Intelligent thought and free will are impossible, and the future is pre-determined

That’s a nice, dramatic sounding first sentence, isn’t it? Fires up the imagination — if you had any imagination, that is, because if you don’t have intelligent thought and free will you obviously can’t have imagination — and gets people interested in the sheer hopelessness of a pre-determined universe, where all our actions for eternity are already set out and unchangeable.

It is also, as LabRat and I shall attempt to prove, completely wrong. For my part, I’ll be tackling this from the point of view of a physics geek with a working knowledge of biology, in an attempt to explain the mechanism. LabRat shall be playing the part of the biologist who knows a bit about physics, and will try and explain why that mechanism is exploited. Everyone take your places, the curtain goes up in five.

It’s a very simple premise. Start with the basic assumption; the human body is made up solely of known elements. There is no “soul”, there is no external consciousness. We’ll ignore the metaphysical aspects of this for now, as they are largely irrelevant to the point at hand, mostly because the existence of a subtle, metaphysical consciousness would invalidate the entire question, let alone this argument.

Second assumption. Physics and chemistry, barring certain quantum events (which I’ll be coming back to later), can accurately predict the interaction of these elements and molecules thereof, provided you have a sufficiently clear mathematical formula and enough processing power. The processing requirements to predict and/or simulate an entire human body plus its environment are enormous, but conceivable.

Conclusion: if the human brain and body are made up solely of elements that interact in physically and chemically predictable ways, and “mind” is solely a product of those chemical interactions within the brain, then all thoughts and actions are predictable for an appreciable fraction of the future, being simple cause-and-effect of atomic and molecular interactions.

Seems logical enough, doesn’t it? There’s a clear chain of causality here that doesn’t seem to have any weak links; physics is predictable, our body is made of substances subject to physics, and so our body is predictable. But let’s look at it in more detail, and let’s start by asking the question that I know some of you are cringing in anticipation of: if all reality is pre-determined, how and why are you reading this?

Now, my immediate response to that question resorts to the ever-popular multiverse theory, or one of its many derivatives. For those of you who weren’t raised on Star Trek, the words “parallel universe” should call to mind a few images, most of them probably incorrect. While the entire idea is complex and difficult for me to understand let alone explain fully, the basics are relatively simple, and based nearly entirely on the simple concept of infinity*.

Again, start with a simple assumption: there is more than one universe. There are, in fact, an infinite number of universes. For simplicity’s sake, assume that all the universes that exist share the exact same physical laws as ours. Now, infinity — in all its endless, everything-that-is glory — when applied to the idea of multiple universes has an interesting emergent property; if it’s at all possible to exist under our physical laws, then somewhere along that infinite line of worlds, it does exist. Given different starting conditions — and possibly those random quantum events I mentioned earlier — then we get the existence of our universe, a universe where everyone is evil and wears a beard, and even a universe where a bizarre and unlikely sequence of events has resulted in the entire Milky Way galaxy being turned into tapioca.

While the actual existence of a multiverse is purely theoretical at this point, it’s still a conceivable way to explain why “mind” exists, so we must address it. I’ll try to keep it simple so that my brain doesn’t overheat and explode before the end of the post.

Now, we’ve assumed a multiverse, and we’ve assumed it’s infinite. We know that if it’s possible to exist, it must exist. A logical conclusion of this is that it is logically possible for a universe to exist where the starting conditions of the universe have played out to the point where a random chemical flirtation is creating, for a brief second, an illusion of mind; the completely erroneous idea that the mind is thinking, and having ideas, purely of its own accord, when in actuality it’s just the laws of the universe enforcing themselves.

There are two problems with this, but I’ll address the more direct one, and leave the other problem as an exercise to the reader. Granted, there is a conceivable universe in which this has occurred. It doesn’t break any physical laws, though it may bend them, so it must exist, and it must exist an infinite number of times. We shall call these universes the I Can’t Believe It’s Not Sentience worlds; it looks like it, it feels like it, it tastes like it, but it’s just predetermined physics.

