Understanding Man's Free Will: A Chess Analogy
In parshas Netzavim (30:15), the Torah states that Hashem set forth choices before the Jewish people, "et ha'chayim v'et ha'tov; v'et hamavet v'et hara - "life and good; and death and evil." Thereafter, in 30:19, the Jewish people are commanded, "u'bacharta ba'chayim - choose life." Rashi comments that Hashem is instructing what is good, and advising the Jewish people to choose it much as a father might tell his son to choose the finest portions of his estate and then points out which those fine parts are.
These verses reflect the concept of "free will" - that is, the Torah is a guide to what is good and what is wrong, but it is up to man to choose the good, and reject the evil.
There is an interesting discussion in gemara Sotah (2a), that elaborates on the concept of free will. The gemara states that a man is paired with a wife based on his deeds. Rashi explains that a righteous man is paired with a righteous woman; while a wicked man is paired with a wicked woman. The gemara then questions this statement as it is written elsewhere that forty days before the formation of a male embryo (see Tosafos), a heavenly voice proclaims, that the daughter of so-and-so shall be married to this male.
As Rashi explains the question: How can the gemara state that shidduchim are based on an individual's merits when another source states that a man's shidduch is determined even before it is known whether he will be good or evil (i.e., at conception). Rashi suggests that perhaps one can answer that Hashem knows the future, and therefore knows in advance that such-and-such person will be good or evil. Thus, there is no contradiction. But Rashi then dismisses that argument with another dictum holding "hakol bi'yedei shamayim chutz mi'yirat shamayim - everything is in the Hands of Heaven, except fear of Heaven." In other words, notwithstanding that Hashem is All Knowing, it is man who chooses to be good or evil - i.e., man has free will.
As proof of Man's free will, Rashi cites a gemara in Niddah that the angel responsible for conception asks Hashem concerning each embryo whether the future child will be strong or weak; wise or dumb; rich or poor - that is, the angel asks Hashem to declare the circumstances of the man's life. But, as Rashi notes, the angel does NOT ask whether the man will be righteous or wicked - since that is Man's choice - to take the circumstances decreed for him and choose the path of good or the path of evil.
Thus, the gemara's question remains valid: how can one source state that shidduchim are based on merit while another source states shidduchim are determined before a man's merits are known (the gemara responds that one source refers to a first marriage, while the second source refers to a remarriage).
Rashi's statements thus raise a conundrum. On the one hand, if Hashem knows the future, then it seems man's actions are preordained. Yet, at the same time, Rashi states emphatically that man has free will to choose between good and evil, and only the circumstances of his life, not his moral actions, are preordained.
Is there a solution to this riddle?
In Hilchos Teshuva (5:5), Rambam notes that people may question the concept of free will in light of Hashem's knowledge. For if Hashem knows that a person will be righteous, how can it possibly be that such a man will end up NOT being righteous (although, as noted, Rashi argues that righteousness is NOT decreed by Hashem, only circumstances are decreed). Rambam concludes that it is beyond man to resolve the contradiction, but concludes that there is no doubt that man has free will to choose his actions. And because man has free will, he may be punished for choosing evil, and rewarded for choosing good.
In his commentary, Ra'avad criticizes Rambam for pointing out the contradiction between Hashem's knowledge of the future, and man's free will, but then, instead of providing an answer, asking the reader to have faith that there is a resolution - we just don't know it. Ra'avad seems concerned that Rambam's approach will increase people's doubts, and therefore attempts to provide his own resolution.
Ra'avad draws a distinction between a decree of Hashem, which must come true, and Hashem's knowledge of future events, both major and minor, which impact a man's life. Such events, explains Ra'avad, are governed by natural forces (mazalot), which man has the ability to overcome through his free will. In other words, what Ra'avad seems to be saying is that Hashem knows all possible permutations of events that will confront a man in his life, as well as the moral capacities of each man to rise above these events, so to speak, and choose good, but this knowledge is not in the nature of a decree, and thus it is ultimately man who makes choices. IMHO, this sounds identical to Rashi's position - i.e., Hashem knows the circumstances of man's life, but man chooses righteousness in response to those circumstances.
In my college days, at a shabbaton, I once heard an interesting analogy used to explain Ra'avad's and Rashi's position (my apologies, I don't remember the rabbi's name and so can't give him credit). Preliminarily, as Rambam states, our human minds cannot fathom the divine - "lo machshevoti, machshevoteichem - my thoughts are not as your thoughts." Thus, no human analogy can purport to fully explain the nature of Hashem's knowledge, which is beyond our human faculties (much as a young infant cannot fathom the choices of his parents, lehavdil). Still, the analogy that follows may help individuals who are bothered by the conundrum of free will to better understand the concept within the realm of human experience.
Imagine a chess grandmaster (Gary Kasparov, if you will), who is teaching chess to a novice - someone who has never played the game before. Suppose Kasparov and the pupil play many games over the course of the month for the purpose of teaching the pupil basic moves and strategies. As the pupil's skills improve, Kasparov teaches him more advanced strategies.
As a result of these ongoing games, one can appreciate that Kasparov will begin to understand how this pupil thinks - how his mind works. Perhaps Kasparov may even be able to predict at times what move the pupil will make in a given situation knowing, as he does, the pupil's style and level of play. Maybe the pupil is aggressive by nature; or maybe he is passive or cautious. And so on.
