Free will is fundamental to human existence (Arnason, 2011). Neuroscience implies that free will is not a defining feature of humanness, but is in fact an illusion concealed by biochemical complexity (Burns & Bechara, 2007). Developments in neuroscience have led us to question our views about whether we have conscious free will (Heisenberg, 2009; Nahmias, 2009; Smith, 2011). Various experiments into the phenomenon appear to show that we do not have conscious free will, however these experiments have been highly criticised for many reasons (Kolb & Wishaw, 2008).
Despite these criticisms, there appears to be little evidence to suggest that we do in fact have conscious free will. Free will is fundamental to human existence and is defined as the ability or discretion to choose freely (Nahmias, 2012). Voluntary action is a key aspect of human behaviour, which involves both brain processes and conscious experience (Gazzaninga, 2005). Brain imaging studies in both humans and animals has identified that identified brain area networks such as the pre-supplementary motor area, anterior prefrontal cortex and parietal cortex all underlie voluntary action (Haggard, 2008).
When we have the intention to perform a certain action, the brain attempts to create a coherent sensory experience of the movement, and its consequences (Blakemore, Oakley & Frith, 2003; Haggard et al, 2002). It appears that we consciously will our voluntary actions, but Wegner (2002) states this is an illusion, in the sense that the experience of consciously willing an action doesn’t show a direct indication that it was the conscious thought itself that caused the action.
This theory has been a key debate within the neuroscience of consciousness and is considerably important, for more than simply our understanding of the brain (Velmans, 2004). Legal systems use the concept of free will when attempting to assign moral responsibility for actions (Sinnot-Armstrong & Nadel, 2011). The concept is also important in term of certain neurological psychopathological conditions, for example conversion disorder (Haggard, Cartledge, Dafydd & Oakley, 2004) and schizophrenia (Bernacer & Gimenez- Amaya, 2012; Frith, 1987).
Studies into conscious free will have revealed that brain activity connected to decision-making appears to precede conscious action. The first known research into conscious free will was by Libet et al (1983). Their research focused on the so-called unconscious intentions that take place when we make decisions regarded as free and voluntary (Haggard and Libet, 2015). Participants were asked to move their right wrist, at a time of their own choosing and then make a note of the time they were first aware of their desire to act, which he named ‘W’.
Whilst they did this, an EEG machine monitored their brain activity. Attention was focused on a particular negative brain potential, called the RP, or Readiness Potential (Libet, 2003), situated in the supplementary motor area (SMA). It was discovered that the brain activity occurred almost three hundred milliseconds before participants reported the desire to act. These findings appear to show that simple actions are triggered by neural activity, and therefore support the idea that free will is an illusion (Libet, 2000).
However, he also states that even though we have no conscious will in terms of initiating movement, we possess a cognitive ‘veto’, allowing us to cancel actions before we carry them out (Nahmias, 2014). This has often been referred to as “free won’t” (Shermer, 2012). Frith et al (1999) support Libet’s claims through their own experiment. They asked participants to grab an illuminated rod and announce when they consciously made the decision. The results showed that there was a 300 ms difference between initialization of the action and the declaration of conscious choice.
Haggard and Eimer (1999) used the same method as Libet, however, they asked participants to move either their left or right finger at will. They compared the RP to the lateral readiness potential (LRP). They found that RP seemed to occur later in trials where participants had an early awareness of initiating movement than in the trials with later awareness. This evidence suggests that it is in fact the LRP, rather than the RP that cause movement, therefore suggesting that our awareness of decision making comes after the decision was made within the unconscious brain (Obhi & Haggard, 2004).
In a repetition of Libet et al’s experiments, Sirigu et al (2004) found that participants only became aware of their decision to move only when they are carrying out the action. They claim that participant’s awareness of the decision does not coincide with the beginning of the movement, but instead with the motor action itself. They concluded that during planned movements, parietal cortex activity generates an internal loop, which is predicative of the upcoming movement.
