Essay · Literature & Culture

Macbeth Is Not a Victim of Fate

Why prophecy does not remove moral responsibility

One of the oldest questions surrounding Macbeth is also one of the most misleading: if the witches predict Macbeth’s future, how responsible can he be for making that future happen? The prophecy matters, but it does not function as a command. Shakespeare gives Macbeth enough knowledge to imagine the moral consequences of murder, and enough freedom to hesitate before he chooses it.

The play does not present fate and free will as two cleanly separated forces. Macbeth is influenced by prophecy, encouraged by Lady Macbeth, and repeatedly misled by supernatural language. But influence is not compulsion. The witches create a field of possibility; Macbeth decides how to read that possibility, whether to wait for it, and whether to turn it into a political reality through violence. His downfall is therefore tragic not because he is trapped by a future he cannot escape, but because he helps construct the future he later experiences as unavoidable.

Susan Snyder’s account of the play supports this distinction while adding an important complication. Macbeth understands the moral wrongness of Duncan’s murder before he commits it, and the tragedy follows the psychological hardening that begins when he violates that understanding. Snyder also treats the witches as a problem of suggestion rather than simple control: Banquo hears a prophecy and does not act as Macbeth does (Snyder). The secondary reading therefore strengthens the essay’s central claim without reducing the play to a simple opposition between fate and freedom. Macbeth is influenced, but his repeated interpretations turn influence into action.

The prophecy opens a possibility

The witches’ first greeting is carefully arranged. They call Macbeth “Thane of Glamis,” a title he already holds; “Thane of Cawdor,” a title he does not yet know has been awarded to him; and “king hereafter” (Shakespeare 1.3). The first two titles make the third sound increasingly credible. The prophecy does not arrive as an isolated fantasy. It is attached to a sequence in which one prediction is immediately confirmed.

That structure matters because it gives Macbeth a reason to believe without giving him a set of instructions. The witches do not say that he must murder Duncan. They do not identify a method, a date, or a victim. Their language establishes a possible destination and leaves Macbeth to imagine the route.

Macbeth’s first response shows that he understands the distinction. He does not immediately act. Instead, he asks why he gives “to that suggestion / Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair” (Shakespeare 1.3). The word “suggestion” makes the prophecy a thought placed before him, not a command imposed upon him. His imagination supplies the image of violence before the witches have supplied any explicit connection between kingship and murder.

The prophecy awakens ambition without dictating its use. Macbeth has a mind capable of wanting the crown and of recognizing the terrible means by which he might obtain it. That capacity for recognition is the beginning of responsibility.

There is an important difference between prediction and causation here. The prophecy changes what Macbeth can imagine, but it does not determine the meaning of what he imagines. A future can be presented as possible without becoming morally binding. Macbeth is not obligated to pursue every future that appears available to him. The witches provide the stimulus, but Macbeth provides the inward continuation.

His isolation after the witches disappear is important. Shakespeare gives Macbeth a private interval in which the prophecy can become either a passing wonder or a governing desire. Macbeth chooses the second possibility. He does not merely receive the word “king”; he begins to think about what must happen if the word is to become true.

His language moves quickly from uncertainty to anticipation. He imagines that “present fears / Are less than horrible imaginings” and wonders whether the horrible thought is already beginning to direct him (Shakespeare 1.3). Macbeth’s fear is not only fear of what the witches might do. It is fear of what he himself has begun to imagine. His moral awareness arrives at the same moment as his ambition.

Macbeth knows what the murder means

Macbeth’s own soliloquies make that space visible. Before Duncan’s murder, he understands the arguments against the crime with unusual clarity. He knows Duncan is his guest, his king, and a good ruler. He knows that the murder could produce consequences that return upon him. His imagination does not excuse the act; it demonstrates that he sees what he is about to choose.

When Duncan names Malcolm Prince of Cumberland, Macbeth’s desire becomes more focused. Malcolm is no longer merely part of a distant political order; he is now “a step / On which I must fall down, or else o’erleap” (Shakespeare 1.4). The image is revealing. Macbeth does not describe himself as being pushed toward the crown. He describes an obstacle and imagines two possible responses: submit to it or leap over it.

