on from an Inspiring Philosophy (IP) video, it is a philosophical train wreck of muddled confusion. So when IP finally came out with a video called The Laws of Logic Defended, you would think this should have been the first presentation I could actually get behind. After all, I like to consider myself a pretty logical guy, and I even have some formal training in mathematical logic and proof theory. Unfortunately, IP is not your ordinary, everyday apologist. Even when it comes to something as simple as a defense of basic logic, he still cannot help but get his entire presentation wrong. Not just erroneous, mind you, but often deliberately manipulative and transparently unethical.

To give a crude analogy, suppose someone is about to argue against the recreational use of heroine. In principle, this is something we should all be able to agree upon because heroin is highly addictive and mentally disabling. But what if the principle argument was that too much heroin literally causes your skin to turn inside out? Or that heroin is a mechanism for injecting demons into your body and getting possessed by Satan? That’s what it’s like to listen to IP defend logic.

Speaking broadly, the single, foundational blunder that permeates this entire presentation is the simple fact that IP does not understand logic. He does not know what logic is, he does not know how logic works, and he has no clue that logic is an ever-changing human construction. In IP’s world, logic is like an ethereal force interwoven into the fabric of space and time. At one point, he even draws a picture of the universe resting inside a bubble of logic, as if the laws of logic somehow encompass the physical behavior of nature itself. It’s a dead giveaway that the guy has never even touched an actual textbook on the subject. He has no authority whatsoever, yet he still felt the overwhelming compulsion to put together an entire video anyway.

I personally find this sort of behavior highly irritating. To me, it is inherently dishonest to pretend to be an expert in things you obviously do not understand. In IP’s case, however, I have to wonder if it might just be a classic example of Dunning-Kruger effect. The guy is so woefully uneducated about logic that he literally cannot fathom how uneducated he is. He thus self-evaluates as being rather competent and then plows right ahead with full confidence.

For what it’s worth, the word logic does tend to mean different things under different circumstances, which makes it somewhat forgivable that most people do not really understand it. If, however, you actually open a formal textbook on the subject, then there is a consistent theme on which experts do tend to agree: Logic is essentially a bunch of highly formalized rules built into human language. For example, the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy says that:

A logic consists of a formal or informal language together with a deductive system and/or a model-theoretic semantics.

The immediate implication is that there is no such thing as a singularly “correct” logic, but rather a varied assortment of competing and complementary logics, each with their own distinct areas of focus. At best, you can really only speak of “good” logics that are meaningful and descriptive for certain applications, and “bad” logics that fail to help us communicate effectively. When you follow the rules of logic in your speech, then we would simply say that you are being logical. Conversely, when you fail to express an argument through the rules of logic, then you are simply not being logical.

This is an important point to emphasize, because it immediately undermines IP’s entire argument before he even opens his mouth. To quote his own definition,

Logic simply is a description of everything that is and everything that is possible. 

This is very clearly an embarrassing misconception. How on Earth does IP expect to defend the laws of logic when he cannot even define that word correctly? It reminds me of the old adage about playing checkers against an opponent who is playing chess. Only in IP’s case, it’s more like he’s playing Go Fish with a sack of marbles while all the chess players are in a different building down the street.

Another thing that really jumps out at me from this presentation is the way in which IP deliberately lies and manipulates for no reason. His use of weasel words is particularly blatant, but he also has a bad habit of cherry-picking, quote-mining, and oddly-ambiguous phrasing. There is even a thinly-veiled attack against atheists, as if atheists have to literally deny logic in order to deny the existence of God. It’s all so clumsy, too, and it really makes me wonder how this guy could possibly gather such a loyal fan base. But loyal they are, and IP no doubt earns quite the generous income from his many donations. That’s why I feel compelled to publicly analyze his arguments in detail so that maybe a few of his potential sponsors find something better to do with their money.

To begin, IP opens as he always does by saying something really weird.

Can we trust the laws of logic? Is logic safe from criticism? Or is it just another man-made construct built on sand? 

I realize that IP is being somewhat rhetorical here, but the very nature of his questions reveal a profound bias. Namely, what exactly does IP have against “man-made constructs?” The conversation has barely even begun, and he is already imposing a rather bizarre presupposition. Either logic is a transcendent, singular force unto itself, or it is nothing but a worthless creation from a bunch of bumbling morons. He speaks as if human beings are utterly incapable of creating a formal system of logic that has any significant value.

Another funny thing about this opener is IP’s use of the word “trust.” Pray tell, what does it even mean to trust the laws of logic? IP is speaking as if we cannot directly justify the use of logic, but must instead take it on a kind of faith. It’s a constant theme that permeates the entire discussion, and it shows how little IP understands about the nature of logic.

The next question that needs to be asked at this point is, Exactly which "laws of logic" is IP referring to? As I said earlier, there is no such thing as a singular, unifying school of logic. There are actually many distinct systems of logic, all with competing interpretations within them. Not all of these logics are even compatible with each other, either, which means sooner or later you have to pick and choose which logics you intend to apply. I assume from the context that IP is defending classical propositional logic, but he also seems to reject several tenets of that system as this video progresses.

Remember that logic is not a force to be trusted; it is a tool to be exercised. The reason why logic seems to work so well at "describing the universe" is because we specifically invented logic to help us do exactly that. If logic were not useful at formulating meaningful arguments, then we would simply discard it and invent something else that does (and then call that thing “logic” instead). Thus, for all practical purposes, people who fail to exercise logic are essentially using words incorrectly. The consequence is nothing more than ambiguity and miscommunication.

Many argue the laws of logic are not true, and use a form of Russel’s paradox to show this.

Notice that we’re not even 30 seconds into the video, and IP is either being inexcusably lazy, or just outright dishonest. The phrase “many argue” is a textbook example of Weasel Words---a deliberate manipulation tactic designed to make an argument appear more relevant than it actually is. It is also intentionally vague enough so that we are unable to check out the source for ourselves. For instance, who exactly are these “many” people supposed to be? How influential are they? Where can I read their arguments for myself? Are these people serious academics with PhDs? Or is IP getting this from Billy, the angry basement-dweller with an internet connection? He simply does not say. We are therefore left wondering whether such people even exist at all, or if they are just a figment of IP’s imagination.

It turns out that I’m not the only person to ask these questions, and there are plenty of comments on his video wondering the same thing. On at least one occasion, IP actually gave an answer, which you can see here:

There's our answer, folks. This entire video is a response to some random anonymous doofus on the internet. Thank you, Inspiring Philosophy, for saving us from this terrible menace.

The thing that makes this even more infuriating is the way in which IP specifically frames it all as a direct accusation against atheists. He does not come out and say it in so many words, but that is exactly how his fans have interpreted it. A simple perusal of his video comment section quickly reveals dozens of fanboys railing against the silly atheists, and IP makes zero effort to publicly correct this perception. Just look:

So it’s not that atheists are all out there denying logic; it's just that a bunch of atheists are out there denying logic. At least, that's the interpretation IP is more than happy to encourage.

Here is a simple argument of how they try to show the laws of logic are not true or objective.

Premise 1: Assume that the laws of logic are true.
Premise 2: All propositions are either true or false.

Premise 3: The proposition "This proposition is false” is neither true nor false.
Premise 4: There exists at least one proposition that is neither true nor false.
Premise 5: It is not the case that all propositions are either true or false.
Premise 6: It both is and is not the case that all propositions are either true or false.

Notice again that IP gives zero citations as to where exactly this mysterious argument is coming from. I even tried to Google it myself, but I could not find a single example of anything remotely similar. It therefore seems to me that, for all practical purposes, IP might as well be inventing it out of nothing. I don’t know what to say, other than congratulations on your amazing straw man, dude.

