Johannes Giesinger Free Will and Education It is commonly assumed that to educate means to control or guide a person's acting and development. On the other hand, it is often presupposed that the addressees of education must be seen as being endowed with free will. The question raised in this paper is whether these two assumptions are compatible. It might seem that if the learner is free in her will, she cannot be educated; however, if she is successfully educated, then it is doubtful whether she can be seen as free. Inspired by the current philosophical debate on the compatibility of free will and determinism, this paper spells out two versions of this dilemma. The first version relies on the idea that to be free means being the causal source of one's actions. The second formulation refers to the notion of freedom as the ability to act otherwise than the way one actually acts. The solution to the dilemma that is developed in this paper, however, uses a third concept of free will – to be free means being able to act on reasons. Education is usually seen as a form of heteronomy. What this means can be spelled out in various ways. The intention to educate might be connected with the aim to influence, to guide, to control or determine someone else's behaviour and development. Although educational interferences often go along with constraints on the other person's freedom of action – that is, her freedom to do what she wants – they are ultimately directed at the other's personal traits. We might say that the educator intends to shape the learner's values and beliefs and to mould her self or her will. This raises the question whether education is compatible with the learner's freedom of will.1 First, we might ask whether her will can ever be seen as truly free if it is successfully moulded by education. It seems that what he thinks, what he wants and how he acts can never be truly his, since it is being brought about by education and other factors beyond his control. On the other hand, if we consider the learner as endowed with a free will, then it might seem impossible to educate him at all. Seemingly, if his present and future actions stem from a will that is genuinely free, then they will be independent from any educational influence. Hence, the education of a person endowed with free will appears to be impossible – either we give up the notion of the learner's freedom or we give up the idea that education is possible. The formulation of this dilemma relies on the notion of true or genuine freedom of the will. To speak of true freedom implies that there are [516] weaker notions of free will that might be compatible with education. In the philosophical debate on the compatibility of Johannes Giesinger free will and determinism, it is common to distinguish between strong and weak conceptions of freedom. Among the strong conceptions are those that can be labelled as source libertarian. Their core idea is that we can only see ourselves as free agents, if we are the ultimate (causal) source of our actions. In the first part of this paper, I will examine whether the adoption of this view truly leads us into the dilemma stated above. In this section, my interest will focus on the accounts of Immanuel Kant and Galen Strawson. Kant's view of freedom has been widely discussed in German pedagogy since the early nineteenth century. Johann Friedrich Herbart criticised Kant's transcendental philosophy from an educational point of view saying that the idea of transcendental freedom would leave no room for moral education.2 Kant's view is source libertarian in some sense though it cannot be identified completely with current source libertarian or agent-causalist accounts. The idea of agent-causation, and libertarianism in general, usually relies on an indeterministic picture of nature. In contrast, Kant claims that it is proper to see the natural world as fully determined. Thus, he does not seem to be an incompatibilist who denies the compatibility of free will and determinism; however, his view clearly differs from current compatibilist accounts. Galen Strawson is neither a compatibilist nor a libertarian incompatibilist. Since his main argument does not rely on the notion of determinism, it would be inadequate to call him a hard determinist. Hard determinists are incompatibilists who deny the possibility of free will because they believe in the truth of determinism. Strawson thinks that freedom of will is impossible under both deterministic and indeterministic conditions. Among the defenders of libertarian incompatibilism, there are, roughly speaking, two groups. The first group is source libertarians, who claim that free will is incompatible with determinism, because under deterministic conditions, we could not see ourselves as the real originators of our actions. The second group – call them leeway libertarians3 – puts emphasis on a different point; namely, if determinism were true, there would always be only one course of action open to us. As deliberators, however, we see ourselves as having an open future – i.e., what will happen is not predetermined, but depends on our decision. The idea that two or more paths are open to us is certainly an important aspect of our everyday understanding of freedom. This intuitive notion underlies a second version of the dilemma stated above – how is it possible to educate a person if, as a free being, she can always do other than that which is expected of her? This aspect of the problem will be discussed in the second section of this paper. Being the source of one's actions Galen Strawson,4 like Kant,5 is interested in a notion