The language becomes even more explicit in Act 1, scene 7. Macbeth considers the murder as an action whose consequences might return upon its author. “Bloody instructions,” he says, “being taught, return / To plague th’ inventor” (Shakespeare 1.7). He understands that violence is not a neutral instrument. It teaches a political world how to behave, and the lesson may come back against the person who began it.

He also recognizes Duncan’s vulnerability as both king and guest. Duncan has trusted Macbeth’s household; Macbeth has obligations as “his kinsman and his subject” and as “his host” (Shakespeare 1.7). These are not facts Macbeth discovers after the murder. They are the reasons he gives before it. His hesitation is evidence that he understands the moral structure he is preparing to violate.

The strongest objection to Macbeth’s responsibility is therefore also the evidence that supports it. He is not ignorant. He is not acting under a delusion that murder is harmless. He knows the deed is wrong, knows the consequences may be broad, and knows the victim has treated him well. His tragedy is that knowledge fails to govern desire.

This is why the play’s question is not simply whether Macbeth has free will in an abstract philosophical sense. Shakespeare is more interested in the practical experience of choosing while knowing better. Macbeth does not need unlimited freedom in order to be responsible. He needs enough freedom to understand the action, consider alternatives, and proceed despite that understanding. The scene gives him all three.

The stakes extend beyond the immediate act. Macbeth fears “judgment here” and imagines that violent instruction will return to plague its inventor. He understands that the murder will teach a political world how to behave. The irony is that this knowledge remains insufficient: he correctly predicts that violence will return, yet treats the warning as something force might overcome.

Lady Macbeth applies pressure; Macbeth makes the decision

Lady Macbeth accelerates the decision without originating the desire. She attacks Macbeth’s courage because she understands that he is already tempted. Her rhetoric gives him a way to translate ambition into a test of masculinity.

Her most important accusation is that Macbeth’s desire and action do not match. She asks whether he is afraid “to be the same in thine own act and valor / As thou art in desire” (Shakespeare 1.7). The distinction is crucial. Macbeth already desires the result. Lady Macbeth’s task is to make him feel that refusing the murder would expose him as weak or inconsistent.

That manipulation is morally significant, but it does not make Macbeth a passive instrument. He argues with her. He says they will “proceed no further in this business,” citing Duncan’s recent honour and the reputation he has earned (Shakespeare 1.7). He does not merely obey when she answers. He revises his position.

The final movement of the scene makes the decision unmistakable. After Lady Macbeth presents the plan, Macbeth declares, “I am settled” (Shakespeare 1.7). The phrase is brief, but its force lies in the change it records. He has moved from contemplation, through refusal, to commitment. Lady Macbeth has influenced the movement; Macbeth performs it.

To say that Macbeth is responsible is not to say that Lady Macbeth is innocent. It is to refuse a false choice between total individual autonomy and total external control. Shakespeare’s tragedy is interested in the space where persuasion meets desire. Lady Macbeth can exploit Macbeth’s ambition because it is already present. She can challenge his hesitation because he is already considering the crime.

The scene also complicates the idea that Lady Macbeth is simply stronger than her husband. She is more decisive in the immediate crisis, but her decisiveness depends upon a particular interpretation of manhood: a man proves himself by doing what he has imagined. Macbeth accepts that definition at the moment when it serves his ambition. The manipulation succeeds because he wants both the crown and the identity of the person who is bold enough to take it.

This is why reducing the tragedy to “Lady Macbeth made him do it” weakens the play. It treats Macbeth’s desire as empty until someone else fills it. But the text repeatedly gives him language of desire before her intervention. He calls the crown “the ornament of life” when she challenges him, and she answers by exploiting the distance between what he wants and what he is prepared to do (Shakespeare 1.7). Her influence is real precisely because Macbeth has already supplied the substance she manipulates.