Kasparov can also chart in his mind the progress of the pupil's skills, and at any given point in time, understand what level of play the pupil is capable of. As such, Kasparov might chastise the pupil when the pupil makes a mistake that is foolish in light of the skill level he has already achieved (which mistake might have been overlooked at the beginning of training when the pupil knew less).
However, it is most important to realize that no matter how much the pupil's skills have improved after a month, every single game is still fully and completely controlled by Kasparov. Kasparov creates the circumstances on the board according to which he wishes to test the pupil. He can prolong any game if he wishes to observe how the pupil will handle certain situations, or cut a game short if he becomes disappointed in the pupil's mistakes and wishes to teach the pupil a lesson.
Yet, while the chess grandmaster is fully in control of the circumstances on the board at all times, at the moment when the pupil makes any move, that move is the choice of the pupil. The pupil assesses the circumstances on the board, and based on the knowledge and skills achieved to date, chooses what move to make. The move may be a good one, or a bad one, but it is the pupil's move. Kasparov does not decree any move. Rather, he simply reacts to the pupil's moves, and depending on his pleasure or displeasure at the pupil's choices, will either prolong the game or cut it short.
So it is with man's free will, l'havdil. As Rashi stated, at conception, Hashem decrees the circumstances of a man's life. And as Ra'avad states, Hashem knows the capabilities with which He has endowed each man to rise above those circumstances. If Hashem is displeased with a man's choices in light of his capabilities and endowments, He will cut the man's life short (c'v). Or He may try to teach the man a lesson to encourage him to improve his choices. But at the moment of choice - to make, or not to make, a move in life - to choose between good and evil - the choice belongs entirely to man. As Ra'avad states, Hashem does not decree man's individual choices - hakol bi'yedei shamayim chutz mi'yirat shamayim.
This, then, is the Jewish concept of free will as presented by Hashem to the Jewish people. While life circumstances may vary, each individual has within him or her the capacity to choose good - to choose "life" as the Torah says; to act as a "yirei shamayim." This is quite unlike the common attitude of "victimization" often adopted in secular society pursuant to which people blame their bad behavior on difficult circumstances. The argument (mistaken according to the Torah) is that man loses the capacity to act morally when circumstances deteriorate.
Interestingly, the Torah's view of man's ability to exercise free will irrespective of circumstances was corroborated by the famous psychologist and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl, in Man's Search for Meaning, in which he describes the exercise of free will in the concentration and death camps during the Holocaust when circumstances were so horrible that it would seem man would become incapable of acting morally and ethically. That is, his actions would be driven enitrely by circumstances. But Frankl reports this was not the case (page 86-88):
In attempting this psychological presentation . . . of the typical characteristics of a concentration camp inmate, I may give the impression that the human being is completely and unavoidably influenced by his surroundings . . . But what about human liberty? Is there no spiritual freedom in regard to behavior and reaction to any given surroundings? . . . do the prisoners' reactions to the singular world of the concentration camp prove that man cannot escape the influences of his surroundings? Does man have no choice of action in the face of such circumstances? . . . We can answer these questions from experience as well as on principle. The experiences of camp life show that man does have a choice of action . . . There were enough examples often of a heroic nature, which proved that . . . man can preserve a vestige of spiritual freedom . . . even in such terrible conditions of psychic and physical stress. We who lived in concentrations camps can remember [heroic individuals] . . . [these men] offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken away from a man but one thing: the last of human freedoms -- to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way . . . Even though conditions such as lack of sleep, insufficient food and various mental stresses may suggest that inmates were bound to react in certain ways, in the final analysis it becomes clear that the sort of person the prisoner became was the result of an inner decision, and not the result of camp influences alone. Fundamentally, therefore, any man can, even under such circumstances, decide what shall become of him--mentally and spiritually . . . [whether he will] remain brave, dignified and unselfish. Or in the bitter fight for self-preservation he may forget his human dignity and become no more than an animal.
IMHO, Frankl's observations correspond to the Torah's concept of free will - hakol bi'yedei shamayim chutz mi'yirat shamayim. Each individual retains the capacity to choose good irrespective of circumstances (see similar idea expressed in story told by Howard Schultz, CEO of Starbucks, concerning his visit with Rabbi Nosson Tzvi Finkel, t"zl, in Mea Shearim).
Fortunately, we do not face daily circumstances as severe as those in a concentration camp. Yet, we do regularly face tests of our moral and ethical free will - how we will choose to act in exchanges with strangers, business partners, friends, children and spouses. Do we give in to our temptations? Or do we rise above them?
We may be tempted to argue that we acted improperly in a given situation because of another person - "I really had no choice". But the Torah says this is incorrect (and Frankl proves it is untrue experientially). Instead, irrespective of circumstances, Hashem endowed each of us with the capacity to weigh the moral correctness of our options in any given circumstance, and elect to behave in a way that is in accordance with Torah values (and if we're not sure, then we can ask a shailah).
These are important thoughts to carry with us as we enter the yamim noraim. As we pray for forgiveness, part of the process must include a resolution to more carefully consider our choices in the New Year so that we will consistently choose good.
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