How Should We Understand 'Feeling Free'?

(This post is meant to continue clarifying some problems with the contemporary discussion of determinism and free will which were mentioned here.)

   In the dispute over free will, I find an acknowledgement from all factions that we possesses a feeling of freedom. It is crucial to cultivate our discourse on this feeling, since it determines when the term 'free' is suitable.  And, while there is no doubt that we all have some feeling of freedom that allows us to speak of freedom (even to deny freedom), I am not sure that the same thing is always being spoken of.  Further, the standard that governs the discourse on free will has changed over time in a way that is less suited to topics, such as morality, that bring us to the discussion to begin with.

   I hope to get clearer on the standard for discussing human freedom, and help get this discourse back on track.

   Freedom is often understood relative to a feeling accompanying decisions. It is not clear that these resolutions of indecisiveness are helpful as the standard of freedom, and there is another potential standard of freedom that will seem more helpful as this discussion develops.

   We often find ourselves acting easily, and, without reflecting, knowing how to proceed. There is always some level of our activity that is arranged by an understanding of how to proceed; even when we are indecisive we have a mode of proceeding in getting ourselves back on track. When we consider this way of operating, it is not a mere connection of appearances, but a connection of possibilities and objectives along with a known technique and skill for operating. This knowledge of how to proceed, is a form of our experiencing the world and cannot be constructed from any mere aggregate of things. This 'knowing how to proceed' (or at least a portion of it) serves as another possible standard for human freedom.

   Choice results from a breakdown in our knowing how to proceed, and so stands in an important relationship to it. Understanding the context where freedom emerges as this break down constrains us to think of freedom in contexts where we are lacking in direction and thrown into the realm of trying to find our way again. In this context, the free act presents itself as the choice that resolves our indecisiveness and restores our feeling of knowing how to proceed. However, the choices we make are the result of either some discursive reasoning, or what seems to be impulse, and so if choice is taken as the paradigm of freedom we also tend to include this deliberation or spontaniety.  This is where choice as the standard of freedom introduces some problems.

   (Understand how rationalizing — an activity where we know how to proceed — returns us to knowing how to proceed in the some other domain is crucial, but I will leave this as a topic for the future.)

   Because we cannot admit real spontaneity (randomness) as freedom (since this would not place us in 'control'), we must look to the rationalization we put into making the choice. When we consider such rationalizations, we seem prone to only concern ourselves with gathering up facts and values. If we agree that our choice was by an aggregate of facts, then it was decided by something external to us; if it is our values, then we must either argue for the essential validity of our values, or give external reasons for their correctness, and in either case we will end up deferring to something else which has determined us, or something spontaneous again.

   From the above, it may seem like I am arguing against free will, but really I am trying to show how we cannot get back to our concerns with morality when we take the standard of freedom to be choice. When rationalizing is fetishized so that being a rational man means giving arguments, then the vast majority of our activities, which simply operate in the mode of knowing how to proceed, are removed from consideration, since these become unconscious, and even irrational.

   Sometimes knowing how to proceed is involuntary, such as times when we flinch, and these do not seem good candidates for our standard of freedom. However, there are times when knowing how to proceed comes explicitly with our agency being involved - when we experience a duty to act in a certain way.  

   The experience of duty is an experience of knowing how (we ought) to proceed, where the action is demanded of us. This sort of knowing how to proceed requires that we postulate ourselves as able to carry out the action under our own power. This phrase, 'under our own power', must be made clearer. If the action I take is considered merely as the result of some mechanism that continues outside of me, the agency must be attributed to all parties in the series of causes equally, or we must agree that by moral responsibility we think something akin to the results of hot potato (and perhaps some do, but I do not think those who say so are entirely clear about their experience of moral feelings such as responsibility, guilt and indignation towards others). In contrast, acting under our own power means considering a result as stemming from something that has no prior moment determining it, and also considered as resulting as an effect of us.