of free will that can ground the idea of moral responsibility. Both share the view that in order [517] for a person to be morally 2 Free Will and Education responsible for her actions, she has to be ultimately responsible for them. This basic idea is expressed in Kant's concept of transcendental freedom: a person who has this kind of freedom possesses the ability to start a causal chain without being influenced by some other cause. Thus, as a transcendentally free person, she stands outside the realm of natural laws. Kant claims that, as moral actors, we have to presuppose that we own this kind of ultimate freedom. He refuses, however, to prove this theoretically. Instead, his aim is to show that the idea of transcendental freedom is not inconsistent and is, in this sense, possible. Strawson, in contrast, aims to demonstrate the impossibility of the idea of ultimate responsibility. Strawson's basic argument is simple. First, he assumes that each of our actions can be traced back to our self – we act as we act because we are who we are. Second, he states that in order to be ultimately responsible for our actions, we would have to be ultimately responsible for our selves. This however, he says, is impossible. Therefore, Strawson concludes, we cannot be ultimately responsible for our actions. In other words, the concept of ultimate responsibility implies that it is possible to be the cause of oneself (causa sui), at least with respect to one's wants, values or beliefs. But, according to Strawson, it is impossible for a person to be the ultimate cause of her mental states and actions. How is this argument related to the dilemma stated in the introduction? Education is among the factors that mould our self. It is clear that we do not choose or control our educator's actions and thus we are not (ultimately) responsible for our education; however, then we are not responsible for our self or our actions. Since our actions can be traced back to our education (and other factors beyond our control), we do not possess the kind of radical freedom that is – according to Strawson – necessary for moral responsibility. I would like to briefly mention three objections to this view. According to the first, an adult person can be seen as (partially) responsible for her self because she has the opportunity to change her view of the world and her identity. Her reflexive powers enable her to transform her self. She can ask herself whether that which she thinks or wants is right, true, rational or adequate. Also, she can deliberate upon what kind of person she is and wants to be. Thus, she can question her current identity and undertake an effort to change it. In response to this objection, Strawson replies that the possible decision to change our self is itself rooted in our self. Thus, we develop the desire to change simply because we are who we are. According to the second objection, ultimate responsibility in Strawson's sense is not necessary to ground moral responsibility. Again, we could turn to the idea of the reflexive person to specify this objection – as reflexive persons, we have the ability to decide which of our wants and beliefs should count as reasons for our actions. If we are able to act on reasons with which we identify, then we are morally responsible for our actions. According to 3 Johannes Giesinger Strawson, of course, this (compatibilist) account of responsibility that neglects the causal history of our decisions is much too weak. [518] A third objection claims that being ultimately responsible for our actions would not be valuable for us as agents. As persons who exist and develop over time, it is important for us that our actions are connected with our selves; we do not want to act independently of who we are, but in coherence with it. We want to express ourselves through our actions. It would be frightening if the connection between our selves and our actions were to be broken; if this were the case, how then could our actions ever be ours? These objections imply a theory of freedom that can be seen as an alternative to source libertarianism: According to this alternative view, having a free will means to be able to act on reasons one identifies with. Galen Strawson's argument clarifies what is meant by the first horn of our dilemma (in its first version): if we are educated, then we cannot be free. Kant's theory of freedom helps to understand the first as well as the second horn of the dilemma: if we are free, then we cannot be educated. Kant distinguishes the empirical character of the human self from its intelligible character; in other words, he distinguishes the phenomenal from the noumenal self. Since we have been endowed with an empirical character, we are part of the natural world that has to be seen as fully determined by causal laws. In the Critique of Pure Reason, Kant writes: '...all the actions of men in the [field of] appearance are determined in conformity with the order of nature, by their empirical character and by other causes that cooperate with this character; and if we could exhaustively investigate all the appearances of men's wills, there would not be found a single human action which we could not predict with certainty, and recognize as proceeding necessarily from its antecedent conditions.' And he concludes: 'So far, then, as regards this empirical character, there is no freedom' (Kant 1965, A549-50/B577-8). The empirical character of the human being exists and develops in space and time. Its development can certainly be influenced by education. The problem is, however, that this phenomenal self does not possess freedom. Hence, the