Why moral judgment is possible (and necessary) without free will
Introduction
In a world where political outrage, moral sensitivities and mutual recriminations dominate public discourse, the idea that no one is really ‘at fault’ seems radical. No politician, no criminal, no human being – not even Donald Trump. I subscribe to a harsh determinism: the idea that every thought, every feeling, every action is causally produced by preconditions. There is no free will in the metaphysical sense. And that is precisely why it is possible to treat people with deep empathy – without condemning them. But that does not mean we are defenceless.
On the contrary: a deterministic worldview allows us to rethink ethical responsibility – beyond revenge, guilt or moral superiority. It creates space for functional ethics, for systemic thinking and for an attitude that recognizes human dignity even where people instinctively want to deny it.
1. The problem with guilt
Our Western thinking is based on an intuitive concept of guilt: those who do something bad could have decided differently. Those who ‘freely’ choose evil deserve punishment. But this assumption is empirically untenable. Every human being is a product of their genetics, upbringing, education, trauma, culture and biological predispositions. When someone acts violently, manipulatively or recklessly, it is the result of an unchosen causal process.
Even the most serious offenses can be traced back to causes: violence can be the result of neglect, narcissism of deep insecurity, lust for power of learned compensation patterns. This does not excuse the act, but it explains the perpetrator. And without understanding, there can be no improvement.
There is no guilt in the metaphysical sense. But there can still be responsibility – functional, not morally charged. Not as condemnation, but as prevention.
2. Hard determinism
Determinism is the philosophical view that all events – including human thoughts, decisions, and actions – are determined by previous causes. From a strictly scientific perspective, this means that if all initial conditions are known, everything that follows is also determined.
In the debate about free will, there are two main opposing positions:
- Compatibilism asserts that free will is compatible with a deterministic worldview. Proponents such as Daniel Dennett and Harry Frankfurt argue that freedom does not mean being able to make decisions ‘completely without cause,’ but rather that we, as acting subjects, make decisions that arise from our own motivational structure. As long as no one forces us, this is ‘free enough.’
- Hard determinism, on the other hand, denies any form of freedom of choice. It considers the feeling of autonomy to be an illusion and argues that even our motives, intentions, and thoughts are themselves the product of causal chains. So, for example, when we believe that we are acting of our own free will, this impression is already determined.
I myself subscribe to hard determinism. Compatibilism seems to me like a semantic evasion: it replaces freedom with coherence or self-identification without solving the actual problem. For even if I act ‘according to my will,’ the question remains: Where does this will come from? If I have not given it to myself, it is not free.
I therefore assume that there is no free will. Nor is there a hidden entity within us that could decide freely ‘beyond’ the chain of causes. Even if indeterminate influences exist (as some would like to deduce from quantum physics), they are random – and randomness is no substitute for freedom. We act because we have to act. The decision we make is the only one we could have made.
This idea is unbearable for many. It seems to negate self-efficacy, undermine ethics, and even question what makes us human. But the opposite is true: abandoning the illusion of autonomous will allows us to analyze human behavior more radically – and influence it more effectively.
If no one is ‘free,’ then no one is inferior. Everyone is what they have been made. And even the person writing this did not create themselves.
3. Ethics without free will
If no one is free, what remains of ethics? A great deal. Because people do not live in metaphysical concepts, but in societies. There, behavior must be regulated, protection guaranteed and conflicts resolved. Responsibility thus becomes a functional principle: those who pose a danger must be stopped – not out of hatred, but to protect the community. Those who cause suffering to others need boundaries – not for retribution, but for prevention.
My own ethical stance is based on a radically egalitarian view of human beings: if no one has chosen their character, their circumstances, or their history, there is no legitimate basis for moral superiority. Every human being is equally valuable, regardless of their development or their actions. However, this does not mean that all behavior is equally acceptable. Rather, ethics is a systemic corrective: it should protect, regulate and heal – not condemn, hate or punish.
Understood in this way, ethics becomes a controlling system that focuses not on guilt but on mechanisms of action. What motivates people to harm others? How can conditions be created that promote cooperative behavior? What role do education, empathy, social security and mental health play? Questions like these replace the reflex to punish with systemic criticism.
4. Understanding instead of contempt
On the difficulty of not being hateful
It is not easy to live by this principle, especially when confronted with ideologies or groups that actively seek to harm oneself or others. How can one remain empathetic towards people who question one’s very existence, for example in political contexts such as the rise of right-wing extremist parties?
A deterministic worldview does not mean that you are no longer allowed to feel anger. This anger is a protective reflex: against threats, against injustice, against irrationality. But hatred as a moral judgment – as a condemnation of a person or group – loses its basis if no one is the cause of their own thoughts or actions.
Instead, it becomes clear that even destructive ideologies are the product of fear, conditioning, educational deficits, trauma and cultural context. That does not mean that they should be tolerated – on the contrary. But we can defend ourselves differently:
- Think systemically, don’t dehumanize: I want to understand how people become this way – not to excuse them, but to prevent them.
- Act structurally, not destroy emotionally: I want to limit the influence and power of such ideologies – through political clarity, education, and enlightenment.
- Distinguish without despising: I strictly reject the behavior, but I do not see the person behind it as metaphysically ‘evil’.
You have to protect yourself, be loud, clear, and consistent. But out of clarity, not hatred. Out of care, not moral hubris.
What you don’t despise, you may be able to change effectively. What you understand, you no longer have to hate. And what you want to protect deserves clarity – not hostility.
The example of a murderer
Let’s take an extreme example: a murderer. In classical thinking, he is a ‘bad person’. In deterministic thinking, he is a tragic product of his circumstances. That does not mean that we trivialize the act. But we can refrain from hatred. We can view the person as a human being who never had the chance to be different. And yet we can (and must) isolate him, treat him or permanently separate him if he remains a danger.
This means that an enlightened society is allowed to defend itself. It is allowed to exert coercion, ward off dangers and draw boundaries. But it should do so without revulsion, without dehumanization, without moral arrogance. The murderer is not the Other, the ‘evil’ one. He is a human being with a different causal history.
Such an attitude does not imply weakness. On the contrary, it is rational, stable, and consistent. A society that remains humanistic even in its sanctions is stronger than any criminal justice system based on outrage.
5. The functional illusion of freedom
Everyday experience suggests free choice: ‘Should I buy the red or blue shoes?’ But even such decisions follow unconscious preferences, contexts and external influences. Within the system, we experience an illusion of freedom that is necessary for our psyche and decision-making. But it is not a basis for metaphysical guilt.
An example: I can influence a person through arguments or rhetoric to choose red shoes instead of blue ones. That is functional influence. But viewed from the outside, my influence was also predetermined. Within the system, ‘responsibility’ makes sense. Outside the system, it is meaningless.
This insight does not devalue our actions – it merely relativizes the claim to moral absoluteness. We continue to act, make decisions, argue and persuade. But we do all this within a causal structure, not as autonomous agents.
6. Conclusion: humanity through clarity
A radically deterministic worldview seems cold. In fact, however, it leads to deeper empathy. There are no ‘good’ or ‘bad’ people. Only people. We can understand them without condoning them. We can limit them without hating them. We can rehabilitate or separate them without taking away their dignity.
This perspective enables a society that is both soft and strong: soft in its judgments, strong in its actions. It takes people seriously because it recognizes how little they have made themselves. And it takes itself seriously by systematically looking at causes rather than scapegoats.
Those who think free of guilt do not think unethically. They think systemically. And perhaps that is the only way a just society can actually emerge.
