Can Compatibilism Save Free-Will?

I used to live next to a small duck pond. Sometimes I would stroll around the pond and see if I could get a duck to eat a piece of bread out of my hand. Usually, one of them would timidly walk up to my hand and snatch the bread. The duck performed an action. Back at the college where I work, a colleague down the hall would sometimes offer me a chocolate candy. He would offer it up and I would timidly walk up and take it. I performed an action.

Is there any difference between my action and the duck’s? Most would say that the duck acted out of instinct and I acted out of free-will. Despite my sweet tooth, I freely chose to eat the chocolate. According to many philosophers, my action was free because I could have acted otherwise. This is what it means for an action to be free. I could have chosen differently, if, say, I was trying to cut my sugar intake. The duck didn’t really have a choice since it was driven by nature. The duck lacks free-will. Indeed, one of the things that makes people special and distinguishes us from all — or most — other animals is that we have free-will. At least that’s what it seems.

The belief in free-will is so ingrained that it’s difficult to imagine how we could get by without it.