However, it is also conceivable that there is a universe in which this does not occur, and in which mind exists as an independent thing, with free will, and choice. The exact mechanism I will explain further down (for now, you’ll just have to go with me on trust that it’s possible), but granting that it’s possible grants that there must exist an infinite number of universes in which it is true. Infinite choice to offset infinite predetermination. I like that somehow.

So which type of universe are we in? I haven’t a clue. It’s quite conceivable we’re in the first type of universe, and the random chances of reality have conspired to ensure that we follow a predetermined path, whatever the chances to the contrary are. However, as a nice side effect, even if we are in that type of universe then there must exist a universe that is an exact duplicate of this one, in every detail, except for one thing; they have free will. They choose.

So where does that leave the multiverse argument? Nicely corralled off to the side. Either we do exist in a universe where our idea of “mind” is completely driven by physics and predetermined behaviour, or we don’t. Either way, we’d be unable to tell the difference, so we might as well proceed on the assumption that we’re in the latter sort of universe; even if we’re not, there’s a copy of us somewhere that is, and they’ll probably like to read this.

Now, I know I said this was going to be from a physics geek point of view, and so far it has been, but now that we’ve put aside the higher physics of the multiverse we’re going to reduce our scale a bit and get down into the world of atoms and molecules. And I’m sorry to say this to any physicists out there, but we’re rapidly approaching the part where Physics and Biology stand on opposite sides of the room and hurl objects at each other in fury.

Now, I think most people who’ve made it this far would agree that, physically and chemically speaking, the human body and brain are incredibly complex objects; basic elements forming the groups of molecules we’ve deigned to call proteins, which link up with each other in complex and strangely coherent forms, all of which dance in a microscopic world of beauty. A biologist would say it’s a testament to life, and its ability to overcome all the odds set against it** by an uncaring world of physics. A physicist would say it’s a testament to the sublime beauty of physics that it can create substances that interact in such unique and complex ways without ever breaking its own rules. If only the two could meet somewhere in the middle, they’d probably be much closer to the truth than they’d realise.

I’d like you to take a look at that last paragraph again, specifically the bit near the top about coherent and complex structures. This is important, not just from the point of view that they keep us from turning into a puddle of chemicals on the floor, but also because — and I’m sorry for the sudden 180 back into high-level physics — of the ever-present concept of entropy. Most of you should know this from high school, but just a quick refresher if you skipped your physics classes to go to the mall; entropy is the tendency of all closed systems to move from states of order to states of chaos***. Entropy is a basic fact of all known closed systems in the real world; it is unavoidable.

Given that entropy exists, you expect certain behaviours. Heat will spread to be as well distributed as possible. Gasses will fill a container with even distribution. A dropped egg will not re-combine into a whole one. After all, an egg is a complex structure with a great deal of order and a mess on the floor is– but hold on a second. A complex structure with order? Where did that come from? For that matter, where did life come from? After all, life is practically teeming with structure and order, from the cell to the civilisation, so you wouldn’t expect it to form in the first place if entropy is true.

And now we’re getting close to the heart of the matter. Entropy says that life, if it somehow manages to defy the odds and exist at all, should be of the most basic form conceivable. That first cell of life in the primordial soup of the Earth should be pretty much it, replicating endlessly into eternity until entropy catches up to it and the ordered cell dissolves. Strangely enough, Earth seems to be absolutely teeming with life of all types.

So how do we connect the two points? How do we go from entropy to complexity, from base chemical reactions to biology? What magic exists that allows life — and by extension, mind — to exist? The answer, in its own way, explains nearly every aspect of biological systems that causes physicists to swear they’ll believe in God if he can just explain why biology is wrong, and it will also tell us, quite directly, how you think, and why you can choose.

It’s called “feedback.” And it may be one of the most powerful forces currently at work on Earth.

Feedback, as you know, is what makes your ears start bleeding when the sound guy screws up at a concert. It’s also used to describe a pattern or behaviour that is self-reinforcing. For example: an animal discovers a way it can steal food from a large, dangerous predator. This behaviour makes that animal well fed, causing it to be more likely to go back to steal more food. The benefit provided by the additional nutrients reinforces the behaviour up until the large predator catches our poor little fellow in the act, and becomes rather well fed itself. For the rest of the thieving little pests, this new behaviour causes them to suddenly become a lot more honest. We have just seen both positive feedback — the growing cycle of theft — and negative feedback — the predator punishing thieves — in action.

