Free will is a myth. That’s not necessarily a bad thing.

Abigail Meseroll, Contributing Writer

We like to think of ourselves as free — able to choose right from wrong, to triumph over temptation or to shape our destinies through sheer force of will. The belief in free will feels sacred — underpinning our moral judgments, our legal system and even our sense of identity. 

Science tells a different story. 

“Reciprocal determinism,” coined by psychologist Albert Bandura, challenged the notion that people act purely out of free will or are simply products of their environment. 

“Reciprocal determinism” can be defined in simple terms: our surroundings influence how we act, our actions can alter our surroundings and both feed back into who we are and how we think.

Modern psychology explains this dynamic using the biopsychosocial model, which broadens “reciprocal determinism” to include the full range of factors that drive human behavior such as:

Biological influences — genetics, brain chemistry and physical health.

Psychological influences — thoughts, emotions, beliefs and coping mechanisms.

Social influences — family, culture, relationships and broader environmental conditions.

Reciprocal determinism is the engine that powers the biopsychosocial model. 

The analysis of these omnipresent phenomena reminds us that no single cause explains human behavior. In reality, it is an ongoing feedback loop of constantly-interacting forces creating the complex, ever-changing reality of who one is. 

Despite these concepts being widely accepted in academia, the very idea of determinism frightens people. 

If our actions are shaped by forces beyond our control, does that mean accountability disappears? Will society collapse if no one is to blame?

There is no reason to fear determinism. In fact, embracing it could make us not only more compassionate, but more just.

A shift in perspective

In his groundbreaking book “Determined,” neurobiologist Robert Sapolsky dismantles the myth of free will — showing how every decision, from the mundane to the monumental, can be traced to biology and circumstance. 

For example, studies have shown that judges hand down harsher sentences when they’re hungry, yet they remain unaware of this bias. If a judge’s decision can be swayed by lunch, or a lack thereof, what does that say about the rest of us?

Understanding this has made me more gentle. I take better care of my body, knowing I’m most ethical and empathetic when I’m well-cared for. 

Determinism hasn’t robbed me of agency — it’s taught me how to nurture it.

Success no longer feels like proof of moral worth nor failure. I see no justice in choosing punishment over rehabilitation. 

Justice without vengeance

Our criminal justice system is built on the illusion of free will, the belief that people choose to commit crimes and therefore deserve punishment. But if criminal behavior is shaped by biology, trauma and environment, then punishment begins to look not just cruel, but irrational.

Norway understands this. Its government-run prisons are designed for rehabilitation and reintegration, not revenge. The result? One of the lowest re-offense rates in the world. The United States, by contrast, warehouses millions in privately-contracted concrete cells, disproportionately made up of people of color, and labels it justice.

Black Americans are incarcerated at more than four times the rate of white Americans. Low socioeconomic status is closely tied to crime, yet instead of addressing poverty, we moralize it. 

If we actually want reparations and to heal the harm that’s been done, we need to create a system designed to heal. 

If we truly understood behavior as determined, we would stop seeing criminals as monsters and start seeing them as the products of broken institutions. Rehabilitation is not only more humane, it’s more effective.

Our justice system and society at large blame individuals for crimes shaped by systemic forces, creating the illusion of moral action while ignoring the structural roots of the problem.

A more compassionate future

Determinism doesn’t erase morality — it refines it, urging us to replace judgment with understanding, vengeance with prevention and guilt with gratitude. 

When we accept that every act, good or bad, is shaped by countless unseen causes, we gain something more profound than control — empathy.

Rehabilitation is not naive idealism. It’s the logical conclusion of scientific truth and moral clarity.

We’re living in a time when humanity is finally learning the reality that is determinism. Free will was the myth we told ourselves to fill the silence of what we didn’t understand, but science has begun to speak in that silence.