But hey, if that’s how IP wants to play it, then fine. I can play that game too. According to some, reason and logic are enemies of God. In fact, here are some direct quotes to that effect:

Reason is a whore, the greatest enemy that faith has; it never comes to the aid of spiritual things, but more frequently than not struggles against the divine Word, treating with contempt all that emanates from God.

Or it that wasn’t convincing, here’s another doozy:

If, somewhere within the Bible, I were to find a passage that said 2+2=5, I wouldn’t question what I’m reading in the Bible. I would believe it, accept it as true, and then do my best to work it out and to understand it.

Still not satisfied? How about this one?

It is entirely right, rational, reasonable, and proper to believe in God without any evidence or argument at all.

The irony here is that I don’t have to hide behind weasel words to make my point. The first quote is from Martin Luther, the second quote is from Pastor Peter LaRuffa, and the third is from Alvin Plantinga---all Christians of significant influence and notoriety. So if IP wants to pick on atheists for denying logic, then perhaps he should take a cold, hard look at his own camp, first. People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.

So if this argument works, it would show we cannot trust the laws of logic. However, there are several problems with this argument and line of reasoning that need to be addressed. First, the argument breaks down in premise 2. Not all propositions are either true or false. 

The premise that all propositions are either true or false is called bivalence, and it is a core presumption in classical propositional logic. That means when IP rejects this principle, he is effectively rejecting a fundamental law of logic in order to defend the laws of logic. That’s not a very good start.

In principle, IP could easily avoid this little trap by simply admitting to the existence of different systems of logic. But you have to remember that IP views logic as an objectively potent force unto itself, independent of human intervention. He is therefore not allowed to accept logic as a human invention because that would immediately render it unreliable (i.e., “built on sand”). So no matter how IP proceeds, he has no choice but to trip over his own ignorance and bias. The result, as we shall see, is a clumsy mess of awkward nonsense.

A proposition can be defined as a statement or assertion that expresses a judgement or opinion.

Sentences like this are hilarious to me because they perfectly demonstrate how little IP has studied logic. When I Googled the word “proposition,” this was the verbatim definition that came up in my search. However, when I actually looked up the definition from an academic source, the result was something very different. According to Richard E. Hodel’s textbook, An Introduction to Mathematical Logic, a simple proposition is a declarative sentence that is either true or false and has no connectives. Likewise, a proposition is a declarative sentence that either is a simple proposition or is built up from simple propositions using one or more of the connectives not, or, and, if-then, and if-and-only-if.

To be fair, the distinction between these two definitions is a bit subtle, but it does illustrate the extent of IP’s “research” for these videos. He completely avoids any contact with authentic, scholarly references, but instead relies entirely on 10-second Google searches to get his information. It also shows that, again, classical logic requires all propositions must be either true or false. IP is flat-out denying a fundamental law of logic in his defense of the laws of logic.

Consider the statement “Easter is the best holiday.” This cannot be proven true or false. It is just an expression of opinion.

I find it truly baffling that IP thinks this is supposed to be compelling. All we have to do is ask ourselves what exactly we mean by that statement. For example, if we take this proposition to mean “It is my opinion that Easter is the best holiday,” then we absolutely have a statement of truth. Sure, it may just be my opinion that Easter is the best holiday, but it is verifiably true that I hold to this opinion (or, if I do not hold such an opinion, then it would be false).

Alternatively, we could take this proposition to mean something more like “It is an objective fact that Easter is the best holiday.” However, that proposition has a truth value as well. By definition, opinions are subjective facts that only apply to individuals and their preferences. It is therefore a contradiction in terms to speak of an objectively correct opinion, and the proposition simply becomes false.

So no matter how we interpret his proposition, there exists a definite assignment of truth. IP’s very best example of an unprovable proposition is almost trivially easy to prove (depending on how you interpret it).

So you can have propositions that are neither true nor false. Nothing in logic or language denies this.

Again, classical bivalent logic absolutely denies the existence of any “alternative” truth values beyond true and false. I don’t know what else I can say to this, other than IP is just categorically wrong.

The sad thing about all this is that IP is actually headed in a very worthwhile direction with his discussion. The Liar’s paradox is a textbook example of the kind of proposition that binary logic struggles to deal with. That’s why we have, for example, systems of tri-state logic. Unfortunately, that would again require IP to acknowledge the existence of multiple logics, which he has specifically refused to do from the outset. It would also force him to completely overhaul his entire conception of truth itself.

Remember that IP thinks logic is an objective force of nature unto itself and thus independent of human design. By the same token, IP also tends to think of truth itself as something very similar. If we take the more modern approach, however, then truth is just a label that we assign to propositions. This immediately solves the liar's paradox by rendering it undecidable because there is no procedure you can apply through axioms and rules of inference to arrive at a final truth value (at least, not if you want to preserve consistency). The only problem with this approach is that it forces us to give up on any platonic ideal of truth. Truth, in effect, is reduced in meaning to the bare procedure that was constructed to assign it (at least, for analytic propositions it is). For us pragmatists, that's perfectly acceptable because we're not interested in some nonsensical platonic ideal of truthiness. We just want a system of communication that allows us to talk at each other effectively. For IP, unfortunately, that's not allowed. He has to believe in his magical world of metaphysical mystery.

So the rest of the argument breaks down if premise 2 doesn’t even work. So building on that, let’s consider this statement:

“Carloman was murdered by his brother Charlemagne so he could have the throne for himself.”

This statement is either true or false. However, we cannot be sure if it is true due to lack of information. We do not have enough records or evidence to confirm whether or not Carloman was murdered or died naturally. It is simply beyond the scope of our knowledge today. Which brings us to the next problem with this argument. This argument itself is based on Gödel’s theorems, which many think shows logic doesn’t work. But in a nutshell, they actually only show that no consistent system of axioms, whose theorems can be listed by an “effective procedure” is capable of proving all truth. In other words, Gödel’s theorems show we cannot fully prove something is true, just because it seems like it is or is consistent. All Gödel did was show we are limited in having total proof of something. But even without Gödel, that is intuitively obvious. Many things will always just be 99% probably true, but absolute certainty will always be beyond our reach.

This paragraph is so hopelessly muddled that I literally stared at it in confusion for two minutes before thinking of something to say. For starters, the uncertainty surrounding Carlomon’s death has absolutely nothing to do with Gödel’s incompleteness theorems. That’s because Carlomon's death is a matter of synthetic propositions where truth is assigned in accordance with a preponderance of empirical data. In contrast, Gödel’s theorems are a statement about the nature of language itself. More specifically, they have to do with the ability to derive theorems out of axioms through the formal exercise of rules of inference. IP's attempt to somehow conflate the two is just clumsy. It’s as he's just mish-mashing a bunch of fancy words together in the hopes that it will make him sound all smart and sophisticated to his fans. For those of us who are actually trained in the material, however, it is almost painfully obvious that IP has no clue what he’s even talking about.

Secondly, notice the repeated use of weasel words: Many think that Gödel’s theorems show logic doesn’t work. Seriously, who exactly are these people? I have never once encountered a single human being in the entire universe who claims this. IP is again arguing against total phantoms, all with the same unspoken subtext that, no really, it’s atheists.

Thirdly, IP has deliberately misrepresented Gödel’s theorems. The quote he gave here was copied verbatim from Wikipedia, but with a few key words removed. For reference, this is the actual quote in its entirety, but with the missing bits underlined:

The first incompleteness theorem states that no consistent system of axioms whose theorems can be listed by an effective procedure (i.e., an algorithm) is capable of proving all truths about the arithmetic of the natural numbers.

Notice that IP specifically removed any mention of arithmetic and natural numbers. This is important, because it limits the context in a way that contradicts IP’s interpretation. He must have done this on purpose, too, because I see no possible way to accidentally remove such a key piece of information. The guy just flat-out lied to his audience, all so he could invent some obtuse interpretation about logic that doesn’t even apply to its original context.