This all seems pretty simple, but to fully understand this, we’re going to have to go for a more complex example. To that end, we shall resort to a topic near and dear to me; the common geek. Or at least, the stereotypical image of such.

Let’s outline the starting position. To begin with, we have a relatively normal child. Has friends he likes to play with, has interests and hobbies, and basically fits into the group. In a vacuum, this situation could continue indefinitely. However, life has a way of throwing a spanner into the works. In this particular example something has happened to that child — they may have had an injury that keeps them out of social life for a while, they may have discovered a love of books that the people around them don’t share, or they may have had their position within the group usurped by another child. Whatever the instigating cause, there is now an aberration in the initial conditions; the child is no longer as invested in his social life as he was before.

Where am I going with this? Feedback, of course. After all, a natural impulse of anyone who finds they don’t quite fit into a certain group anymore is to withdraw from that group slightly. They speak up less, they don’t spend quite as much time in that group, and they start spending more time with other groups, or alone. Unfortunately, as we all know, children are capable of incredibly strong cliques; in this specific scenario, our little test subject finds it difficult to integrate with any other groups, and ends up going for the option of being alone, and pursuing his own interests more. And social skills, like any other skill, rust with disuse. Finding it more and more difficult to interact with other people at all, the child ends up straight on a path for basement dwelling geek. At least until he discovers mad science and world domination, anyway.

So now we’ve seen feedback in complex action. An initial difference in the starting conditions — be it injury, or interest, or outside force — creates a change in the situation, in this case the boy’s personality, which then self-amplifies itself. The feedback from this amplification continues until a vastly different path from the original prediction is taken.

So now that we understand feedback, and we’ve even applied it on the high level of social interactions. But how does this apply to mind, and the way it seems to defy reality? I’ll get to that in a second, and I’ll start by showing how feedback can work for individual cells — and, in fact, all aspects of life and biology — as well as entire people.

Take the first living cell. With time and components and just a bit of luck, the world has given us a little miracle; a self-enclosed area of biological components that creates an “inside” and an “outside”. There’s suddenly this little pocket of the components for life. And even more miraculous, this little pocket can do something none of the pockets that came before it can do; it can self-replicate. It can make more of itself.

Almost certainly not all of the cell could do that, of course. Maybe only the bits that make the cell wall could do that, or maybe the cell wall happened to enclose a protein that could self-replicate long enough that it built up a large collection of itself. When the cell collapsed, the new pieces flew out into the environment, and got snared up by other forming cells. Rinse, repeat.

So where does the feedback come in? Through the replication. In that harsh, dangerous environment, proteins would damage easily; the pre-genetic form of mutation would happen with extreme ease. Most of that damage would destroy the proteins permanently, which would then degrade back into base components. But maybe just a few of those, a few hundred, survived the change. Maybe the change even helped it. That single protein that can now, suddenly, replicate better than all its siblings now has an advantage, and quickly moves to dominate.

You may, at this moment, be going, “Hey, you’re talking about evolution!”. Well, yes, I am. Evolution is one of the most perfect examples of biological feedback systems that exists. The feedback of evolution benefits individuals, through their greater capacity to survive the situations they find, and over time will change the course of an entire species — and in our case, an entire planet.

Now, I know you’ve kept with me a long time — and that can’t have been easy — but there’s finally a light at the end of the tunnel. Up until now, I’ve been explaining all the concepts you need to address our original question, without directly touching on it. Now is the moment of truth. How does feedback give us “mind”?

Let’s do a thought experiment. Imagine two plain, empty rooms, each with a person in it. Both people are absolutely identical; every thought, every memory, every atom is perfectly matched to its partner. Now set these two people doing exercise. As you know, Bob, this is an amazingly complex procedure, biologically speaking. Molecular fuel must be burned, converted into useful forms, and transported by the blood, the brain must coordinate massive amounts of activity and respond to the results, the muscles and lungs and other internal organs must all move and work in intensive ways. On an atomic level, it’s a duet of chemical and physical complexity, each body moving in perfect unison.

