free won’t: using your prefrontal cortex veto

Do we truly make our own choices—or are we just playing out a script written by causes beyond our control?

This question, as old as philosophy itself, has taken on new dimensions in modern neuroscience. The tension between fate and free will isn’t just theoretical; it shapes how we think about responsibility, change, and personal growth. Let’s dig into this by looking at ancient philosophy, modern science, and practical ways to live more deliberately—regardless of the ultimate answer.

Fate, Determinism, and the Web of Causes

At its core, determinism is the belief that every event has a cause—and that cause has a cause—and so on, forming an unbroken chain of events stretching back to the beginning of time.

If you toss a rock into a pond, the ripples aren’t random. They unfold in a precise, lawful way. Determinists argue that human decisions, feelings, and even thoughts are just more complex ripples in this chain of causality.

The Stoic philosophers of ancient Greece and Rome embraced this idea. They believed the universe runs according to the Logos—a rational order or cosmic intelligence. Everything happens for a reason, even if we don’t understand it.

But they didn’t stop there.

A Narrow but Powerful Kind of Freedom

While Stoics accepted a deterministic cosmos, they also introduced the idea of prohairesis, or moral will—the uniquely human ability to choose how to respond to circumstances. You may not control the weather, but you choose whether to complain about the rain or carry an umbrella.

A helpful analogy: life is like a video game. You don’t design the world or set the rules. But you still control the joystick. Your choices matter within the structure—even if you’re not outside of it.

Neuroscience and the Case Against Free Will

Fast forward to the 1980s. Neuroscientist Benjamin Libet ran experiments asking subjects to move their wrists whenever they felt like it. He discovered something surprising: electrical activity in the brain—what he called “readiness potential”—began before the subject reported deciding to move.

Later studies using fMRI pushed this even further. Researchers could predict which button a person would press up to seven to ten seconds before the person was consciously aware of making the decision. The implication? Your brain may decide before “you” do.

That’s unnerving. If our actions are initiated unconsciously, are we really the ones making the call?

“Free Won’t”: The Power to Veto

But Libet also noticed something fascinating. Even if the brain began preparing to act, people could veto the action at the last moment. That’s where the idea of free won’t comes in.

You may not control the first impulse—but you can stop yourself from acting on it. Think of this like being the editor, not the author. You can’t stop every idea from coming up, but you choose which ones make it to print.

This dovetails neatly with the Stoic view: the initial impressions that strike your mind aren’t under your control. But your response—what you endorse, believe, or act on—is.

Simple vs. Complex Decisions

Critics of Libet’s experiments point out that flexing your wrist isn’t the same as choosing a career or ending a relationship. Real-life decisions involve values, reflection, emotion, and long-term thinking. You don’t choose to start a business the same way you choose to blink.

So even if some decisions begin unconsciously, that doesn’t mean all decisions do. The more complex the choice, the more space there seems to be for reflection and conscious agency.

So Who’s Responsible?

Here’s where things get practical. If our actions are caused by prior events—our biology, environment, upbringing—does that let us off the hook?

Many would say no. Responsibility isn’t about being a god outside of cause and effect. It’s about being a conscious participant within it. You may not choose your first thought, but you can choose your second.

This is where personal ethics comes in. Responsibility grows from awareness. From reflection. From the ability to pause and choose a better action.

Free Will as a Skill

Even if you believe in some form of determinism, it’s still useful to think of free will as a skill—something you can train and improve.

Here’s a simple daily practice for cultivating that skill:

1. Morning Mental Rehearsal

Spend 2–5 minutes imagining the challenges you might face today. Visualize your best response. This is based on the Stoic practice of premeditatio malorum, or “pre-meditation of evils.”

2. Midday Pause

When a strong emotion or impulse hits, pause. Count to three. Ask: Is this helpful? Is it necessary? Is it kind?

3. Veto Training

Practice saying no to automatic reactions. Don’t send the angry text. Don’t open the extra tab. Don’t quit the project because it’s hard. Saying “no” builds veto strength.

4. Evening Reflection

Before bed, ask yourself:

• When did I act on impulse today?

• When did I pause and choose better?

• What can I improve tomorrow?

Over time, this process rewires your habits. You begin to respond instead of react. You build a kind of freedom that operates within constraints—much like a musician improvising within a key.

Conclusion: You Are Not the center of the Universe—But You Are a Part of It

Whether or not free will exists in the ultimate sense may never be answered. But perhaps that’s not the point. What matters is the kind of freedom that’s useful—the kind you can practice.

You may not control the chain of fate. But you can strengthen your link. You can choose your response. You can shape your character.

In a world where so much is out of our hands, that’s a powerful kind of freedom.