So because of that, we can also deny premise 3 and say that it is a false dichotomy.

This sentence is especially confusing, in that IP is now outright contradicting himself. He just spent the last two paragraphs explaining in great detail that not all propositions have to be true or false, and now he is denying a premise claiming that not all propositions have to be true or false! Seriously. Read that premise again:

Premise 3: The proposition “This proposition is false” is neither true nor false.

You just categorically denied the very thing you set out to prove, you imbecile!

I can explain how and why if we reduce the problem to mathematics, which can show the statement “this statement is false” can actually be solved. Allow me to explain using the work of G. Spencer Brown.

The proposition can be represented as X = -1/X. Now like the statement in our argument, if you try to solve with x = 1, the equation will yield negative 1. If you try X = -1, then positive 1 comes back. The solution oscillates between one and negative one, like true or false. One being true, and negative one being false, just like our proposition. If you say it is true, then it can’t be because it claims it is false. If you say it is false, then it cannot be true in claiming it is false. Same problem, just represented mathematically.

So how do we escape this vicious cycle? The solution is to use i, which is also the same as the square-root of negative one. If you substitute x for i, you get i = -1/i, and negative one over i is also i. Thus, mathematically, the problem can be solved, because i transcends the paradox.

This is the part where IP really flies off the rails, and it is truly baffling where he got the idea to present this information. For starters, G. Spencer Brown is essentially no one. The guy has almost no historical significance or philosophical influence to speak of. Secondly, I attempted briefly to read through G. Spencer Brown’s book, and all I found was a meaningless word salad of incoherent gibberish. To illustrate, these are the first words Brown writes in the forward to the text:

The theme of this book is that a universe comes into being when a space is severed or taken apart. The skin of a living organism cuts off an outside from an inside. So does the circumference of a circle in a plane. By tracing the way we represent such a severance, we can begin to reconstruct… the basic forms underlying linguistic, mathematical physical, and biological science, and can begin to see how the familiar laws of our own experience follow inexorably from the original act of severance. 

The book pretty much rambles endlessly in this style of prose, and it only gets worse the deeper you dig into it. The idea that IP actually read through this thing in any rigorous detail is therefore just laughable to me. It’s like the guy randomly found this book in his attic one day and decided to shoe-horn it into his presentation.

Academic credentials aside, I still did my best to charitably interpret the underlying train of thought. Basically, Brown is saying that the equation x^2 = -1 has no solution within the set of natural numbers. Thus, something other than a natural number is required in order to solve it. By analogy, classical binary logic cannot assign a truth value to the Liar’s paradox. Thus, a new system of logical truth values must be invented that does.

This stuff is important, because it completely undermines IP’s central thesis---the idea that the laws of logic can be “trusted.” Clearly the laws of classical binary logic are not trustworthy because they completely break down when exposed to self-referential negations (remember, this is IP’s own argument!). In practice, the usual way to solve the problem is to simply invent a new system of logic that rejects bivalence. In a sense, that’s exactly what IP even suggests, too, but he seems to be utterly incapable of realizing it. Instead, he seems to think that some universal, capital-L “Logic” must have existed the entire time, and really we humans were just applying the wrong logic from the beginning.

To make matters even more awkward, IP seems to treat imaginary numbers as a mysterious mathematical entity with properties totally beyond our comprehension.

The only problem is that we cannot epistemically understand the mathematical usage of i.

This claim is just laughable. Mathematicians are very well-acquainted with the “mathematical usage of i.” The imaginary unit is, by definition, the number that produces -1 when squared (Seriously, that’s all it is). It is no more transcendent or mysterious than the idea that -1 is, by definition, the number that produces zero when incremented. IP quite obviously does not understand any of this, and he is apparently just projecting that ignorance onto all mathematicians and philosophers across the globe.

Thus, Godel was proven right, and not the absolute skeptic who doubts logic is true.

I’m just going to recap IP’s argument over the last few sentences and see if you can make sense out of it.

1. Imaginary numbers "transcend" integers.
2. By analogy, the liar's paradox transcends true and false.
3. Therefore, Gödel was right.
4. Therefore, logic is true.

Seriously, dude. How do you have patrons?

There is no contradiction in logic. We just cannot know or prove all truth or fully understand everything. Just like with our proposition, we cannot know the answer due to our epistemic limits. But the fact that we are limited and unable to totally prove logic does not mean the laws of logic are not true.

Now it almost sounds as if IP thinks we cannot even prove logic. That is to say, we cannot prove how Carlomon was killed because of “epistemic limits,” even if we are perhaps very confident of a particular answer. By the same token, we cannot exactly prove logic per se, but just have to take it on a kind of faith.

This is again a classic example of how little IP understands logic. Starting with a few definitions of some basic terms (e.g., true-value, axiom, connective, etc.), plus a few basic rules of inference, it is actually very easy to derive every so-called “law of logic” you can think of. It’s all right there in every standard textbook on mathematical logic, and it does not require any faith or trust. All it requires is your willingness to abide by some simple definitions and rules.

The other thing to remember is that you just cannot deny the laws of logic. Any attack on the laws of logic is self-refuting.

As the philosopher Thomas Nagel says,

“We cannot criticize some of our own claims of reason without employing reason at some point to formulate and support those criticisms.”

In other words, to attack the laws of logic, you have to assume your attack on logic is logically formulated. If you actually didn’t think the laws of logic we true, you would not be relying on logical reasoning to show the laws of logic are not true. It completely undermines your very argument, because showing your conclusion, the laws of logic are not true, means your logical reasoning used to acquire that conclusion didn’t work.

It’s called a proof by contradiction, you jackass. I've seen you use it a hundred times in your own videos. The argument you gave us assumed a very specific law of logic, only to derive a conclusion that violated the laws of logic. You cannot complain about “self-refuting arguments” when the very logic you speak of is also apparently self-refuting. Either bivalence is a law of logic, or it is not. If it is, then we have a contradiction, and logic is screwed. It not, then everything is fine and dandy.

This is of course because it is also impossible to think or imagine something where logic doesn’t apply. You can’t simply escape logic and step outside of it like a set of boundaries. It is not something changeable. If something is outside of logic, then it is nothing. Logic simply is a description of everything that is and everything that is possible. Nothing can be outside of logic, so to speak. Any thought you have will be logical and definable in some sense.

Here, let me show you something:

It is true that I am married and it is true that I am not married.

There. I just violated logic. What are you going to do about it?

Notice that the universe did not implode on itself, nor did any philosophical logic police come rushing to arrest me. All I did was put words together wrongly, and so your brain failed to cohere them into a meaningful idea. That’s what happens when you violate logic.

The reason why it is so difficult to describe something where logic doesn’t apply is because logic itself is the basis by which we describe things in the first place. Logic is a formal set of rules built into language. If, however, you start viewing the world through the eyes of a creature without language skills (say, for example, a dog or cat), then all of a sudden it becomes very easy to navigate the world without logic. Just act entirely on stimulus and instinct, making no use of formal propositions in your behavior. That is a world entirely outside of any formal logic.

As Nagel says, “in skepticism about logic, we can never reach a point at which we have two possibilities with which all the evidence is compatible and between which it is therefore impossible to choose. The forms of thought that must be used in any attempt to set up such an alternative force themselves to the top of the heap. I cannot think, for example, that I would be in an epistemically identical situation if 2+2 equaled five, but my brains were being scrambled—because I cannot conceive of 2+2 being equal to five. The epistemological skeptic relies on reason to get us to a neutral point above the level of thoughts that are the object of skepticism. The logical skeptic can offer no such external platform.”

Basically, Nagel thinks you have to assume logic to deny logic. At least, that’s what I think he’s trying to say, because it’s nigh-impossible to confidently interpret this incoherent word salad. He also commits a blatant fallacy of arguing from ignorance, too. For example, in the world of modular arithmetic, it is actually perfectly consistent and meaningful to let 12+1 = 1. We even do it all the time in real life. It’s called a clock. This entire paragraph does nothing except show to the world that Thomas Nagel apparently doesn’t understand logic any better than IP does.