Refusing to blame Lady Macbeth would be equally simplistic. The play does not present persuasion as harmless. She uses intimacy, shame, and gendered expectation to make a violent act feel like a test Macbeth must pass. Responsibility can be shared without being identical. Lady Macbeth is responsible for the pressure she applies; Macbeth is responsible for accepting the act and carrying it forward.

After Duncan, Macbeth no longer needs the prophecy

The clearest evidence against fatalism comes after Duncan’s murder. If the witches compel Macbeth, we should expect his later crimes to remain dependent on their instructions. Instead, Macbeth increasingly acts without supernatural prompting.

He arranges Banquo’s murder because he fears the part of the prophecy that concerns Banquo’s descendants. His reasoning is not that the witches have ordered the killing. It is that Banquo’s existence threatens the future Macbeth has purchased. Macbeth describes his crown as something placed upon his head “with an unlineal hand,” and fears that he has stained his mind for Banquo’s line (Shakespeare 3.1). The prophecy supplies the anxiety; Macbeth supplies the assassination.

The change is visible in his relationship with Lady Macbeth. Earlier, he needed her plan. Later, he keeps the murder of Banquo from her because he has begun to operate independently. He tells her to remain innocent of the knowledge until the act is complete. The man who once required persuasion now withholds information while arranging violence on his own.

The attack on Macduff’s family goes further. Macbeth has learned that Macduff has fled to England, and he chooses to punish the family members who cannot threaten him militarily. His decision is not a direct response to a prophecy. It is the behaviour of a ruler whose power has become inseparable from preemptive cruelty. The supernatural may have introduced the idea that Macbeth could be king, but the tyrant who emerges afterward is Macbeth’s own political creation.

At this point, prophecy has become less a cause than a vocabulary. Macbeth uses it to explain his fear, but fear does not dictate the specific actions he takes. He chooses the means by which he will respond. His violence has become self-sustaining.

Macbeth’s independence after Duncan’s murder is more than a plot development. It is a change in the source of his motivation. Before the murder, he needs an external force to move him from thought to action. After the murder, he begins to generate his own reasons. The prophecy remains in the background, but Macbeth now acts to defend an identity and a political order that he has created through crime.

His language to Lady Macbeth makes this transformation explicit. He tells her that he is “in blood / Stepped in so far” that returning would be as difficult as continuing (Shakespeare 3.4). The image describes a man who interprets his previous actions as a reason to commit further actions. Macbeth turns the fact that he has already chosen violence into an argument that he must choose it again.

That argument is psychologically persuasive and morally false. The past can make a new choice harder, but it does not make the choice disappear. Macbeth’s sense of entrapment should be taken seriously as an experience without being accepted as an explanation. Continuing allows him to preserve the fiction that the next act will finally make the previous acts worthwhile. This is the mechanism by which ambition becomes tyranny.

Banquo provides the alternative

Banquo’s presence prevents the play from presenting prophecy as an irresistible force. He hears a promise too: his descendants will be kings. Yet he responds with suspicion rather than immediate action. He warns that “the instruments of darkness tell us truths” in order to win people into “deepest consequence” (Shakespeare 1.3).

Banquo is not perfectly detached. He admits that the prophecy stays with him in dreams, and he later becomes vulnerable to Macbeth’s political violence. But he does not treat the future as a command to manufacture. His caution gives Shakespeare a control case: two men hear the same supernatural language, but only one decides that murder is the proper response.

The contrast does not make Banquo morally flawless or Macbeth uniquely evil. It does establish that prophecy does not erase interpretation. Macbeth hears the witches as confirmation of a desire already forming within him. Banquo hears them as a reason to distrust the desire for certainty. Their different responses reveal character through action.

Banquo’s warning also changes how we should understand the witches themselves. He calls them “instruments of darkness,” identifying them as agents without making them the sole authors of what follows. Their power can be played, directed, or misused. The witches may arrange the conditions of temptation, but Macbeth becomes their interpreter and executor.

The prophecy is dangerous because it is neither wholly false nor fully transparent. The witches tell Macbeth something that appears to come true, and that partial truth gives their later deceptions power. Yet the accuracy of a prediction does not explain the actions taken in response to it. Banquo understands that truth can be arranged as temptation. Macbeth understands this only after he has begun to depend upon the promise.