moulding of the empirical self cannot be seen as the education of a free self, or an education for freedom. It cannot, therefore, be a moral education in the genuine sense, though it might lead the individual to act according to the demands of morality. A genuinely moral action cannot, says Kant, spring from the empirical self. It must have its source in the noumenal self, which is to be situated outside the realm of nature. To be free in a sense that can ground morality means to be able to start a causal chain without being influenced by other causes (ibid., B 582/A554). Thus, if we hold the agent morally responsible for his actions, 4 Free Will and Education then we have to see him as an unmoved mover. According to Kant, this idea can be elucidated only through the concept of a self that is not itself empirical. Kant's view that we are endowed with a self that is not influenced by education raises the question of whether the education of a free self is possible at all. This is the second horn of our dilemma. As becomes clear [519] in many of his writings, especially his pedagogical lectures, Kant is far from denying the possibility of education: 'Kant has a sophisticated and detailed account of moral education that goes well beyond the kind of education a person would receive in the course of ordinary childhood experience', writes Kate Moran (2009, p. 471). His theory of freedom however – or more generally his theory of morality – seems to leave no room for moral education.6 Commentators on Kant's account of free will have, not surprisingly, emphasized the question of how the interplay of the phenomenal and the noumenal self should be imagined – how can the very same action be seen as both fully determined and radically free? Furthermore, how can the noumenal self and its free decisions become effective in the empirical world if this world has to be seen as fully determined? From an educational point of view, the crucial question is: can the moulding of the empirical character have any impact on the intelligible character? There are, roughly speaking, two readings of Kant's theory of the two selves. According to the first, the selves belong to two different worlds and are therefore two selves in the strict sense. According to the second, we should not speak of two different entities but rather of two aspects of one and the same entity.7 Thus, it is not that our self is divided, but that we can see ourselves from two different perspectives: (1) as belonging to the realm of nature or (2) as radically free agents. If we follow the two-worlds interpretation, then there seems to be no space for education. We cannot imagine that the education of one self can influence another self that is radically separated from the first. If we adhere to the two-aspects reading, then we face a similar problem. We might say that the agent, considered as an empirical being, is educable. On the other hand, however, this very same person – as a moral agent – should consider himself as independent from any empirical influence.8 He should not let himself be guided by motivations or measures that he acquired during his upbringing. If the agent can free himself in this way, Kant says, then he is acting in accordance with the categorical imperative. A related difficulty springs from Kant's idea that the noumenal self is in some sense 'timeless', that is, not embedded in the temporal structure of the natural world. The point is that some of the core concepts of educational thought – like development, learning and education – only make sense if the human individual can be considered as changing in time. Herbart (1835/1964, §1-5) uses the concept of Bildsamkeit – that can only imprecisely be 5 Johannes Giesinger translated as educability9 – to formulate his pedagogical critique of Kantian transcendental philosophy. He says that Kant's transcendental subject cannot be conceived as bildsam, that is, as having a moral will that develops from an indefinite into a definite state. Therefore, Herbart states, Kant's concept of the free person is of no use within educational thought. Here, we can distinguish between two problems. First, it should be noted that Kant's account leaves no room for the idea that noumenal selves evolve in time: these selves, it seems, are always already there. The idea that we are born without transcendental freedom and acquire the [520] capacity to initiate our acts in developmental processes does not make sense, within Kant's framework. There can be no development of noumenal selves, and moreover, no development within noumenal selves. The second problem is as follows: Kant explicitly states that nothing happens, and nothing changes within the noumenal self (Kant 1781/1965, B569/A541). Here, we should make the distinction between the initiation of an act and the reasons on which someone acts. The first problem concerns the first of these aspects, whereas the second refers to the development of our reasons. Kant assumes that the transcendentally free person acts on the categorical imperative. Thus, this moral principle provides the reasons for acting. We usually assume that persons develop into agents who act on moral reasons. During their personal history, they learn the reasons they are to act on. But acting in accordance with the categorical imperative, it seems, is nothing that can – or has to – be learned. These are problems specific to Kant's account of freedom. Current versions of source libertarianism avoid the dubious idea of timeless agency. Nevertheless, some libertarian views face similar difficulties. First, they have to explain how the