If you’re dealing with an epistemic skeptic, a good position to remember is particularism. Particularism is a formal response to the skeptic who doubts logic and knowledge.

We do not doubt or are skeptical of something unless we are given good reason to think so.

For example, we do not doubt all the mathematical knowledge which shows us 2+2=4. Unless the skeptic can give us reason to think so. We do not doubt we are conscious and our cognitive faculties work, unless the skeptic can give us reason to think so. The skeptic of course disagrees, and thinks we need to prove knowledge claims are 100 percent true, or else we should doubt them. The particularist turns this on the skeptic, and reminds him/her we do not doubt knowledge or intuition unless the skeptic can give us good reason to think we should. For example, perhaps we doubt our intuitive perspective “the sun is small than the earth,” because we have good evidence in astronomy and physics to think so. However, we do not doubt things like the laws of logic because we don’t have good reasons, like with the size of the sun, to doubt them. And the skeptic has not provided any, other than the mere possibility they might be false and that we cannot be 100% sure.  But those are not good enough reasons to throw out knowledge and intuition.

So because not all propositions need to be true, we have already accepted we cannot be 100% certain in truth of all things. Attacks on the laws of logic are self-defeating. Through particularism, we have no reason to doubt our knowledge. We can see the attack on logic is an utter failure. The epistemic skeptic does nothing more than a clever trick, and fearmongering from a mere possibility. The laws of logic are objectively true, and there is no reason to doubt them.

Yeah, whatever. I don’t even care anymore. Virtually everything IP has said up to this point was categorically wrong, and even occasionally outright deceptive. This entire discussion could have been completely avoided with a single sentence:

It is not necessary to impose such a strict interpretation of bivalence onto logic. 

BAM. Problem solved. Instead, we have to wade through this endless quagmire because IP doesn't know what a "textbook" is.

The sad thing about all of this is that IP works very hard to assemble these arguments in defense of Christianity. Yet, as this essay clearly shows, IP does not even have a grasp on the basic fundamentals of logic itself. At the same time, however, he seems to think very highly of his ability to do logic. He is thus cursed with a high degree of confidence that only leads to a series of embarrassing failures with each and every presentation. That sadness is only amplified even further by the deliberate malice and manipulation he brings to the discussion. How does this guy ever expect to make a compelling case for Christ when he cannot even educate himself on the very rules of reason itself?

Thanks for reading.

Inspiring Philosophy and Omnipotence

I've been getting a bunch of requests to review Inspiring Philosophy's video on omnipotence. You can view the link here.

Overall, I appreciate how IP tries to tear apart absolutism, but the way in which he goes about it is just bizarre. He seems to think that atheists are the only humans in existence who have ever held to the idea of absolutism, and he completely ignores the vast multitude of Christians who likewise hold a similar position. He also has a strangely binary view on the subject. He props up two opposing definitions for omnipotence as if they were the only ones in existence, and then he makes it out as if only Christians hold to the "good" view while only atheists ever defend the "bad" view. Lastly, his personal view of omnipotence is not at all common among mainstream Christian philosophy. He makes it out as if omnipotence is a kind ability to win fights. It's really weird, and I strongly doubt that other prominent Christian philosophers would find his perspective compelling.

For convenience, I've transcribed the main points of contention I have and then added a few points of discussion. Please enjoy!

IP: First, let's define omnipotence. Omnipotence simply means "all powerful." If a being is all-powerful, they would have power over everything else in existence.

While it is true that the Latin root for omnipotence does translate into "all power," that little statement is rife with ambiguity. There is no singularly "correct" definition for that term, and I have personally encountered at least a half-dozen variations in my own research on the subject. So for IP to just casually assert his own definition as the one and only definition worth considering is simply disingenuous. All you have to do is type "What is omnipotence?" into Google, and you'll find all sorts of competing definitions from authentic Christian sources. For example, the website AllAboutGod.com says this:

"He [God] has the ability and power to anything (omni=all; potent=powerful). This power is exercised effortlessly... God is all-powerful and able to do whatever he wills. Since his will is limited by his nature, God can do everything that is in harmony with his perfections."

Another website, FreeThinkingMinistries.com, says that

"God can do all things that are logically possible."

The Catholic encyclopedia likewise says

"Omnipotence is the power of God to effect whatever is not intrinsically impossible."

So in less than five minutes, I was able to find three online Christian authories who offer totally unique definitions from what IP has just given. That's not a very compelling start, dude.

Now in all fairness, there is nothing wrong with offering a definition of one's own. The problem with IP is that he gives zero mention of the existence of alternative schools of thought within mainstream Christianity. Consequently, he is basically tossing all of his fellow Christians under the bus and then pretending to speak on their collective behalf after the fact. That's just pretentious, to say the least.

IP: No other being, process, object, or combination of anything in existence could ever overpower an omnipotent being. Omnipotence simply means one is all powerful. It could never be defeated by anything else in existence. In other words, everything else in existence combined would still be less powerful than an omnipotent being.

The next thing that bothers me is the oddly combative nature of IP's new definition. For all practical purposes, he is essentially claiming that an omnipotent being is defined by its capacity to beat everything else in a fight. In his own words, you could take everything in the universe and pit it against an omnipotent being. By definition, the omnipotent being will emerge victorious and everything else will be "defeated." That's his entire definition in a nutshell. 

Another odd thing about this definition is that it says nothing about typical powers one might associate with a trait like omnipotence. For example, does the omnipotent being have the power to create a universe? Or to read minds? We cannot say. IP frames his entire definition in terms of victory and defeat. In principle, he could be very liberal with this definition to include such ideas, but that would quickly run into wacky problems. For example, maybe we could imagine a "universe creation" contest and challenge two beings to create a universe in the least amount of time or effort. In that sense, the omnipotent being would, by definition, always be the one to emerge victorious. However, once you allow for that sort of unrestricted word play, then it does not take long before paradoxes spring up again. For instance, I could challenge the being to a dying contest, or maybe a truly-state-the-following-proposition contest. The omnipotence paradox would then immediately emerge. 

IP: If this is all omnipotence means, there is nothing logically contradictory going on. There is nothing logically incoherent about being all powerful. And thus, there is no omnipotence paradox.

I agree. There is nothing logically contradictory about this definition. It's just really bizarre, and I'm quite sure the majority of mainstream Christian philosophers would be highly confused by it as well.

IP: The problem occurs when someone defines omnipotence differently. Instead of it meaning all-powerful, they define it as the ability to do anything, which is an incoherent concept.

This is a classic fallacy that I encounter all the time when discussing the philosophy of religion with theists. There is a strong tendency for people to argue as if their definition is somehow objectively correct and that all other definitions are somehow mistaken. Although IP never comes out and says it, it is strongly implied by the way he argues his point. He also has this weirdly binary understanding of omnipotence, as evidenced by the fact that he is only exploring two distinct definitions. Again, there are at least a half-dozen of them floating around in the philosophical literature, many of which come from highly respected Christian authorities.

IP: It is, in fact, logically impossible to be able to do anything. One cannot make a being that is married and also a bachelor. One cannot be evil and simultaneously morally perfect. One cannot have the ability to create the logically impossible like a square circle or a married bachelor. These concepts are logically impossible and no being can bring them into existence.

I completely agree. Absolutism is not a coherent perspective on omnipotence, and many academic philosophers further support that view. Even William Lane Craig has argued many times against absolutism. IP is just ignoring two important facts in this argument.

(1) It is perfectly common for Christians to defend absolutism.

(2) There are plenty of other definitions for omnipotence besides absolutism and IP's all-power. I've even personally offered some of them myself.