Soon, Brass, Heinze and Haynes (2008) reported that fMRI’s show that there is very little space for the operation of free will, and that the outcome of a decision is shaped much earlier by brain activity than the moment we feel we are making it. Despite the evidence to support the view that conscious free will is an illusion, there is a large amount of evidence to suggest otherwise. Klemm (2010) believes that the research to support the view has been grossly misinterpreted.
Klemm argues that Wegner’s experiments test more than just the idea that people have conscious free will and that it is extremely difficult to tell whether the intent is conscious or unconscious. He also stated that Libets experiments are somewhat problematic, surrounding the reliability of introspection and the accuracy of timing awareness. Dennet and Weiner (1991) criticised Libet’s interpretations of the findings, as he stated that people have to shift their attention away from their intention, to the clock. This introduces a mismatch between the experience of will and the perceived position of the clock hand (Gregson, 1992).
Matsuhashi and Hallett (2008) invented new methodology in order to estimate ‘W’. During their experiments, they discovered that the RP (which they named BP1) occurred before ‘W’ in two thirds of participants and the LRP always occurred after ‘W’. Klemm (2016) also argued that no one really knows where the conscious self lies within the brain, and that the motor cortex only began to increase in activity before the self-reported intent to move. Libet claims that the neural activity which underlies the RP causes both the will to move and the movement itself.
However, if this was the case, then one would presume that the decision must be caused by a chain of neural events, which cannot be demonstrated and has never been proved (Banks & Pockett, 2007). This was pointed out by Libet et al, who specified that their conclusions only apply to spontaneous and rapid movements (1993). Banks & Isham (2009) tested the relationship between the RP and the awareness of the intention to move (W). They used a variation of Libet’s button pressing study, whereby a delayed tone following the pressing of the button.
If, as Libet claimed, ‘W’ was locked to the RP, then it would remain completely unaffected by any information received after the action. However, their findings show that ‘W’ shifted when the tone was presented, leading them to suggest that ‘W’ is reconstructed, rather than pre-determined. Alfred Mele (2014) criticizes Libet, as he believes that Libet did not show that the specific type of neural activity he measured is invariably followed by the flexing of the wrist. He also points out that he did not check for any cases where neural activity was not followed by wrist flexing (Mele, 2009).
It has also been argued that that Libet’s experiments are idiosyncratic, in that participants must wait passively until they had the urge to flex their wrist, which is the opposite to how our actions work. Simple actions, such as flexing the wrist only require our procedural memory, however in our everyday live, they involve active deliberation and the weighing of pros and cons and require us to use our episodic memory, thus leading Mele to conclude that the findings cannot extend to all human actions, based on an artificial situation (Baumeister, Mele & Vohs, 2010).
Hermann et al (2008) cast doubt on the interpretation of the RP, regarding the causal relation to decision and movement. They modified Libet’s experimental paradigm, whereby participants had to choose between one of two buttons, depending on a presented stimulus. They discovered that an RP occurred well before the movement, as it did in Libet’s, however, they found it occurred before the stimulus was presented, thus showing that it did not show any reflection on which button to press (Lavazza, 2016).
From this Hermann et al concluded the RP may not specifically determine the movement but may instead reflect a state of readiness for movement (Blackmore, 2010). Trevena and Miller (2010) created a modified version of Libet’s experiment and found that the RP was no stronger before the decision to move than it was afterwards which, if the RP mirrored a neural decision to move would not be the case (Caruso, 2012). They also stated that the signal found in Libet’s experiments is merely a sign that the brain is paying attention (REF).
The argument that we that conscious free will is an illusion somewhat compelling, however not without criticism. Libet et al’s experiments paved the way for further research into the field of conscious free will, by discovering evidence to suggest the brain activity comes before conscious actions. These claims have been supported by others, through research of their own. Libet et al also reported that although we have no free will, we are able to ‘veto’ our actions; a notion which coined the term “free won’t”.
However, there are those, such as Klemm who believe that the results of these experiments have been grossly misinterpreted and that no one really knows where consciousness lies within the brain. It has also been said that the findings cannot explain all human actions, as many include deliberation and time. Taking all arguments into account, it would seem that neither side has produced a particularly compelling argument, however it would appear that our need to believe we have free will is strong.