Continue to run this experiment for an hour. During this hour, each body has gone through massive strain and changes. The number of chemical interactions that have occurred are astonishing on every conceivable level. Now our imaginary people can take a rest, so have them sit down. And just to be pedantic, let’s make sure that everything is still perfectly identical. But hold on a second; there’s something odd here. At the end of the experiment, the left arm of the person in the second room is approximately 0.0002 millimetres closer to their body than the left arm of the person in the first room. That can’t be right; in atomic terms, that’s an absolutely astronomical difference. Both our individuals were identical when they went in the room, and they did the exact same actions, so where did this change come from? And here comes feedback, roaring over the hill.

All through this post, I’ve tried to avoid talking about a specific concept in much detail, but now you need to understand it. Those of you familiar with the random effects of quantum physics, feel free to skip on past these two paragraphs. The rest of you… on extremely small scales — individual atoms, and smaller — Strange Things Happen. In the quantum world, atoms can disappear from one place and reappear in another, possibly even halfway across the universe. Momentum and speed aren’t fully known until the exact moment they change. Everything is just that little bit uncertain. All things have a certain probability of being in a certain place and doing a certain thing, but there’s always that room for the unexpected.

So why aren’t we flying apart under quantum stress? Because of that probability; while an individual atom here and there may move position now and then, the probability of every atom in your body doing so at the same time is so astronomical, you’d have to wait longer than the expected lifespan of the universe for it to happen. Changes in speed and momentum happen more often, but not always. Mostly, everything happens within a small range of possibilities. And it’s that small range that concerns us.

Take the common nerve cell, an essential part of the human brain. Nerve cells in the brain grow extensions towards each other, to make contact. However, nerve cells never touch. In every connection, there is a tiny space between the extension and the next cell over, called the synaptic gap; to jump this gap, the human brain uses a tiny electrical charge, so small we didn’t even know it existed for a long time. This charge is, of course, far above what could be reached by a freak quantum change. Or is it? What if the nerve has been charged up by nearby synaptic events so that it is just a bare fraction away from firing? Then that random quantum event suddenly becomes a lot more important. Add to this the fact that some recent evidence suggests nerve cells have an effect on their neighbours even without firing, just from possessing a charge, and suddenly these random quantum changes become a lot more important.

Why is it important? Because of the massively interconnected structure of the brain. We’ve got our one nerve cell, and let’s say it’s connected to another dozen cells. It hasn’t received enough stimulation to fire off a synaptic event, and neither have any of the cells around it. And then chance interferes; one of those random variations in electrical charge make the cell suddenly fire. All the cells around it suddenly ramp up in their charge potential. Maybe some of them fire, maybe none of them do. But all of those cells are suddenly affecting the cells they’re connected to; our initial starting conditions have just had a massive change. And we all know what happens then.

It’s not exactly the massive bounty of free choice you may have been hoping for. After all, we are the product of our experience; none of us can choose to do things that are beyond our capability. But in just a single hour of mental exercise, we’ve seen a change that, on atomic levels, has immense potential. The feedback from that change is unknowable. It may change a day. Or, on the scale of the universe, it may change all of history. Hard to know which, isn’t it?

If you haven’t already, you must now go over and read LabRat’s post on this subject. Because if you don’t, the kittens are going to get it.

*For those of you already familiar with the concept of infinity, we apologise for the link to the Hotel Infinity story. I know, it’s not fully accurate, but it does get the basic concepts across. I’ll serve my jail time for this crime at an infinitely later date.

**Which are not actually that high; not only does the multiverse guarantee the existence of life somewhere, the chance of life forming here are pretty damn strong, given a sufficient time frame. The truly astronomical odds are the chances of life like us, specifically, forming.

***Yes, I know that’s not technically accurate. However, for the purposes of this argument, it’s good enough. Please see footnote one for likely punishment scenario.