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If
you spend enough time thinking about instinct, and culture, and
genetics, and language, and love, you begin to get pretty skeptical
about 'free will'. As the diagram above shows, we are the
product of:
- our culture (the language which determines how the
neurons in our
brains form, peer pressure, others' ideas, and the educational,
economic, political and social systems in which we live),
- our genes (instincts, hormones, metabolism, emotions,
physical
structures and appearance -- and don't tell me that your appearance
doesn't shape who you are), and
- our senses, experiences and memories.
Nature, nurture, and what we've been through make
us what
we are. The following poem by Montrealer Kezia Speirs, which I read
today on the Toronto subway's 'poetry on the way' poster, makes this
point more lyrically:
We love as though
we know not
better. A trick,
biology, it claims
more worthy
selves and gentler aims
and still this
doom is ours. We sought
late wanderings
and soft light, dim,
and then the
first embrace, the touch
as if those hands
were all the world -- for such
their beauty
seemed; he carried gods with him.
And these loves,
so celebrated, sung
so painted,
danced, idolatrized, these scenes
are but the
tantrum of our genes,
which we their
slaves embellish -- strung
like puppets,
till they break their strings
and all that's
left are our imaginings.
If our actions are indeed "the
tantrum of our genes", then where, in the 'product' that is each one of
us, is us? If we are, as I would posit, simply our
knowledge, our beliefs and our imaginings, figments
of reality,
and if these three fragile, fleeting figments are
determined by our
genes, our culture, and our senses, experiences and memories, and if in
turn these figments determine what we do, and don't do, during our
too-long, too-short 'lives', what control do 'we' have over any of it?
And if we are fortunate enough to have the capacity to think,
say and do what
'we' want, regardless of what 'everybody else' thinks, why do we value
the 'freedom' to do so, so highly, when we are in part a product of the
culture that is 'everybody else'?
So if, say, our culture tells us
that, for some specified
reason, we have to do something (e.g. work hard for a living at a
job we don't like) or tells us that we cannot do something (e.g. travel
to Cuba), why do we rebel at this? And then do (or not do) what we're told?
Or if, say, we are seduced
by someone to whom we are
intuitively and/or hormonally drawn, and our culture tells us
that it
is inappropriate to act on that impulse (e.g. because we, or they, are already
committed to someone else), by what logic can we say that our 'ability'
to resist the temptation is an act of 'free will' or morality, rather
than merely a resolution of the forces that control us, make us who we
are, by sheer strength of that superior force, and not in 'our' control
whatsoever? And
if 'we' want to save the world, is it a matter of defying the culture
that normally tells us what to do, and trusting instead the other two
forces: (a) our instincts & emotions, and (b) our senses,
experiences and memories, both of which tell us, increasingly, that our
culture is killing us? When our culture makes us so much who we are,
can we even do that? Are we the gatekeepers, the honest brokers between
the three forces in the diagram above, who decide which one(s) make
'more sense', and get paralyzed into inaction when they are in
unresolvable conflict? Or are we merely their instrument, blown like
leaves in the wind by all three forces in their combined vector of
velocity? For once, I'm not going to proffer any answers to
these (admitted loaded) questions. They aren't rhetorical. They may be
recursive. They may be unanswerable. Perhaps how we answer them tells
us who we really are. And who we thought we were, but are not.
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