IP: Luckily, this is not what omnipotence has to mean, as we explained in the beginning of this video. It just means being all powerful over everything else in existence. If we have two definitions of omnipotence, and theists are using the first and some atheists are using the second, to say an omnipotent being cannot exist, then we have a straw man argument.

This little jab at atheists is entirely uncalled for. It is perfectly common for Christians to defend absolutism, and I have personally encountered several dozen of them on my own video comments. One of the most famous defendants of absolutism, Rene Descartes, was also a very devout Christian. My own atheist videos have even argued against absolutism, and many of my fans seem to agree with the conclusions. The idea that this is some kind of "theists versus atheists" dispute is just inexcusable. Either IP is embarrassingly ignorant of the broader social context, or he is just willfully lying about it.

IP: Everyone should get to define what they mean; not have definitions imposed upon them. Thus, claiming it is logically impossible for an omnipotent being to exist because of the second definition, doesn't mean it is logically impossible for an omnipotent being to exist because of the first definition. It is the height of irrationality to try and force theists to say omnipotence has to be defined in an incoherent way.

While I agree in principle, this argument is kind of hypocritical. IP is arguing that everyone should get to define what they mean, which is fine. But IP is also ignoring the fact that many Christian authorities hold to entirely different views of omnipotence from himself. He is therefore complaining about his inability to define what he means to atheists while simultaneously denying his fellow Christians that same courtesy.

The other strange part of this argument is that IP completely ignores the plain interpretations of the Bible itself. For example:

Matthew 19:26: But Jesus looked at them and said to them, “With men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

Job 42:1-2: Then Job answered the LORD and said, "I know that You can do all things, And that no purpose of Yours can be thwarted.

So sure, if IP wants to adopt a whole new definition for omnipotence, then that's fine. He just has to specifically deny the Bible in order to do so. It's a textbook example of kettle logic.

IP: But some still try to say that the first definition is not true omnipotence because it means the being is limited in certain ways, and if a being is limited, then it cannot be omnipotent.

This is one of those fun little games that IP likes to play in his videos. He says things like "some still try to say...," without ever telling us who those supposed people are. I've seen him do many times. It's a hugely dishonest ploy because we have no idea how popular this argument is. Is this something you hear from famous philosophers like Daniel Dennet? Or is this something he read once on a Facebook post from Billy, the angry 12-year old in his parents' basement? It's a classic example of weasel wording.

IP is also framing this argument as if only atheists are the ones who ever argue this. While I suspect that many atheists have indeed argued this in the past, I also have an entire comment section on my omnipotence video with dozens of Christians arguing this exact same point. It's a pointless "us versus them" mentality based on nothing.

IP: Well the answer to this is to point out that unlimited is not synonymous with unlimited. Increasing power doesn't necessarily mean removing limits. You remove certain types of limits, like ones caused by weakness, but other types of limits can appear with increased power. For example, let's picture a being that does not become omnipotent, but simply becomes extremely powerful over time. As their power increases, they remove limits caused by weakness, but can be limited by their ability to form relationships with others. As you increase in power, it might be harder to relate to other people who feel weak around you, or threatened by you, and thus power might limit one in this area.

IP: One is also limited in the amount of fear they have as their power increases, and thus, they are limited in what they can be afraid of. These limits, and other similar examples, don't decrease power. Having more or less fear is independent from the question of how much power you could have. In fact, one could argue some limits are good to have and necessary to increase power. For example, it is a bad thing to be unlimited in the amount of diseases you could contract. How exactly would having the ability to contract a disease make you more powerful? Or to have unlimited problems, which would also be a bad thing and potentially decrease power. Being unlimited in abilities is clearly not the same as being omnipotent, as certain limits are good to have and necessary to being all powerful, and some limits do not affect power at all.

I don't necessarily disagree with the consistency of IPs viewpoint here. It's just hilarious to me that he thinks omnipotence is basically the power to demolish everything in the universe. For example, just read this:

IP: Some try to argue that if an omnipotent being was also morally perfect, that would create a logical contradiction. As if you are morally perfect, you cannot lie for immoral gains, and thus you are limited by something that could be helpful and give you more power. But lying or other immoral actions are just abilities that do not necessarily increase power. They can for some, but they would be neutral abilities for a being that already has power over everything in existence. So if a being is already omnipotent, meaning one has power over everything in existence, having the ability to lie would not really help him. Lying is something we occasionally use to get out of a problem or away from people who have power over us. If you never have to worry about this because of your omnipotent, the ability to lie would not increase your power, and being limited in this way does not necessarily decrease power.

See? When you have the ultimate power to smash things, then it doesn't matter if you can tell a lie or not. It's all perfectly self-consistent.

IP goes on for a little while longer, but doesn't say anything fundamentally new after this. Basically, he thinks that absolutism is bad because violations of logic are not coherent ideas. In principle, I completely agree with him on this point. It's just sad to watch IP frame this as a purely atheistic phenomenon when there are countless examples of Christians doing the exact same thing. I also find his new definition to be really bizarre. I think most people will agree that omnipotence should entail more than a mere ability to defeat the universe in single combat.

The Problem of Free Will (And How to Solve It)

Imagine yourself sitting in the jury box for a courtroom trial of the infamous Neckbeard the Pirate. Looking over the list of charges, you see what appears to be quite the nefarious career: Looting, pillaging, extortion, raping, kidnapping, murdering… the list goes on and on. Not only that, but the defendant doesn’t even deny his actions. He confesses outright to every last crime, plus a few extra that didn’t even make the list. It seems to be a textbook open-and-shut case, except for an unusual plea made by the defense.

“Please don’t send me to prison!” says Captain Neckbeard. “I had no choice. You see, years ago, the Canadian government installed a microchip in my brain that forced me to do their evil bidding. It wasn’t really me who committed those horrible crimes. It was the agency controlling me through the implant. I was just an unwilling puppet in the whole ordeal.”

“Golly,” you think. “That’s a pretty far-fetched claim. He can’t possibly expect us to believe this, can he?”

Sure enough, however, the story checks out. The defense submits a series of CT scans that clearly show the presence a device implanted in his prefrontal cortex. The very chip itself is then submitted as evidence, followed by a series of testimonies from neurologists, cognitive scientists, and electrical engineers all explaining exactly how it works. Representatives from the Canadian government even take the stand and admit openly to having abducted their own citizens and implanting them with mind-control devices. It was all just part of a top-secret spy project gone terribly awry.

Ask yourself. Given such evidence, how exactly would you place your verdict? Would you vote guilty and throw the defendant in prison for the rest of his life?  Or would you acquit the defendant of all charges?

If you’re anything like most people, the evidence in this scenario would probably convince you to acquit. After all, it wasn’t really the defendant who was doing all those horrible things. It was the operator of the mind-control chip. It therefore seems perfectly reasonable to conclude that the defendant was not acting in accordance with his own free will and thus does not bear any moral responsibility for his crimes.

Now to be fair, a full-on mind control chip is a pretty fantastic idea, but there really are actual courtroom cases that closely resemble this exact scenario. At least one classic example was the case of a Virginia man who developed severe pedophilic tendencies after sprouting a tumor in his right orbitofrontal cortex [1,2]. Rather than directly force his actions, however, the tumor released a frenzy of antisocial desires while simultaneously blocking the part of his brain responsible for impulse control. Fortunately, once the tumor was surgically removed, the defendant was eventually restored to normal social behavior. So ask yourself now: How would you cast your vote if you were on his jury? Would you vote to acquit? Or would you vote to convict?