ability to initiate an act can arise within the individual. The second difficulty was already mentioned in the critique of Strawson's account: in claiming that free actions can be radically ours, in the sense that they are ultimately caused by us, the source libertarian view raises the question of how these actions can be ours in a different sense – namely, how can they be related to our personal history, our identity, our reasons? If our actions are detached from the person that we have become during the long processes of learning, then our actions might be ours in the first sense, but not in the second. From an educational point of view, the problem is as follows: to make sense of the idea of education, the free acting of persons must in some way be related to their personal history and education. Our dilemma arises if this connection breaks down. Note, that it does not matter, in this context, how we specify the idea that education is a form of heteronomy – it is irrelevant whether we see the learner as (deterministically) controlled or merely as influenced or guided by education. In all these cases, the educational interference might become effective in the learner's acting. If this happens, however, the learner cannot be considered as free, according to the libertarian view. To 6 Free Will and Education solve our dilemma, then, it would be important to allow that the reasons that we acquired during our upbringing play a role in our present acting.10 This leads us back to the reasons-based view of freedom that was used in the objections to Strawson's account: a person is free if she act on reasons she accepts as valid. This account is further developed in the next section where the second version of our dilemma comes into view. Being capable of doing otherwise As deliberators, we usually presuppose that there is more than one course of action open to us. If our actions were predetermined, then it would not [521] make sense to deliberate which action to perform. Under the conditions of determinism, however, we could never act otherwise than the way in which we actually act. The subjective belief in our ability to act in alternate ways would be illusory, from an objective point of view. If the world we are a part of were fully determined, does this mean that it would be inappropriate to view ourselves as free persons? The adherents of compatibilist accounts of free will reject this conclusion. Many of them defend some version of the reasons-based account of freedom introduced above. The fact of determinism, they claim, would not destroy our ability to act on reasons we endorse. The question is whether a compatibilist account of this kind provides a solution to our dilemma, in its second version. In putting the question this way, we presuppose a deterministic understanding of education. The dilemma might be stated as follows: if the learner possesses the ability to do other than that which is intended by the educator, then he cannot be educationally determined. If, however, he is educationally determined, he cannot be ascribed the ability to do otherwise. Here, it is important how exactly we understand the idea of educational heteronomy. Above, I roughly distinguished weak forms of heteronomy (e.g. influencing or guiding someone) from stronger forms (controlling or determining the other's behaviour and development). The second version of the dilemma relies on a strong form of educational heteronomy. Note that we could develop a similar line of thought using a non-deterministic notion of education. If the learner is always able to act otherwise, then the educator can never be certain about the success of his pedagogical attempts. This is a reformulation of the dilemma's first horn. The second horn loses its relevance if we do not use a deterministic concept of education: education (as based on the intention to guide or influence a learner without controlling him deterministically) does not threaten the learner's ability to act otherwise. 7 Johannes Giesinger In contrast, if he is educationally determined, he can only do what the educator intends him to do. He has only one way to go and is, in this sense, unfree. We might, however, be tempted to deny this last conclusion. According to a compatibilist account of free will, the ability to do otherwise is not constitutive of our freedom. The notion of educational determination implies that it is possible to gain full control over an other person's willing and acting. We might think of some forms of authoritarian indoctrination or brainwashing that attempt to „implant" certain beliefs or motivations in someone else's self. It is uncontroversial, among compatibilists, that a person who is moved by a strong desire that was induced to her by manipulative methods, but that she herself does not identify with, is not free. Consider, by contrast, cases where the learner's identification with certain reasons is brought about („determined") by such methods. Some compatibilists defend the view that this kind of educational determination is indeed compatible with the learner's free will and moral responsibility.11 According to this view, it is unnecessary to take the history of a person's values or beliefs into account – it is irrelevant how these were acquired. [522] This, however, conflicts with wide-spread intuitions: When a child is „made" to accept certain normative attitudes, this appears as a strong form of coercion. In contrast to other sorts of coercion, the coerced person is unaware of being coerced – from her perspective, she does what she really wants to do. But the fact that the educator's manipulative