MSI Press Blog

  Free will is one of the most enduring—and elusive—concepts in human thought. It sits at the crossroads of philosophy, neuroscience, theology, and ethics. To ask whether we have free will is to ask: Do we truly choose our path, or are we simply walking one laid out for us? 🔍 What Is Free Will? At its simplest, free will is the ability to make choices that are not predetermined. It implies agency—the power to act according to one’s own volition. But this definition quickly tangles with deeper questions: If our brains are shaped by genetics and environment, where does freedom begin? If God is omniscient, can our choices be truly free? If society constrains us, are we choosing—or reacting? 🧠 The Science of Choice Neuroscience has complicated the picture. Studies show that decisions may be initiated in the brain before we become consciously aware of them. Yet consciousness still plays a role—perhaps not in initiating choice, but in shaping it. Some argue that free will is ...

  From the spiral of galaxies to the symmetry of snowflakes, the universe seems to whisper of intention. The teleological argument , also known as the argument from design, asks a bold question: Is this order accidental—or authored? 🧭 What Is the Teleological Argument? At its core, the teleological argument posits that the complexity, order, and apparent purposefulness of the universe point to an intelligent designer. The term teleology comes from the Greek telos , meaning “end” or “purpose.” Philosophers from Plato to Paley have argued that the universe behaves not like a random collection of matter, but like a system with goals. “Just as a watch implies a watchmaker, the universe implies a designer.” — William Paley 🌠 Examples of Cosmic Design Fine-Tuning of Physical Constants: The gravitational constant, the speed of light, and other parameters are so precisely calibrated that even slight variations would make life impossible. Biological Complexity: The human eye, ...

  What if the mysteries we often shy away from—divine intelligence, free will, the nature of ultimate endings—were less intimidating when approached with humility rather than certainty? Theology can feel like a language etched in stars: beautiful, vast, and difficult to grasp. Yet our yearning to understand isn't arrogance—it’s a quiet act of courage. A way of saying, “I’m listening.” To reflect on divine intelligence is not necessarily to seek a blueprint of how the world works, but to wonder:  Is there meaning in how I’m seen? To wrestle with free will is to inhabit the tension of both agency and surrender, choice and mystery. And to contemplate endings—what many traditions call eschatology—is to gaze toward what might come after with something more sacred than fear: hope. These are not questions meant only for scholars or sages. They belong to anyone who has held grief, wondered about purpose, or felt the ache of the infinite brushing against an ordinary moment. You don’t h...