Again, if you’re anything like most people, you would probably vote to acquit, and that's exactly what happened in this particular case. But how far can this kind of thinking reasonably extend? For example, what if for every act of piracy, a full one-million dollars was donated to the Red Cross and then used to save 100 lives? Thus, being the perfectly moral agent that he is, Captain Neckbeard had no choice but to engage in a few acts of lesser evil for the sake of a much greater good. Or better yet, what if Captain Neckbeard just really enjoys being a pirate so much, that absolutely nothing else in his life could possibly bring him happiness? Or what if Neckbeard just got into piracy one day because he felt bored on a Sunday afternoon? At what point do we transition from complete, merciful forgiveness to the usual imposition of criminal justice?

These simple thought experiments represent the foundation for an age-old principle known as free will. It’s a classic problem that philosophers have passionately discussed for thousands of years, and it still continues to spark debate to this very day. Yet despite the gallons of ink that have been spilled over this topic, it’s surprisingly rare to find anyone with a comprehensive solution that actually works. That’s a real shame, too, because it’s not exactly difficult to provide functional answers to these kinds of questions. All it takes is a little willingness to explore the problem honestly, plus the intellectual discipline to apply rigorous standards of logical consistency. That’s why I personally find the issue so fascinating, and why I think you’ll all enjoy following me along as we finally settle the problems of free will once and for all.

The Twins Problem

Now before we begin, it’s important to understand that the fundamental problem with an idea like free will has very little to do with whether or not it really exists. Rather, the far more compelling problem is how best to define that term in the first place. It’s as if we all have this deep, intuitive sense over what free will ought to mean, but just can’t seem to pin it down into any hard, quantifiable terms. It’s a giant gap that undermines nearly every dedicated treatment on the subject. After all, what’s the point of engaging in a public debate when no one has yet to even agree on what the debate is supposed to be about? So before we even touch on the practical problems of free will, it really helps to step back and ask ourselves what exactly those two little words really mean.

To help answer that question, simply imagine yourself sitting in a room behind a table. Across from you are what appear to be two identical twins. They look the same, they act the same, and in all physical respects, they seem to be as alike as two people can possibly be. There is, however, one key difference that sets them apart. One of these entities has free will, and the other does not. Your job is to figure out which one is which, and do so with repeatable, reliable, consistency.

Ask yourself: How exactly would you go about telling the difference? What observations do you make? What experiments do you perform? What empirically verifiable distinction must we look for in order to differentiate between a being that has free will and a being that does not?

Bear in mind now that whatever answer you give to this question is, effectively, your definition for free will. It’s a textbook application of a well-known principle called verificationism, and it represents the ultimate foundation on which all human language operates. It’s an amazing philosophical tool that works wonders at cutting through the pseudointellectual background noise and getting right to the heart of such difficult ideas.

To illustrate, suppose someone tries to tell you that free will is an “immaterial construct” and thus cannot be detected or measured using the empirical methods of science. Okay, that’s fine if you want to think that, but it immediately runs into a pretty glaring problem. When Captain Neckbeard says, “I was not acting out of my own free will,” and the prosecution says, “Yes, you totally were,” pray tell, how exactly are we supposed to figure out who’s right? Do we just randomly guess? Should we assume one side is always telling the truth, no matter what? Because the moment we reject the application of any objectively verifiable criteria, then the only way to settle such disputes it by pure, unfettered say-so. Microchip in your brain? Sorry, that’s an empirically verifiable distinction. How about a brain tumor? Nope. Still verifiable and thus material---nothing whatsoever to do with free will!

Clearly, any attempt to side-step verificationism is little more than a philosophical dead end. Yet despite this obvious limitation, it can still be like pulling teeth just to get a clear definition out of people. It's infuriating, too, because it means that any attempt to pin free will down with a hard definition will inevitably be met with angry accusations of “straw man” from every corner of the blog-o-sphere. Nevertheless, we have to start somewhere, and there are at least some popular definitions that do provide a workable framework for verification and analysis.

One statement in particular that tends to occur over and over again is the famous expression that free will inherently represents “a capacity to have done otherwise.” What exactly that means is open to some interpretation, but it nearly always involves an explicit rejection of predetermination. It’s a classic philosophical viewpoint known as libertarian free will, or metaphysical libertarianism, and it holds that free agents are not necessarily bound by the initial conditions of their circumstances when making decisions.

To demonstrate how this works from a verificationist perspective, simply imagine our twins being given a choice between chocolate and vanilla milkshakes. After long and careful deliberation, they both eventually conclude that chocolate is the preferred flavor and so naturally pick that milkshake accordingly. But suppose for a moment that there existed a magic rewind button capable of reversing time itself. Every last subatomic particle in the universe, including those making up our very own brains, will be reset back to exactly where they were at some point in the past. If we were to then press this button and replicate our experiment between chocolate and vanilla, what outcomes should we expect to observe? According to most schools of thought, the twin without free will should consistently pick the chocolate milkshake every time. However, for the twin that does possess free will, there is the distinct possibility that, on occasion, he just might decide to take the vanilla.

That description may sound a little goofy, but it really is the basic train of thought provided by the overwhelming majority of thinkers on this subject. They make no effort whatsoever to tell you what free will actually is, but only to tell you what free will isn’t---namely, that free will is not a thing that can logically coexist with a deterministic universe. The two ideas are thus incompatible.

Clearly, there are some pretty serious problems with this viewpoint that need to be addressed. For starters, there are no magic rewind buttons with which to reset the entire universe. Consequently, the distinction between a being with free will and a being without is completely immeasurable. Again, when Captain Neckbeard claims that he was not acting in accordance with his own free will, how exactly are we supposed to verify such a claim? Do we really need an honest-to-goodness time machine with which to observe his actions? And exactly how many times must we watch him repeat his crimes before we are convinced that his actions were predetermined?

Obviously, that’s not ever going to be an option, nor does it even make sense to try. The past is the past, and no being can ever possibly “do otherwise” on anything that has already been done. Free will in this specific sense is therefore completely dead in the water before the boat has even sailed. Nevertheless, we cannot simply acquit every criminal in existence because of some nuanced philosophical quirk, can we? Just because the popular conception of free will tends to make no sense, does that automatically mean everything about it is completely worthless and inapplicable?

Of course not! For instance, rather than reset time itself, what if we merely replicate the initial conditions of some past experiment and then observe a replication of outcomes in the future? This turns out to be a much more workable idea because it represents something we can actually utilize in the real world. It also just so happens to be the textbook definition of determinism according to every modern theory of probability [3]. The implication is that I don’t have to necessarily rewind the entire universe per se, but I can, in principle, replicate all of the relevant conditions that gave rise to a particular event. If our universe is indeed deterministic, then for any physical experiment you may ever hope to contrive, I can predict and replicate the outcome of that experiment with perfect consistency. It also means that, for all practical purposes, your future might as well be set in stone because every outcome that occurs will always be causally predetermined by the conditions that came before it.

So given this slightly tweaked definition, is it safe to conclude that people have free will or what? In short: probably not. After all, if our decisions are merely the product of the neural connections within our brains, then in principle I could reset those conditions and watch you repeat the exact same decision under a given scenario. Or, equivalently, if I knew the exact arrangement of every last neural connection in your brain, then I could, in principle, predict exactly how you will behave when presented with a choice.

One of the most dramatic demonstrations of this principle was recently published by neuroscientists at the Max Plank Institute in Germany [4]. Using functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI), human subjects had their brains scanned while randomly pushing buttons with either their left or right index fingers. Upon post-analysis of the data, it was found that decisions could actually be predicted, with greater than 50% accuracy, a full 10 seconds in advance of the subjects’ own awareness. The uncomfortable implication is that, given enough computational power and scan resolution, even human behavior itself could be predicted with the exact same accuracy as any other natural phenomenon.

For many, this tends to have pretty devastating implications for the idea of free will and particularly for our entire concept of criminal justice. After all, if every decision we make is merely the result of physical interactions between atomic states in our brains, then how exactly is that any different from the microchip scenario? Captain Neckbeard didn’t “choose” to commit his crimes any more than a laptop “chooses” to follow its programming. And since we don’t go around tossing laptops into prison for misbehaving, then what’s the point of doing the same thing to criminals? If, however, we could hypothetically reset the initial conditions and observe Neckbeard “doing otherwise,” then most people would generally conclude that he ought to be held morally responsible for making the wrong decisions.