interference does only show itself from a third (or second) person's point of view might lead us to the conclusion that it threatens the child's freedom even more seriously than other forms of heteronomy. Manipulative control – in contrast to other sorts of heteronomy – bypasses the learner's ability to respond to the educational demands. I hold that the ability to reject (or accept) a demand stemming from outside is constitutive of a person's freedom. Hence, when a child lacks this ability, it cannot be said that he is educated as a free person. He then appears as a passive object of a pedagogical treatment, not as a participator in his own educational process. One could object by claiming that children – at least small children – do not have the competency to deliberate adequately. Thus, their refusal or acceptance to do what is pedagogically desired might be unqualified. According to a similar objection, a child's decision to reject a pedagogical demand does not really express her own values or identity, because she does not yet have a stable identity.12 Here, I propose to make the distinction between a concept of basic freedom on the one hand, and fully-fledged rational competency and autonomy on the other hand. Children from the age of two or three are able to act on reasons in a basic way that neither presupposes a fully developed capacity to reason nor a deeply rooted set of values and 8 Free Will and Education beliefs.13 This capability that I call basic freedom is compatible with an uncritical acceptance of pedagogical demands, that is, with learning from an authority. We might distinguish the initial acceptance of a consideration as a reason from a stronger form of identifying with normative commitments. The idea is, then, that reasons that are (initially) accepted by the child are his in a weak sense – they are not (yet) part of his identity. In successful processes of education, those reasons that one is prompted to accept gradually become one's own in a strong sense.14 The reasons-based account of freedom might be contrasted with Niklas Luhmann's view of freedom. In his writings, Luhmann takes up the classical German debate on the compatibility of education and freedom from the standpoint of his sociological version of system theory. Luhmann emphasizes that children – like other mental systems – must be seen as 'self-referential'; that is, they are able to ask themselves how to react to 'input' coming from outside. Therefore, they can react to the same input in different ways on different occasions. They are – in the terminology of machine theory – 'non-trivial' machines, although educators have a tendency, according to Luhmann, to treat them as if they were trivial machines. Trivial machines are easy to guide and control; they react to inputs in a reliable and predictable way. In contrast, non-trivial machines are essentially unreliable. Thus, the capacity for self-reference leads to unreliability. In this context, Luhmann also uses the classical philosophical concepts of self-determination and freedom. He says that non-trivial [523] machines typically react 'in a self-determined and unreliable way. To put it emphatically, one could also say that they react freely' (Luhmann 1985/2004, p. 15). Luhmann accuses 'philosophy' of 're-trivializing' the idea of freedom. His criticism is directed against the view that free persons act by an insight into some kind of necessity – they voluntarily do what they acknowledge as right or necessary (Luhmann 1986/2004, p. 37). This is one way to formulate the basic idea of the reasons-based account of freedom sketched out above. According to this account, the free person has the ability to take the course of action that she considers to be the best (and in this sense necessary) way to proceed.15 A person who is free in this sense is, to some extent, unreliable. It is often difficult to predict what she will do, because she might change her mind after further deliberation. On the other hand, we might be able to figure out what she will do if we know her beliefs and values and understand the situation she is in. Our prediction will then be based on our knowledge of her reasons. In contrast, Luhmann states that we misunderstand the idea of freedom if we connect it with the notion of rational necessity. While he keeps the traditional notion of human reflexivity (self-reference, in the language of system theory), he gives up the ideas of 9 Johannes Giesinger rational deliberation and reasons-based acting. If we do not see the agent as guided by reasons that can be understood by others, then his behaviour becomes indeed unreliable in a strong sense. We should ask, however, whether this kind of radical unreliability should be equated with freedom. In the philosophical debate on free will and determinism, it has become clear that the mere fact of indeterminism does not secure freedom – an undetermined act might as well be a random event. This becomes most evident from the first-person perspective of an agent16: if we, as agents, would consider our own acting as fully unreliable, then this would mean that we would see each of our steps in life as radically arbitrary. We might be said to 'initiate' our acts, but we could never know in advance which act we will actually initiate. Now, we might say that this is a realistic way of looking at things. In some situations, we have in fact no idea how we ourselves or others will react. This, however, is mostly due to the fact that we cannot predict whether we (or others) will lose control; that is, whether we will act otherwise than we actually want. Consider now the way we