Only the Servant of God Is Free: 2. Defining Concepts: Freedom and Liberty (Column 127)

With God’s help

To explain the meaning of liberty in a world of commitment to Jewish law, I will begin by defining two concepts, freedom and liberty. Let me say at the outset that I do not mean to offer a dictionary definition here, so do not catch me if Even-Shoshan does not define them this way. My intention here is only to define two concepts and distinguish between them, and the names (the linguistic terms) freedom and liberty are given to them solely for the purposes of our discussion here, so that we can refer to them conveniently. As far as I am concerned, you can call them Moshe and Berel, or Issa and John.

What is freedom?

The simple definition of the concept of freedom is the absence of constraints. I think this is even lexically correct, but as stated that is not really important to me. Of course I do not mean a concrete state, since no human being is exempt from all constraints. None of us can fly, memorize the entire Hebrew Bible in an hour, dive without equipment for two hours, and probably we also cannot solve the problem of quantum gravity (which remains an open problem in contemporary physics). The definition of freedom is the definition of an axis or a scale: the more constraints are imposed on you, the less free you are, and vice versa. If we compare two human beings in two states, then if Reuven is subject to X constraints and Shimon is subject to Y constraints, then if X<Y Shimon is less free than Reuven.

For our purposes, constraints are anything not under a person’s control and decision. Anything imposed upon him by some factor. This may be another person, the environment, society, the laws of physics and nature generally, and also his own nature. Even my personal nature is a constraint in this sense.[1] I am of course assuming here a libertarian view, that is, a view according to which a person has free will and the ability to act freely, meaning that the circumstances (= the constraints) do not dictate his actions and thoughts (though they do influence them). From the perspective of the determinist, who denies free choice and believes that the circumstances (internal and external) determine everything, it is impossible to define any state of freedom in this sense. On his view every person is constrained absolutely, since his actions and thoughts are dictated by the constraints and by them alone.

Is freedom a value?

Today it is customary to treat freedom as a value, and sometimes it seems that in our culture it is a supreme value. I mean a value in the human and moral sense (not an economic value). But on second thought this is a very puzzling view. Freedom is a certain state, usually a very pleasant one, since in that state no constraints are imposed on me. Partial freedom is a state in which I am subject to a certain number of constraints (the more there are, the less freedom there is). Still, even partial freedom is a state, and therefore it is hard to see this as a value. It is reasonable to regard as a value a mode of conduct or a certain kind of action. But a state is something morally neutral. It does not depend on me and my actions; rather, it is a framework imposed on me and independent of me (below I will speak about attaining freedom, that is, about my influence on the degree of freedom in which I find myself). I see no logic in treating it as a value.

It seems to me that one of the reasons for this confusion is the insight that unjustified deprivation of freedom is an immoral act. If I put someone in prison (without justification), or tie his hands, or simply do not let him move or do something (forcibly confined him to a room — locking him in a room; see Bava Kamma 85b), I have done something immoral. Seemingly, it follows from this that the opposite — being in a state of freedom — is something moral. But this is a logically mistaken inversion. This is easy to see by way of an example. I assume we would agree that being rich (having a great deal of money) is not a value. It may enable me to do good things (and bad ones as well), but the value lies in the good things I do with my money. Mere possession of money is a morally neutral state (though of course a pleasant one). And yet, taking someone’s money unjustly (by stealing, robbing, or harming him) is an immoral act. We therefore learn that although money is an asset and not a value, taking it without justification is an immoral act. This example sharpens the point that freedom too is really an asset. It is a state I want, and if I am in it, it is my right to remain so. Someone who deprives me of freedom takes something valuable from me (steals my freedom), and therefore performs an immoral act.

The conclusion is that freedom, like money, is an asset and not a value, and yet taking it away is an immoral act. On further reflection, this turns out not to be merely an analogy. Money is part of a person’s freedom. A rich person can do more things than a poor person. He is less constrained and therefore freer. Thus money and freedom are not merely analogous states, but really one and the same thing. Freedom is worth money to me, and as we have seen, it is equally true to say that money gives me additional freedom.

One should not infer from this that there is anything bad about a state of freedom. On the contrary, freedom is a pleasant state, and it is only natural to aspire to it, just as it is natural to aspire to wealth. But it is not a value. As for the aspiration to freedom — see below.

The concept of freedom: an interim summary

We have seen that freedom is defined as the absence of constraints (more precisely: the degree of freedom stands in inverse proportion to the number of constraints). We also saw that depriving a person of freedom is an immoral act. And we further saw that being free is an asset and not a value (more precisely: being freer is essentially a matter of possessing more nonmaterial assets, and possessing economic assets gives us more freedom).

What is liberty?

We now move to the other side of the equation: liberty. For the purposes of our discussion here, I define liberty as autonomous action within constraints. Given a certain quantity and type of constraints, a person’s degree of liberty expresses the extent to which he does not allow those constraints to dictate his path, practically and intellectually. A person who determines his own course, even when he is under constraints, is an autonomous person.