Fortunately for the libertarians, there does seem to be at least one ray of hope lurking deep within the bowels of modern physics. To see how it works, simply imagine what would happen if a single neutron were freely tossed out into empty space. At first, all we would observe is a lone subatomic particle floating along at a constant velocity. If, however, we waited around long enough, then we would eventually observe a phenomenon called free neutron decay, wherein the neutron spontaneously bursts into a proton, an electron, and a neutrino. If we then repeat this experiment many times over, we will eventually observe that exactly half of the decays seem to occur in about 10.3 minutes or less, while the other half take longer.

None of this is particularly compelling so far, except for one major detail. No matter how perfectly we replicate the initial conditions, we will never be able to consistently replicate the exact moment of individual neutron decay. Try as we might, it will always be a matter of pure, unfettered probability. Nothing specifically causes this event to occur, and it is a fundamental property of nature herself that subatomic particles should behave this way. It’s a famous principle called the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics, and it is a very well-established interpretation among physicists today. The implication is that if our brains are fundamentally made of atoms, and atomic behavior is not predetermined, then it stands to reason that human behavior itself should likewise contain some trace elements of indeterminism for free will to hide in.

This may sound a little crazy at first, but it really is a popular argument getting promoted by scientists and philosophers today [5, 6]. It’s weird, too, because the Copenhagen interpretation isn’t exactly well-liked among modern physicists. While it may be common practice to teach this interpretation in most schools, there is also an open admission among everyone involved that it's both a logical and philosophical mess. There are plenty of alternative interpretations that arguably do better [7,8], and it's only a matter of time before someone finally demonstrates a clear, empirical distinction. If anything, we really just begrudgingly accept Copenhagen out of respect for tradition rather than any strict adherence to philosophical parsimony.

Ignoring that, however, the real problem with this view is that it seems to grant free will to completely pre-programmed machines. To see how, imagine a simple robot that picks out milkshakes in accordance with the decay of free neutrons. If the neutron decays in 10 minutes or less, then pick the chocolate milkshake. If it takes longer, then pick the vanilla. For all practical purposes, this robot will appear to behave exactly as the supposedly “free” twin, in that no replication of initial conditions will ever result in a perfect replication of outcomes. Yet we can also clearly see that there is nothing “free” about this configuration because the robot is still just following its programming. And since your own brain states are fundamentally governed by similar atomic events, then even your own mind is arguably just a glorified realization of exactly such a machine.

If that wasn't convincing enough, however, then just think of it like this: Imagine being offered a choice between your favorite flavor of milkshake and a giant pile of dog feces. In principle, you’d think that one should always want to go for the milkshake every time because milkshakes are delicious and satisfying while dog feces are grotesque and poisonous. Yet if libertarian free will really were a thing, then we necessarily must expect that, on at least some rare occasions, you would arbitrarily feel yourself overcome with the inexplicable urge to literally eat shit. Then when asked why you on Earth you did that, the only explanation you could possibly give is that some mysterious compulsion overpowered your sensibility and made you to do anyway it against all reason. That’s hardly the action of a “free” agent, don’t you think? And in what logical sense do we accomplish anything by punishing someone for that kind of behavior?

So no matter how we look at it, the idea of libertarian free will simply doesn’t work. By definition, libertarianism cannot coexist with determinism, and by definition, the opposite of determinism is pure, freaking randomness. This whole stupid debate between determinism and free will is nothing but a gigantic red herring. Neither situation provides us with a satisfying description for how a morally responsible agent ought to be behave, and neither situation provides a compelling framework for the administration of criminal justice. It should therefore come as no surprise that libertarian free will is probably one of the most widely rejected ideas in the history of academic philosophy [9]. Yet for some strange reason, the overwhelming majority of debate on this subject is still fixated on a distinction that doesn’t matter either way. It’s as if everyone is so hell-bent on answering the question of determinism that they never stop to wonder what makes the alternative scenario any better.

Remember now that all we’re really trying to do here is define a word. Libertarianism is just one possible definition for free will, and there are still plenty of untapped definitions we have yet explore. But it’s important to always keep in mind that there is no such thing as an objectively “correct” definition. There are only good definitions and bad definitions. Good definitions are clear, consistent, concise, and generally capture the intuitive understanding we typically associate with such terms. Bad definitions are either unclear, unverifiable, convoluted, or logically absurd in their implications. Metaphysical libertarianism is nothing more than a "bad" definition because it fails to cohere into anything meaningful or practical. If that means free will is absolutely dead in your eyes from today until eternity, then fine. We'll all say it together right now: Free will does not exist! Does that make you happy? But guess what? We still have to deal with the fact that crime exists in this world, and we can't expect to manage it properly without a viable concept of moral accountability.

To that end, philosophers have developed all kinds of alternatives to libertarianism collectively known as compatibilism---the idea that, whatever we decide free will happens to be, it is still logically “compatible” with a deterministic and/or random universe.  It’s a huge variety of competing theories unto itself, and we could easily spend hours picking apart the more noteworthy contenders. But rather than get bogged down in an endless spiral of even more bad definitions, let’s just step back for a moment and ask ourselves why on Earth we care so much about free will in the first place. That is to say, when we sentence people like Captain Neckbeard to a life in prison, what exactly are we trying to accomplish? What’s the goal, here? What consequences are we trying to actualize through the act of punishment that cannot be achieved by simply letting him go?

You would be amazed at how hard it is to find any notable philosophers in history that come close to addressing these kinds of questions. It’s as if we’re all are so hyper-focused on the minute details of free will itself, that hardly anyone ever stops to ask themselves what the point of all this is supposed to be. It’s amazing, too, because it's not like this is some kind of deep, philosophical mystery for the ages. According to every official legal doctrine in the entire Western World, there are exactly five reasons for the punishment of criminal behavior.

Starting with Number 1, we have the doctrine of restitution---the idea that punishment exists to fix, or set right, any harm that was caused by a particular act. For example, when you’re backing out of your driveway and you happen to run over your neighbor’s mailbox, then at least one form of punishment would be to simply compensate them for any damages and inconvenience suffered.

At Number 2, we have the doctrine of deterrence---the tendency for people to refrain from certain behaviors if they believe that doing so will prevent any undesirable consequences. For example, everyone knows that speeding is generally dangerous, yet the temptation to do so can also be very intense. Thus, to reduce the likelihood of everyone driving too fast for their own good, we set limits on our top vehicle speeds and then impose a modest fine for anyone caught breaking the rules.

Moving on to Number 3, we have the doctrine of rehabilitation---the tendency for individuals to modify future behavior after personally suffering the effects of a punishment. For example, maybe you didn’t believe that a certain stretch of highway was really being patrolled, and so you figured you could get away with speeding. If, however, you are caught and fined, then the credibility of the punishment gets reestablished, and you become much more likely to follow the rules in the future.

Proceeding to Number 4, we are given the doctrine of incapacitation---the need to deny certain individuals the means and opportunity of committing certain crimes altogether. For example, imagine your eyesight is going bad and you just can’t help but drive like a maniac every time you hit the road. Since no amount of fines are ever going to prevent you violating the rules, it eventually becomes prudent to simply take away your license and completely revoke all driving privileges.

Finally, at Number 5, we have the doctrine of retribution---the visceral satisfaction granted to society by watching bad people suffer. When you go out and break the speed limit, then there must be something inherently evil about you that just deserves to be punished. We therefore impose speeding tickets on you for the pure sake of hurting you.

