Free Will: Maybe We Never Really Needed This Word

— On a Concept That Might Be Past Its Time

For thousands of years, humans have been fascinated by the idea of “free will.”
We rely on it to make sense of choice, responsibility, morality, regret, and hope.
It quietly supports much of how we understand what it means to say, “I did this.”

And yet, lately, I have begun to wonder whether this concept is as clear as we assume.

What if we have been circling around a poorly defined term all along?

What Do We Mean by “Freedom” and “Will”?

Let us first separate the phrase.

“Freedom” is usually understood as the absence of external coercion, or the ability to determine one’s own actions.

At first glance, this seems reasonable.
But it quickly becomes problematic when examined closely.

If a decision is entirely shaped by external conditions, it hardly feels free.
But if it is completely random and detached from causality, it is difficult to see how it truly belongs to the person either.

So freedom seems to require a strange middle ground:

neither determined nor random.

But what exactly is this state?
Where does it exist?
Can it be observed, modeled, or tested?

So far, no clear answer has emerged.

Now consider “will.”

We usually associate it with internal motivation and intention.
Someone with strong willpower is thought to resist temptation and persist toward goals.

This interpretation is not unreasonable.

However, if we analyze how human behavior is actually generated, it looks something like this:

external input + internal state (neural structure, biochemical conditions, memory, experience) → action or speech

Structurally, this is not fundamentally different from how artificial systems operate.
The main difference lies in complexity, not in principle.

A system receives inputs, processes them through internal parameters, and produces outputs.
There may be some randomness involved, but the overall process remains explainable.

It is not purely deterministic.
But it is difficult to call it “free” in any strong sense either.

What Is “Free Will” Actually Referring To?

Once both “freedom” and “will” become unclear, a deeper question arises:

What is “free will” really pointing to?

The more I think about it, the more it seems less like an objective phenomenon and more like an interpretive framework we impose on ourselves.

In many ways, we cling to this concept because we are uncomfortable with a simple fact:

our behavior is explainable.

It is psychologically easier to believe that a separate “self” is making independent choices than to accept that decisions emerge from interacting systems and histories.

The idea of free will provides emotional stability.

But as we increasingly recognize humans as highly complex information-processing systems, that stability begins to weaken.

Motivation Does Not Need a Command Center

This does not mean that humans lack inner motivation.

We do feel desire, hesitation, struggle, and determination.

But these forces are themselves parts of the system.
They do not require an inner commander issuing instructions from outside the causal chain.

There is no need for a hidden executive in the brain.
No need for a metaphysical “true self” beyond physical processes.

We are, fundamentally, dynamic feedback systems.

From this perspective, “will” becomes a pattern of internal states rather than an independent source of control.

Seen this way, it becomes more concrete—and more scientifically meaningful.

A Question That May Have Expired

From this angle, free will is not exactly wrong.

It resembles a conceptual artifact from an earlier stage of human self-understanding.

Its “freedom” is vague.
Its “will” is deeply anthropomorphic.

It is a linguistic construction that once served a purpose,
but now feels increasingly clumsy.

This does not deny the reality of choice, responsibility, reflection, or anxiety.
These experiences remain deeply real.

But perhaps they no longer need to be explained through “free will.”

More precise and honest frameworks may serve us better.

Rethinking What It Means to Become Oneself

I do not claim to have a final answer.

But I no longer find myself obsessed with the question, “Does free will exist?”

What interests me more is this:

Can we understand who we are, why we choose, and how we change
without relying on that concept?

If the answer is not:

“I chose to become who I am,”

but rather:

“Within an extremely complex system of inputs, states, and outputs, I gradually became this person,”

then perhaps that is not frightening at all.

It does not erase human meaning.
It makes it more grounded.

Perhaps this is a more honest form of clarity.