look at other people's acting in our everyday relationships. Take the example of a teacher who gets angry at one of his pupils because the pupil lied to him. In this case, we might say that the teacher resents the pupil for lying to him. Using Peter Strawson's (1962) influential terminology, we can describe the teacher's resentment as a reactive attitude17 towards the pupil's acting. The teacher's reaction presupposes that the pupil is to be held responsible for what he did. If he were not seen as responsible, then the emotional reaction of resentment would be inadequate. It would then be appropriate to take an objective attitude towards him, as Strawson calls it. In taking this kind of attitude, we do not consider the other as a free and responsible agent and therefore do not see him as blameworthy for his acting. In fact, we blame him no more than we blame a dog for biting us. We might try to control or mould this person's [524] behaviour, but we will not reprove him when he acts wrongly, since we do not expect him to understand that he has done wrong. It might be asked whether it is in fact adequate to consider children as responsible agents. Of course, we do not hold children responsible in the same way that we do adults. But, as Tamar Schapiro (1999, p. 717) points out, 'this is not to say that we do not hold children responsible for their actions in any sense. But the knowledge that an agent is a child rather than an adult often prompts us to modify our "reactive attitudes"'. The fact that we do hold them responsible might be justified by ascribing to them a basic form of freedom – the ability to act on reasons. On the other hand, we might say that our tendency to modify our moral reactions is due to the fact that children are not yet fully autonomous or competent. The insight in children's basic freedom and their lack of fully fledged autonomy is apt to ground our specifically educational attitudes towards them. The teacher who resents his pupil for lying may connect pedagogical intentions with this reaction. He wants 10 Free Will and Education the child to accept the idea that lying is wrong. He hopes that the child will think to have reason not to lie in the future. Thus, in our everyday relationships, we do no see other people as radically unreliable. We consider them to be free and responsible beings and have nevertheless both descriptive and normative expectations towards them, for instance, we expect them to act on moral reasons. Our pedagogical attitudes towards children are of a specific nature – we (normatively) expect them to accept certain considerations as reasons and to act on them voluntarily. According to Luhmann, this account of the educational process tends to re-trivialize children, that is, to see them not as free persons, but as trivial machines. It should be noted that Luhmann's idea of freedom does not exclude the mere possibility of influencing some other person's behaviour. Unlike Kant's noumenal selves, Luhmann's non-trivial machines are capable of development and are open to inputs stemming from their environments. However, the relation between the educational inputs and their effects on the learner must be described as a matter of mere contingency, according to Luhmann. On the other hand, Luhmann thinks that the so-called trivial machines that are not to be seen as selfdetermined can be deterministically directed. Luhmann thus supports the view that freedom is incompatible with deterministic education. The same conclusion can be drawn on the basis of the reasons-based view. But in contrast to Luhmann's account, this view of freedom leaves room for a non-deterministic notion of intentional education. The basic idea is that education is to be described as a specific kind of communication – i.e., a communication of reasons. Pedagogical communication should not, however, be conflated with a rational discourse (in a Habermasian sense). According to the idea of the discursive communication, good reasons have a specific form of power that compels rational persons to accept them. This kind of rational compulsion is certainly compatible with autonomy or freedom – rational argument can only be fully effective in the communication with autonomous beings. [525] Children, it was assumed, are not fully autonomous or rational. Hence, we cannot expect them to be sensitive to good arguments. Nevertheless, offering arguments to children might be a part of the practice of education. But when I define education as a communication of reasons, I do not mean this, in the first place: Consider the teacher who reproves his pupil for lying: This teacher's primary intention is not to convince the pupil – by providing good arguments – that lying is morally wrong. He simply wants the pupil to accept that it is wrong to lie and to act accordingly. As a person endowed with basic freedom, the pupil has the ability to refuse or accept the teacher's normative expectations. Both his refusal and acceptance might be unqualified in the sense that it is not based on 11 Johannes Giesinger good reasons. So, if he accepts that lying is wrong, this might be explained by the fact that he recognises the teacher as an authority. Basic freedom can be seen as an obstacle to education: we cannot rely on children's accepting a consideration as a reason. On the other hand, however, freedom is also a precondition of education. Only free selves can be moulded in this way, since only free persons have the capacity to accept a consideration as a reason. Thus, children's educability is grounded in this capacity. Conclusions As a reaction to both versions of the dilemma