The illusion is that we get to choose from an array of desires of varying severity. The truth is that whatever we do choose was in fact what we desired most all along. It’s simply not possible to choose something that you did not desire most. Suppose you did choose to do something that you did not desire most. Then, what you’re claiming to have desired most is not what you desired most. Whatever you ended up doing is what you desired most. The natural question to ask next is whether you have control over your desires. Almost by definition, there is no choice involved in desire. A desire is a desire because you desire it. You did not choose that desire. Thus, we reach the conclusion that the choice is an illusion. We are simply acting in accordance with our desires.
This argument seems to abuse the definition of desire. In fact, it’s almost entirely built on the definition of desire as the feeling of wanting and the quantifiability of these wants. I suppose a possible objection is that wants are not all quantifiable; that wants are not entirely well-ordered. Simply saying that whatever you chose is what you most desired seems intellectually dishonest. It seems feasible to say that we can choose something we desire less through free will without asserting that that thing is what we desired all along.
To say that one desire always quantitatively outweighs another can be a gross oversimplification. It at least feels like there are desires that belong to entirely different categories. There are visceral, immediate desires such as hunger and there are reasoned, abstract values such as that of virtue. The process of choosing between them is not a simple calculation. Rather, it is an act of adjudication. This is where we can possibly locate the faculty of the will. This will is not a bystander; it is the judge. It is the capacity for self-reflection, to step back from the raw input of our first-order desires and to form a second-order desire.
Our choices are undeniably shaped by our biology and history. And it is certainly difficult to draw the line of where environmental influences stop and our will begins. However, reducing choice to a mere revelation of the “strongest desire” feels like a semantic trick that reduces the rich reality of human cognition.
Our understanding of free will is what drives consciousness. It is a necessary framework that allows us to build societies, hold ourselves accountable, and strive to become better people. Suppose that the free will that built this all turned out to be an illusion—that man in fact cannot will what he wills. Is this that problematic? Would all hope be lost? Even if you knew how a certain story would end, could it be meaningful to watch it play out anyways? Perhaps there is meaning in subjective experience. The meaning may not lie in our ability to alter the script, but in how we perform our role. Our capacity for kindness, courage, and integrity could still exist and could have value within this determined narrative. To believe otherwise would be to suggest that the only thing giving our lives meaning is a metaphysical freedom we may not even possess, while ignoring the profound and tangible experiences that define our every moment.