Determinism, in philosophy and science, is the view that each and every event in the universe, including the decisions and actions we humans take, is causally inevitable. Each event can be explained by all events that came before, and more importantly, there is no other possible outcome. Hypothetically, what does that mean for that nifty human trait — free will?

Hard determinism is incompatible with the idea that humans have free will, in contrast to compatibilists who believe that both free will and determinism can coexist. Though I find the evidence toward hard determinism damning, the matter of free will is somewhat irrelevant to us in a practical sense as it is hard to deny that we still have a sense of free will that we exercise every day.

Philosophically, however, the matter of free will is important to me because without it, I find it very difficult to feel proud of my upcoming graduation. 

A hard determinist would look back at everything that has happened in your life, meet you dead in the eye, and tell you that was always how it was going to go. From your worst failings and terrible decisions to your greatest accomplishments, it was all inevitable. Not just because of the moments leading up to the decision, but back to the days leading up, all the way to when you were in your mother’s womb, and even before then, too.  

It’s an extreme version of the notion that everything happens for a reason, only the “reason” is everything that has ever come before. On the one hand, determinism offers an avenue for forgiving oneself for past actions. On the other hand, it fundamentally compromises foundational cultural and ethical systems of belief. Without free will, the impressiveness of grit is nullified. 

Even before I understood determinism as a theory, I felt it in my bones. I recall feeling unable to muster any pride during my high school graduation. Yes, classes were hard sometimes, but I seemed to know this was how it would always be. I have been feeling similarly about my upcoming graduation from USC.

My four years haven’t been a cakewalk, but I also have never doubted that I would make it to graduation. I do feel grateful — I am keenly aware my opportunities are not to be taken for granted — but I can’t help that it has still felt like being on a train headed down a track. I was raised to greatly value academic success, so even at my worst, I never considered giving up on my classes or dropping out; I was always going to get my degree.

At Bacari Silverlake on Easter Sunday, between sips of a strawberry fizz forever cocktail, I discussed my attitude toward graduation with my parents. They protested, but I was stubborn. Nothing they said convinced me until my dad reminded me that, though I was always a confident student, there were many times it seemed I was ready to give up on myself as a person.

I couldn’t argue with him on that, as he has all the evidence to back it up. 

On Aug. 25, 2022, I wrote to him, “Sometimes I just feel hopeless and depressed. It’s an intense feeling. I’m starting to think it’s chemical and there is something wrong with me.” It was the first time that I admitted what I was going through.

I also called him countless times in hopeless desperation, but all the texts and calls only account for the times I actually reached out for help. I still remember all the nights I chose to weather the storm alone.

At that Easter brunch, I became emotional, remembering how lonely I felt, dragging myself from my dorm to eat alone at the dining hall for breakfast, lunch and dinner every day. Even just last year, I had to dredge through an awful fatigue that weighed on every aspect of my life — a pathetic feeling that I had already given it my all at being happy, and since I still wasn’t happy like I thought I would be, it might be time to throw in the towel. But, for whatever reason, I kept going.

Both consciously and unconsciously, I considered giving up many times across these four years, but this graduation is proof that, just as many times, I have fought to stay. Even in a world that might be determined, I am proud — I am grateful for the tenacity fueled by the love and commitment I have for myself, even though I do not always feel it. Holding up my diploma, I will remember how I have always had my own back, and, better yet, the hero who brought me this far is right there with me to face whatever the next chapter of life brings. 

Kevin Gramling is a senior writing about his search for meaning amid the daily chaos of being a USC student. His column, “The (S)existentialist,” runs every other Monday.

Clarification: This article was updated April 29 at 1:00 p.m. to clarify that the author’s parents were concerned about his mental health, not about his academic success.