described in the introduction, a reasons-based understanding of freedom was developed. The first version of the dilemma arises from a concept of ultimate responsibility that leaves no room for education. According to this view of freedom, an action cannot be seen as free if it is guided by reasons learned throughout one's upbringing. The notion of basic freedom, by contrast, ensures that children can be seen at the same time 1) as educable and 2) as endowed with free will. As was made clear in the second part, the concept of basic freedom is incompatible with pedagogical determination. Therefore, the second version of the dilemma cannot be solved as long as education is understood in a deterministic way. The learner, as a free person, is unreliable in his acting. But as a reason-guided being, he cannot be said to be radically unreliable in Luhmann's sense. He possesses the ability to do otherwise than that which is expected of him, but he is able to act as he thinks adequate, and to learn from others to distinguish adequate from inadequate courses of action. He is educable in the sense that he is open to the pedagogical communication of reasons. Thus, to describe the child as educable does not imply that he has to be conceived as a passive object of educational manipulation. Education can be considered as a tuning of (free) agency18.The problem of an education for autonomy is not how an unfree object can be transformed into an autonomous subject, but how the child's basic freedom can be cultivated to become fullblooded autonomy. 1 It should be noted that the deliberations in this paper are not situated on an ethical level. Thus, my intention is not to clarify whether (certain forms of) educational heteronomy are morally compatible with freedom or autonomy. 2 It is not my aim here to illuminate the historical background of this debate. Moreover, I will not provide a detailed account of Herbart's argument against transcendental philosophy. 12 Free Will and Education 3 Similarly, Derk Pereboom (2001) speaks of leeway incompatibilists – as contrasted to source incompatibilists. 4 Galen Strawson has presented his view in various versions. In what follows, I rely on Strawson (2002). 5 This theory was first outlined in the Critique of Pure Reason and further developed in the Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals and the Critique of Practical Reason. Useful comments on Kant's account of free will are provided by Beck (1960), Allison (1990) and Pereboom (2006). 6 In this paper, Kant's theory of freedom is used to elucidate a substantial problem of educational thought, and it is not my aim to develop a comprehensive account of Kant's theory of moral education. Thus, the question whether Kant's theory of freedom really leaves no room for the possibility of education shall not be answered, here (instead, see Giesinger 2012). 7 An influential account of this kind was proposed by Lewis White Beck (1960), who distinguishes the actor's from the spectator's perspective on human acting. 8 This does not mean, of course, that the moral agent should not take into account the empirical features of the situation that he is acting in. 9 The English version of the text (Herbart 1835/1901) offers two different translations of Bildsamkeit – educability and plasticity. It was Fichte (1796/1960) who first used the term in a philosophical context: According to Fichte, the human being is bildsam in the sense that his acting and development is not fixed by nature. It is often assumed that Fichte's use of the term is influenced by Rousseau's deliberation on the perfectibilité of the human being (see Rousseau 1755/1992). Thus, Bildsamkeit might be translated as perfectibility. 10 Timothy O'Connor's writings can be read as an attempt to provide an agent-causalist account that integrates the reasons-based view (see e.g. O'Connor 2002). 11 This view is defended by Harry Frankfurt (1988). In current debates, it is described as a „structuralist" or „internalist" view – as opposed to „historicist" or „externlist" accounts (see e.g. Zimmermann 2003, Noggle 2005 or Cuypers 2009). 12 Additionally, we have to take into account, of course, that (small) children lack self-control, that is, they might be dominated by impulses that they do not want to act on. 13 It seems clear that newborn babies lack the capacity to act on reasons. This raises the question how this capacity evolves within the first year of the human life. I will not, however, discuss this crucial question, here. As long as the child is not free (in a basic sense), the problem of the compatibility of free will and educational heteronomy does not arise. 14 Stefaan Cuypers (2009; see also Cuypers/Haji 2008) discusses this point in detail: can an adult's attitudes and actions be seen as authentic (that is, his own), if their occurrence was influenced by education? Cuypers claims that it makes no sense to describe children's attitudes as authentic, but he does not deny that attitudes that are brought about educationally might become authentic, later on. He does not, however, provide an elucidation of this process. His argument focusses on cases of inauthenticity, that is, cases in which educational interferences bring about attitudes that are not the (future) adult's own. 13 Johannes Giesinger 15 It should be made clear, however, that this is a rather weak understanding of the notion of rational necessity. Kant assumes that there is an objective 'necessity of reason' that should guide our actions independently of our personal attitudes and desires. Luhmann's attack against the philosophical re-trivialization of freedom is directed against Kant's (or Hegel's) notion of free will in the first place. Luhmann was unfamiliar with recent compatibilist accounts of free will. 16 Luhmann's sociological approach is committed to a third-person (or spectator's) perspective and does not take into account the first-person perspective of the agent. 