Here too we are not dealing with a binary situation (either a person has liberty or he does not), but with a continuum of states. The more constraints a person is under, the more he can express his degree of liberty. Thus, for example, Viktor Frankl, in the first part of his book Man’s Search for Meaning, describes people who were in a concentration camp and nonetheless did not surrender to the harsh circumstances, but acted in deeply admirable ways. They did not allow the harsh and highly constraining circumstances in which they were immersed to dictate their behavior. This does not mean that they could do everything. On the contrary, this is a state with a very small degree of freedom, and therefore the room for maneuver within it is quite limited. But despite this — and perhaps precisely because of it — whatever a person nonetheless does against those constraints (in coping with them) testifies to a higher degree of liberty. A person in a concentration camp who denies himself a slice of bread and gives it to another person who needs it more than he does displays far more liberty than a rich person in a free country who gives a million shekels to charity. The degree of liberty is measured relative to a given system of constraints. The more you are the one who decides your thoughts and actions, the more liberty you have. But we also saw that the more the system of constraints presses, the more you can bring your liberty to expression. That does not mean, of course, that everyone who is in a system of crushing constraints (a concentration camp) thereby has liberty, but only that in such a system there is greater potential to express my liberty. The degree of liberty in my actual conduct depends on me and on my decisions, not on the circumstances. At most, they allow it to come to expression, but of course they do not determine it.

Another example is the physicist who has just passed away, Stephen Hawking. Hawking was completely paralyzed, and for many years could move only his eyelids. Within that impossible system of constraints, he thought, wrote books, researched, and created, and brought his talent to expression (not inconsiderable, although he also said quite a bit of nonsense). Other people in such a state would have withdrawn into their illness and done nothing beyond that. Hawking expressed an extraordinarily impressive degree of liberty. A similar and no less impressive example is the supervisor Rahamim Melamed Cohen, who since 1999 has suffered from severe ALS, and for some twenty years now he too has been unable to move anything except his eyelids, and yet he has not stopped acting, creating, and writing huge numbers of books, mainly in the fields of education and child care, where he expressed deeply moving humanistic insights (above all in the fact that, despite his difficult condition, his gaze is always directed outward rather than inward toward himself).

A comparative look: freedom versus liberty

To make the comparison between the two concepts, let us ask regarding liberty all the questions discussed above regarding freedom. First, the very definition of liberty sets it in direct opposition to freedom. If freedom is the absence of constraints, liberty does not exist without constraints (it is defined as a type of action within constraints). Moreover, the more constraints there are (that is, the less freedom there is), the greater the potential for liberty.

Liberty is of course a value and not an asset, and in that sense too it is the opposite of freedom. The reason is that liberty is not a state but a mode of action and conduct. It is not a state in which a person finds himself (like the constraints, which do not depend on him), but rather what he chooses to do within the constraints. Does he take the reins into his own hands, or does he allow the constraints to dictate his path? We value a person who acts with liberty, because his essence as a human being is his capacity to make decisions and formulate positions on his own, and not to surrender all of these to environmental influence and to the pressures and constraints under which he lives. A person who lives in an intellectually and/or practically pressuring society is less free, but precisely because of that he can express his liberty with greater sharpness and force. One can even say that liberty is a supreme value, since only a person who chooses his own path and his ethical outlook for himself can be considered someone who acts on the basis of values — that is, a value-guided person. A person whose path is dictated by circumstances is not value-guided, even if he acts in a good and perfect way. He resembles an animal that behaves according to its nature, and even if that nature is wonderful, it should not be seen as a creature of values (see Column 124).

The third question is the deprivation of liberty. Is depriving someone of liberty an immoral act? The answer is, of course, that there is no such thing. At most, a person can deprive another person of freedom, but the decision what to do with the given degree of freedom is entrusted only to the person himself. Other people have no control over the degree of liberty I possess, only over the degree of freedom I possess. They can impose more and more constraints on me, but the decision whether to act within them with liberty is mine alone.[2] So in this sense too, liberty is the opposite of freedom.

By way of a side remark, I would note that in many cases the imposition of many constraints de facto robs a person of liberty. It paralyzes him and causes him to give up his autonomy and hand himself over to circumstances (a slave mentality). But according to the definition I have proposed here, this is not an accurate description. A person endowed with a certain degree of liberty will express it within progressively smaller levels of freedom, until he reaches a degree of freedom with which his liberty can no longer cope. The degree of his liberty determines how hard the constraints can press upon him without paralyzing him. Therefore, in the final analysis, only he decides the degree of his liberty; indeed, even the decision to stop acting with liberty below a certain level of freedom is entrusted to him. He can make the effort and act with liberty even there.[3]

The concept of liberty: interim summary and comparison

Liberty is defined only within constraints, and this stands in contrast to freedom (which is the absence of constraints). Where there are no constraints (absolute freedom), there is no liberty. In addition, we have seen that liberty is a value and not an asset, whereas freedom is an asset. Finally, we saw that depriving someone of freedom is an immoral act, whereas depriving someone of liberty is not possible at all. In all these parameters, liberty is completely the opposite of freedom.

To conclude the conceptual section, I will just repeat that freedom and liberty are often used in many places with the same meaning, and the definitions here were made only for the purpose of our discussion. When rendered into English, it seems to me that in many cases (though not always) liberty as defined here is liberty, whereas freedom is freedom.