   Duty, or knowing how we ought to proceed, does not need to emerge due to deliberation — and usually does not. It also does not settle what will happen any more than our knowing how to proceed settles our success in the matter. However, knowing how we ought to proceed serves as our best standard for the suitability of applying the term 'free' to ourselves, since while we are experiencing it, we are implicated as agents (as able to produce effects by our own power). Now, this does not settle the 'reality' of free will, but it is the only standard we have for not only our acceptance and denial of this important concept, but also of its intelligibility.

   Even though when we know how we ought to proceed we are determined, it is not in a manner that thinks our connection to the mechanism of nature, and so we must cease trying to understand our freedom in terms of an indeterminacy which misses our concerns through randomness, or on the basis of rationalizing which must once again defer to something else or spontaneity. To be free is to be determined, however, to be more precise, self-determined, and the feeling most suited to grounding this is that of knowing how we ought to proceed.

Should Socrates Have Escaped?

Whenever I discuss Plato's Crito the typical reaction I find is of disappointment in Socrates for not escaping his sentence. We all feel - even know - that Socrates is innocent, and recognize an injustice that is being committed against him. If Socrates really supports justice then should he not escape so that the innocent are not punished? Is it not our duty to disobey orders that are unjust?

Socrates may appear hypocritical in not sparing his own life when it is to be taken unjustly, but I think that nothing is farther from the case. Socrates was certainly falsely accused (as he himself admits), but he is right to submit himself to the law; the reason for this is nothing draconian, nor is it some fantastic fear that Athens would topple if this one man were to disobey. The reason is that Socrates truly does care about justice and the Crito shows us what this means to Socrates.

For all of those who say that Socrates should escape in the name of justice, I, along with Socrates, will suggest that they are great enemies of justice. This philosophical point is totally lost in the typical reading. Furthermore, most subtle points and problems of the Crito are lost, such as the problem of the expert of justice and the relationship of the laws of Athens to their "brothers" in Hades. I hope briefly to provide my reasons for holding this view of the Crito. (Another issue with this faulty reading of the consistency of Socrates' own character is called into question, and therefore Plato's greatness as an artist.)

Assumptions of the Interpretation:

First of all, I assume that we should believe Socrates when he says that leaving Athens would lead to a life not worth living, for he did choose death over exile; however, this still allows us to wonder what it was about escaping from jail and leaving Athens that would have made life not worth living. Here are the two options that I see as available, the first being the most common one that I encounter.

1. Socrates did not want to be called a hypocrite by the many. It was a pride in not wanting to be proved wrong that led him to succumb to the law.
2. Socrates lived life in a way, and towards an ideal, that was in fact impossible without the state as he conceived of it. It is a genuine love for the state that prevents him from leaving.

From these options the second is the most appropriate reading. The clearest reason is that the first shows Socrates being concerned with the opinions of the many while this way of acting is explicitly ridiculed. Recall that in the beginning of the dialogue Crito complains about what everyone will think of him for not saving his friend; Socrates maintains that it is experts that we should listen to, not the mob. Who is the expert that they have recourse to? We can discuss this later.

Even though we have sided with the second of these it is not yet clear what exactly the state is such that it is necessary for a life well lived. An important element of the dialogue is how the many who actually constitute the state are contrasted with the state in its ideal or principle form. Socrates shows concern for matters in principle over how they are given their representation consistently - this is almost the entire use of the theory of forms for guiding thought. We should consider, now, in what way the state is required for a life well lived.

The Possibility of Justice:

Crito tries to convince Socrates that he should leave for more reasons than a fear of gossip; some of these reasons are noble in appearance. For example, Socrates should continue the education of his children. When Socrates invokes the Laws of Athens to speak for themselves they reply to Crito point-by-point. On the matter of education, they reply that the state is what makes education possible to begin with! How could we abandon the state in order to attend to our children's education? Now, we can easily say that Socrates escape from jail will not prevent Socrates from educating his children in another state, however, this is not the point; what are they being educated for if not for a life in a state? (Does this help show us the relationship between education, the state and a life well lived?) We must invoke the difference of the concrete implementation of the state, and the state in principle.