17 Our reactive attitudes are a part of what Jürgen Habermas lately (2007) called the second-person (or participant's) perspective on human acting, as contrasted to the spectator's perspective. As participants in everyday (I-Thou) relationships, we cannot help seeing the other person's acting as guided by reasons. We could say, then, that Habermas implements the reasons-based understanding of freedom into a broadly Strawsonian picture of moral relationsships. Strawson himself does not explicitly endorse this account of freedom. He refrains from specifying what should be meant by freedom and moral responsibility. However, he is sure not to agree with his son, Galen Strawson, that the everyday practice of blaming others could only be justified by introducing a (source libertarian) notion of ultimate responsibility. 18 I owe this formulation to Michael Luntley (2010). References ALLISON, HENRY E. (1990) Kant's Theory of Freedom (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press). BECK, LEWIS W. (1960) A Commentary on Kant's Critique of Practical Reason (Chicago, Chicago University Press). CUYPERS, STEFAAN E. (2009) Educating for Authenticity: The Paradox of Moral Education Revisited, in: Harvey Siegel (ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Philosophy of Education (Oxford: Oxford University Press), pp. 122144. CUYPERS, STEFAAN E./ HAJI, ISHTIYAQUE (2008) Authenticity-Sensitive Preferentism and Educating for Well-Being and Autonomy, Journal of Philosophy of Education 42.1, pp. 85-106. FICHTE, JOHANN GOTTLIEB (1796/1960) Grundlage des Naturrechts nach Prinzipien der Wissenschaftslehre (Hamburg: Meiner). FRANKFURT; HARRY (1988) The Importance of What We Care About (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press). GIESINGER, JOHANNES (2012) Kant's Account of Moral Education, Educatonal Philosophy and Theory 44.7, pp. 775-786. HABERMAS, JÜRGEN (2007) The Language Game of Responsible Agency and the Problem of Free Will. How can epistemic dualism be reconciled with ontological dualism? Philosophical Explorations 10.1, pp. 13–50. HERBART, JOHANN FRIEDRICH (1835/1964) Umriss pädagogischer Vorlesungen, in: J.F. Herbart, Sämtliche Werke, edited by Karl Kehrbach and Otto Flügel (Aalen, Scientia), Vol. 10. HERBART, JOHANN FREDERICK (1835/1901): Outlines of Pedagogical Doctrine, translated by Alexis F. Lange (London: Macmillian). 14 Free Will and Education KANT, IMMANUEL (1785/1964) Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals [Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten], trans. H.J. Paton (New York: Harper and Row). KANT, IMMANUEL (1788/1956) Critique of Practical Reason [Kritik der praktischen Vernunft], trans. L.W. Beck (Indianapolis, Bobbs-Merrill). KANT, IMMANUEL (1781/1965): Critique of Pure Reason [Kritik der reinen Vernunft], trans. N. Kemp (New York: St. Martin's Press). LUHMANN, NIKLAS (1985/2004) Erziehender Unterricht als Interaktionssystem, in: N. Luhmann, Schriften zur Pädagogik, edited and introduced by Dieter Lenzen (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp), pp. 11–22. LUHMANN, NIKLAS (1986/2004) Codierung und Programmierung: Bildung und Selektion im Erziehungssystem, in: N. Luhmann, Schriften zur Pädagogik, edited and introduced by Dieter Lenzen, (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp), pp. 23–47. LUNTLEY, MICHAEL (2010) What's doing? Activity, Naming andWittgenstein's Response to Augustine, in: A. Ahmed, Wittgenstein's Philosophical Investigations. A Critical Guide (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press), pp. 30-48. MORAN, KATE A. (2009) Can Kant Have an Account of Moral Education? Journal of Philosophy of Education 73.4, pp. 471–84. NOGGLE, ROBERT (2005) Autonomy and the Paradox of Self-Creation: Infinite Regresses, Finite Selves, and the Limits of Authenticity, in: J. S. Taylor (ed.) Personal Autonomy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press), pp. 87108. O'CONNOR, TIMOTHY (2002): Libertarian and Agent-Causal Theories, in: R. Kane (ed.) The Oxford Handbook of Free Will (Oxford: Oxford University Press), pp. 337–55. PEREBOOM, DERK (2001) Living Without Free Will (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press). PEREBOOM, DERK (2006) Kant on Transcendental Freedom, Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 73.3, 537– 67. ROUSSEAU, JEAN-JACQUES. (1755/1992) A Discourse Upon the Origin and the Foundation of the Inequality Among Mankind (Indianapolis: Hackett). SCHAPIRO, TAMAR (1999): What is a Child? Ethics 109.4, pp. 714–38. STRAWSON, GALEN (2002) The Bounds of Freedom, in: R. Kane (ed.) The Oxford Handbook of Free Will (Oxford: Oxford University Press), pp. 441–60. STRAWSON, PETER F. (1962) Freedom and Resentment, Proceedings of the British Academy 48, pp. 1–25. ZIMMERMANN, DAVID (2003) That Was Then, This Is Now: Personal History vs. Psychological Structure in Compatibilist Theories of Autonomous Agency, Nous 37, pp. 638-671. 15 Johannes Giesinger 16 Originally published in: Journal of Philosophy of Education (2010), Number 4, pp. 515-528. The definitive version is available at : http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com Correspondence: Johannes Giesinger St.-Georgen-Strasse 181a CH–9011 St. Gallen giesinger@st.gallen.ch Personal Website: www.erziehungsphilosophie.ch