The analogy of democratic elections

In Column 72 I already mentioned my favorite analogy of democratic elections, but for the sake of completeness I will repeat it here. One can imagine four patterns of voting:

• The elections in North Korea. A person enters the polling station and freely chooses the only ballot slip lying there and drops it into the ballot box. When the votes are counted, the one who won the majority is appointed president of North Korea. This is, of course, illusory freedom. In reality this is complete determinism, even if the person does not feel that anyone is forcing him to do anything — the circumstances do it. The result is dictated entirely by them. Therefore this is a situation in which the circumstances dictate the result, that is, there is here neither freedom nor liberty.
• The elections in Switzerland. A person enters the polling station and freely chooses one of several different ballot slips lying there. Each person drops his choice into the ballot box, and whoever won the majority of votes is appointed president of Switzerland. Apparently democracy at its finest, except that in (metaphorical) Switzerland there are no problems with which to contend. In a situation with no such problems, democracy and freedom of choice have no meaning whatsoever. There is no right and wrong here, there are no costs to the different choices, and therefore such freedom has no value. By the same token, one could just as well hold a lottery, since in any case it does not matter who will be president of Switzerland. If there is infinite money and no security dangers and no economic or social distress, the identity of the president changes nothing at all. The situation will remain perfect under whatever president there may be. This state of affairs teaches us that the free and autonomous choice that indeed exists in Switzerland loses its value if it is not made within a framework (problems and constraints) that is imposed on us and does not depend on us. The framework gives meaning to freedom of choice and to our decisions. The Swiss election model expresses freedom: free choice without constraints and pressures. As stated, in complete freedom there is no meaning to liberty.
• The elections in England. A person enters the polling station and freely chooses one of several different ballot slips lying there. Whoever won the majority vote is chosen to be British prime minister. Britain faces quite a few problems, and therefore freedom of choice has meaning there. Problems too have meaning only when the people decide in a sovereign and free way how to deal with them. The costs do not depend on them, but the decision how to cope with the situation is theirs. Democracy in such a model is analogous to liberty, since freedom of choice expresses the path by which we choose to conduct ourselves within the constraints.

Just for the sake of completeness I will add a fourth model:

• The elections in Israel. A person enters the polling station and freely decides on some candidate from among several possible ones, drops the ballot into the box, and the majority determines who will be prime minister. Israel too has a number of problems to solve, so in that sense it resembles England and not Switzerland. Seemingly, democracy at its finest. But here there is a different problem: all the candidates who are elected behave in exactly the same way (“what one sees from there, one does not see from here”), so here too it does not really matter whom we chose. The perceptive reader surely understands that in such a model as well there is not much value to freedom, and in fact this is a variation on the North Korean model. As in Switzerland, here too there will be the same result whichever path we choose, and therefore once again there is no meaning to our free decisions.[4] Admittedly, this is another version of a similar determinism, though somewhat different from the North Korean one. In North Korea the regime determines the circumstances that determine what will happen, whereas in Israel the external circumstances (the circumstances and the constraints) determine what the government will do, regardless of who it is and what its ideology is.

This analogy demonstrates well why the framework within which a person acts, which does not depend on him, is precisely what gives meaning to his conduct as an autonomous agent. Without a given framework, he may be free, but he is not a person of liberty. As stated, freedom is a state and not a mode of conduct, and therefore it has no value dimension. Liberty, which of course is a value, cannot appear at all in a state without constraints (freedom).

[1] At the beginning of my book The Science of Freedom, I discussed two common mistakes: one sees only external constraints as constraints, whereas my character is my very self and not a constraint. This is an approach that sees no contradiction between determinism and free will (and is called compatibilism). The second sees only internal circumstances as constraints, whereas external circumstances are not such constraints (this refers to those who speak about the brain’s plasticity as an expression of freedom). Both are mistakes, and I explained the matter there in detail, so I will not return to it here.

[2] People can of course hypnotize me or knock me unconscious, or even kill me, and as is well known, among the dead one is free (“among the dead one is free”). But from my point of view, such a situation is a kind of death. As long as a person is alive and acting, however narrow the space within which he acts, only he decides whether to have liberty or not.

[3] And if not, then once again we have returned to a state of unconsciousness or death. The circumstances dictate my conduct against my will. I have no ability to decide, and therefore it is impossible to measure my degree of liberty here. This is like a state of irresistible impulse, in which the circumstances force themselves upon the person and his conduct is no longer entrusted to him (it is beyond his powers to decide nonetheless to cope with them).

[4] A friend once told me about a friend of his who backpacked through Burma (today’s Myanmar). He came to a middle-of-nowhere village and, to his surprise, saw a post office there. When he approached, he saw to his amazement that on the wall there was an admirably orderly system of mailboxes divided by continents and countries, like something out of an old comedy sketch. When he came still closer and went up to the counter, he suddenly saw the other side of the wall with the mailboxes. Then, to his great amusement, it turned out that behind all the mailboxes there was one large sack into which all the letters from all the boxes emptied. That is precisely Israeli democracy (the fourth model).