You might have noticed that the doctrine of retribution is conspicuously out of place on this list. While the other doctrines exist to serve clear, pragmatic goals, the last one is essentially just institutionalized revenge. Even the very word itself literally means "payback" in Latin! When you inflict harm onto society, then society tends to get very angry. And the only way to quell that anger is, apparently, to inflict some sort of proportionate harm back onto you. It should therefore come as no surprise, then, that retribution and libertarian free will nearly always go hand in hand. They treat good and evil as ethereal forces interwoven in the fabric of space and time, and that only the actions of metaphysically “free” agents are somehow capable of offsetting this delicate cosmic balance. That’s why retribution is incidentally the most controversial doctrine of criminal punishment by far. Philosophers and legal experts around the world have written heavily about the absurdity of this doctrine [10-12], and it is only by sheer, institutional inertia that it still remains an official part of our criminal justice system today.

Notice also that if we simply disregard retribution altogether, then the other four doctrines are all perfectly compatible with deterministic presuppositions. They embrace the idea that actions taken today will necessarily result in predictable human outcomes tomorrow. It's a perfectly pragmatic system with tangible social benefits, which means we're going to continue punishing people anyway whether or not libertarian free will is a real thing. So why not just bite the bullet already and use this as our foundation for defining free will, since apparently it's already the foundation for our entire system of criminal justice today. For example...

Free Will Finally Settled

Imagine our two identical twins again and offer them a choice between chocolate and vanilla milkshakes. All other things being equal, we should naturally expect both twins to pick the chocolate over the vanilla and do so continuously upon repeated iterations of this experiment. But now imagine what would happen if we tried to convince the twins to choose vanilla. For example, we could try bribing them, begging, pleading, threatening; anything we like. Just make it known that actions taken in the present will have positive or negative consequences in the future. For the twin that does not possess free will, no amount of reward or punishment will ever alter his behavior. You could offer him a million dollars or you could physically beat him senseless, but he will always go for the chocolate, no matter what. For the twin that does possess free will, there will exist some distinct threshold of reward and/or punishment that will alter his behavior---he can be convinced to choose the vanilla rather than the chocolate.

Now in all fairness, we don’t have to explicitly define free will in exactly these terms, and there are probably dozens of other formulations that could do it more rigorously. That’s not the point. The point is that free will is already so heavily intertwined with the ideas of punishment and moral culpability, that we might as well use those as the foundation for a functional definition. There's no need to invoke any magic rewind buttons for the entire stinking universe when we can easily achieve a perfectly satisfying result by just observing the natural consequences of reward and punishment.

For instance, take the classic courtroom scenario of Captain Neckbeard the Pirate. Should we convict, or should we acquit? To answer that, we simply ask ourselves whether or not the institution of punishment will deter future misbehavior under similar circumstances. That is to say, if I punish Captain Neckbeard for his crimes, can I expect that punishment to deter both himself, and other agents, from engaging in piracy in the future?

For the special case of mind-control devices, the answer is obviously no. No amount of reward or punishment will ever deter anyone from committing a crime when there’s a full-on microchip in their brain that's forcing them to do it anyway. If, however, Captain Neckbeard simply got into piracy one day because he was bored, then there is every reason in the world to suspect that the institution of severe punishments will greatly deter other bored individuals from following a similar path. We would therefore say that brain chips most definitely rob people of their free will, while casual boredom on a Sunday afternoon does not. It's a perfectly clear distinction that's both meaningful and practical, and it doesn't require the invocation of any obtuse metaphysical nonsense.

Notice that we can immediately answer all kinds of wacky philosophical questions through the adoption of this kind of framework. For instance, have you ever wondered why we don't hold our animals to the same degree of moral accountability as humans? Like, if my cat goes potty in the wrong place, how come we don’t punish him like we would for a person who commits the same crime? Under compatibilism, the answer is quite simple. While I might be able can train my cat to use the litter box through careful application of reward and punishment, I cannot deter a cat by making an example out of his peers. That’s because a key ingredient for free will is a general capacity for complex rational thought within a broader social context. It makes no sense to deter misbehavior against those who are mentally incapable of projecting the example of others onto themselves. It is therefore perfectly consistent to speak of our animals as possessing perhaps some semblance of free will to varying degrees, but not nearly to the same magnitude as us humans.

What about robots? What would it take to finally declare that some artificially-constructed robot has officially “passed the singularity” and developed a free will of its own? Again, it’s not a hard question to answer, so long as we consistently apply the definition. At what point will the institution of reward and punishment either deter or encourage certain behaviors?

To illustrate, imagine a possible world wherein every home comes preinstalled with its own robot butler. Now imagine that, for whatever reason, our butlers tend to act out in strange ways. For instance, maybe they smash up our dishes and then rearrange our furniture while we sleep. Under most circumstances, we would simply correct the malfunction by tracking down the faulty lines of code and then updating them accordingly. In the future, however, there might not be any code to fix. Most machine learning algorithms today are not based pure, iterative logic, but on neural networks derived from fitness functions acting on the raw experience of the environment itself. Thus, if we ever want to correct our robots’ misbehaviors, we may actually have to train them through the institution of reward and punishment. And if, by some happenstance, our robots reach a point wherein they can learn from the experiences of each other, then we wouldn’t have to train them all individually to achieve the desired result. Instead, we could single out an individual robot and then make a very public spectacle out its punishment. If doing so results in a marked deterrence of future misbehaviors, then we will have officially satisfied the definition of free will. And why not? For all practical purposes, that’s basically how we govern human social behaviors already, so it makes perfect sense to describe a hypothetical robot population in exactly the same terms.

But hey. Maybe that’s not good enough for you. Maybe you think it’s either libertarian free will, or nothing at all. That’s fine if you want to think that, but it’s not going to change our presently accepted doctrines of criminal justice. Whether the universe is deterministic or not, we are still going to use reward and punishment as our philosophical basis for moral culpability. And since the notion of free will is already inextricably linked to that principle, then we might as well just call it by the same, established name. Thus, when libertarians speak of “a capacity to do have done otherwise,” they literally have it backwards. It’s not about changing events that already took place in the past, but about steering events that might take place in the future. We don't have to replicate initial conditions down to the very last atom when we can easily achieve everything we want by merely altering the initial conditions of similar situations that have yet to pass.

So the next time you find yourself in a courtroom wondering whether or not to throw someone in jail, there now exists at least one philosophical foundation on which to guide that decision. It doesn’t even have to be perfect, either, but just "good enough" so as to provide functional justification to the pragmatic satisfaction of society. I freely admit that there are probably dozens of gaps in my presently-described compatibilism, and everyone is more than welcome to chip in and help refine it over time. But you can’t replace something that works with nothing that doesn’t. Metaphysical libertarianism cannot help you in this situation or any other. Compatibilism does.

Thank you for listening.

Notes & References

1. Burns, J. M. and Swerdlow, R. H., "Right orbitofrontal tumor with pedophilia symptom and constructional apraxia sign," Archives of Neurology, Vol. 60, pp. 437-440 (2003) [link]
2. Darby, R. R, Horn, A., Cushman, F., and Fox. M. D., "Lesion network localization of criminal behavior, PNAS, Vol. 115, No. 3 (2017) [link]
3. See, for example, [link]
4. Soon, C. S., Brass, M., Heinze, H., and Haynes, J., "Unconscious determinants of free decisions in the human brain," Nature Neuroscience, Vol 11, No 5 (2008) [link].
5. Hartsfield, T. "Quantum mechanics supports free will," Real Clear Science (2013) [link]
6. [link] 
7. [link]
8. [link]
9. Bourget, D. and Chalmers, D. J., "What do philosophers believe?" Philosophical Studies, Vol. 170, No. 3 (2014) [link]---Less than 14% of philosophers accept or lean towards libertarianism.
10. Barnett, R. E, "Restitution: A new paradigm of criminal justice," Ethics, Vol 87, No 4 (1977)