If you haven't already, go check out Part 1 of this series.
So my second favorite moment of TSP is when Stanley, after thoroughly wrecking The Narrator's story, arrives at two doors. The Narrator wants control back and so, after much internal deliberation, forcibly opens the door on Stanley's right. Stanley enters and sees a massive timeline of the story, indicating every choice -- every bit of The Narrator's dialogue, every instance at which you chose to wreck the story -- was predetermined.
Here's the best part: If you, the player, turn around, you see two doors behind you -- the same two doors you just saw, one of which you thought was forced upon you. Stanley's entrance into the room was inevitable, regardless of The Narrator's decision to open the door on the right. This minor detail reflects what the timeline is already showing you, only in a more powerful way. Every outcome has a script. You don't know when you are in control, and when the game is railroading you onto a narrative. You have no say over your autonomy.
Often, the illusion of choice satisfies us as much as an actual choice would. Truly open sandboxes are frightening; you've got all this sand and no idea what to do with it. Better to have a few tools and a set of loose blueprints than nothing. Better to have a clear goal than no goal. Better to embrace the illusion of choice than have bad options.
Writers often say the scariest part of their profession is the blank page.
The illusion of choice extends farther. Do we have any free will whatsoever?
That's a difficult question, so let's try to arrive at the answer in gradual fashion. The Socratic method will help us.
Imagine someone you really, really dislike. Think about all the vile, horrible things they do that cause you to dislike them. Now, ask yourself: If you had been raised in that person's circumstance, i.e. with the same genes, with the same family, with the same environment, would you act any differently? I don't think I would.
What makes you you? It must be your genetics, your family, your environment. People have been telling you what's right and what's wrong since you were born. Notice how none of these things are under your control. Your thoughts originate from exterior inputs. Your actions, every one of them, are traceable to situations beyond yourself.
Suppose after reading this, you say to yourself, "Wow, Weiliang is so wrong. I'll show him I have free will. I'm going to go outside and choose to pick up a particular rock. No one told me to go pick up that rock, but I did. This means I have free will." Yet the only reason you went out to pick up that rock was because you were reading this blog. You are only able to read this blog because I wrote it. This circumstance was outside of your control entirely. Meanwhile, the reason I started writing this blog was because I wanted to share my thoughts with other people; in other words, because of your existence.
It might be scary to think about the fact that we don't have free will (this idea is called determinism), but I think it's rather liberating. Imagine a judicial framework which subscribes to this theory. Such a system would recognize that a human being doesn't simply choose to become a criminal. Rather, criminals are borne out of the exterior influences of their environment. Such a system would focus on getting rid of the causes of crime, rather than punishing individuals for committing it. It would emphasize rehabilitation over degradation.
Think about what determinism says about love as a part of the human experience. Familial and friendly loves are woven into the fabric of existence. Romantic love is better. The universe conspires, on a daily basis, to ignite fires of passion and committment which bring even the most divergent people together. Look at someone you care about -- determinism says you are destined to have them in your life. Love is more powerful when we realize we have no choice but to experience it.
-Me
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