I have said already that it is clear that a single person breaking the laws does not bring down the state in its physical manifestation, but for those who break the law they ruin the state in principle for themselves. We cannot maintain that we are a subject of the state if we also maintain that I have authority over the state. If Socrates can teach us one thing here it is consistency.

If we abandon the state in principle we truly abandon it and make justice impossible; it is the ideal of the state which guides progress and actually is compelling, not the fallible many. Once we abandon the state in principle and no longer pursue it ourselves, we only have private affairs. These private affairs may be given the appearance of public affairs, but never can be while lacking the support of the ideal of the state. (How little do any of us live in a state today in these Socratic terms.) If we care about the state as Socrates does, we cannot forsake the principle without also forsaking justice itself which depends upon it. To destroy the possibility of the state in principle for us whenever we disagreeing with the many and are injured by their misjudgments is to have never really lived in a state. The poor judgment against Socrates is only a failure of justice, this is something that could only happen if justice itself is possible. Socrates maintains that justice requires a state in principle.

This tells us something very important. To live in a state to begin with is not a real circumstance. Just being in a group of people who are all able to make mistakes and poor judgments is not a state. Living in a state is rather ideal, and only insofar as we submit ourselves to that ideal can we conceive of something like justice. With this main argument finished, I will address some other topics important in the Crito. (Update from Comment Thread Concerning an Aim of my Interpretation: Submission to the state is very peculiar, we sacrifice our freedom to the state for some greater security (freedom in a different sense). We must understand Socrates as having submitted himself to the state in this way and then the question of what we really get in return for our submission opens up as an additional and larger question (maybe addressed in Plato's Republic). I think it is a valuable exercise to consider what it is that we require to live a good life, and if the ways in which we are submitted to our state (or any authority) actually contribute to that personal well-being, or if this submission only produces new ways of being insecure so that we actually have a net loss in freedom. Certainly we have seen examples of states where it would be better not to be in one at all. The Crito does not address these concerns directly, but provides an avenue of opening these questions. My interest in defending Socrates decision on the grounds I have are in the interest of this broader question that is more compelling to me.)

The Expert of Justice:

The examples of experts that Plato provides in other dialogues are professionals, such as doctors, but in matters where the skills are virtue and wisdom we find that Socrates defies the normal notion of experts - experts are lacking. Rather the experts become the forms towards which we much come to understand through our pursuit of virtue or wisdom.

In the Crito, Socrates is clear that he has been wronged not by the laws, but by the many; there is no expert among the many (Socrates included), and so the laws themselves come forward as expert (yet, mark that Socrates himself is speaking for them). This can suggest a problem of democracy to some, but I rather see it as displaying a risk that faces democracy, but not an inherent problem.

The reading of this as problematic is that there is actually no person who is an expert on justice, and so democracy is always unjust. Of course, no matter what form of government you have the ruling class will not be experts in justice, so this should fall flat as a problem with democracy, but all government.

Perhaps the risk is that each person takes themselves to be an expert of justice and no longer works towards an ideal. By each person taking themselves to be the expert the possibility of dialogue (as opposed to debate) is diminished, the hostility within the state among all these supposed experts increases, and all men work only for private interests and not the state - like Crito is doing in this very dialogue.

The Laws of Hades:

In the last moments of the dialogue, the laws of Athens say that they are the brothers of the laws of Hades - of the afterlife. The relationship between moral laws and civil laws are drawn here. I will do nothing more than mention that this relates to the Phaedo, which also has a different theodicy for why we must have immortal souls. I feel like there is a lot of work to be done to understand this further.

Kant's Metaphysics of Morals, Doctrine of Right:

As an addition, this reading of the Crito gives me a new way to appreciate the arguments about punishment in Kant's work that normally seem so harsh. I will not spend any time on this here, but I cannot shake the feeling that the Crito is essential to understanding Kant's thought here.