The difference between them is not that one man believes in the supernatural and the other does not. Both recognize that the witches may possess knowledge. The difference is what they do with uncertainty. Banquo treats uncertainty as a reason for caution; Macbeth treats it as an obstacle to be conquered. Macbeth’s problem is not belief alone. It is impatience.

The tragedy of choosing what feels inevitable

Macbeth eventually speaks as though his path has become unavoidable. That is one of the psychological effects of repeated wrongdoing. Once he has killed Duncan, he must explain the murder as part of a larger necessity. Once he has killed Banquo, he must treat further violence as the price of survival. Each choice narrows the world until the next choice appears to be the only one left.

But a decision can feel inevitable after it has been made without having been inevitable beforehand. This is the distinction Shakespeare asks the audience to preserve. Macbeth’s later sense of entrapment is real, but it does not cancel the earlier moments in which alternatives remained visible.

The later prophecies expose the same pattern in a more extreme form. When the witches tell Macbeth that none of woman born shall harm him and that he will not be defeated until Birnam Wood moves, their words appear to offer certainty. Macbeth receives them as protection, but the predictions are built from equivocation. Their danger lies not only in what they say but in the confidence they encourage him to feel.

The play briefly makes the witches’ intention explicit through Hecate. She describes the apparitions as “artificial sprites” whose “illusion” will draw Macbeth “on to his confusion,” adding that “security / Is mortals’ chiefest enemy” (Shakespeare 3.5). This matters because it prevents the supernatural from being treated as merely neutral or accidentally misleading. By this point, the forces surrounding Macbeth are actively designing his false confidence.

The authorship of this scene is contested by many editors, so it should not carry the whole interpretation of the play. It does, however, sharpen a pattern already established elsewhere: supernatural language becomes most dangerous when Macbeth uses it to suspend judgment.

Yet Hecate’s malice does not absolve Macbeth. Deception can explain why he misreads the promises; it cannot explain why he continues to rely on them after experience has taught him that supernatural language is dangerous. His error is not that he fails to detect every trap. It is that he welcomes any promise that allows him to stop questioning his own power.

Macbeth responds to the apparitions by abandoning caution. He tells himself that he will not fear death until Birnam Wood comes to Dunsinane, and the apparent impossibility of that event becomes permission to continue. The supernatural has not forced him into confidence. It has given him a reason to stop interpreting evidence critically. He chooses the reading that serves the desire already governing him.

When the soldiers later carry branches from Birnam Wood, the prediction becomes true through an action Macbeth could not imagine. The event does not prove that Macbeth was always destined to lose. It reveals the danger of treating language as a guarantee. The witches’ words have become a trap because Macbeth wants them to remove uncertainty.

The same pattern appears in his response to Macduff. Macbeth initially trusts the statement that no man born of woman can harm him. When Macduff explains that he was “from his mother’s womb / Untimely ripped,” Macbeth realizes that the prediction depended on a distinction he had failed to consider (Shakespeare 5.8). The problem is not simply that the witches deceive him. Macbeth has repeatedly chosen the most convenient interpretation of their language.

Responsibility in this play therefore does not mean that Macbeth acts without pressure, fear, or influence. It means that his actions remain his own even within those pressures. Shakespeare’s moral world is not built from isolated individuals who make choices in a vacuum. People persuade one another, inherit political systems, respond to violence, and live inside beliefs they did not create. Agency exists within those conditions rather than outside them. Macbeth is responsible because he participates in the making of the conditions he later claims have trapped him.

The witches predict a crown. Macbeth supplies the ambition, the interpretation, the plan, and the knife. Lady Macbeth helps him cross the threshold, but he crosses it knowingly. Afterward, the supernatural retreats while Macbeth’s own political logic expands. He kills not because fate has removed his agency, but because he has made violence the condition of keeping what violence won.

Macbeth is therefore not a victim of fate in the strongest sense. He is a man who mistakes possibility for permission, then mistakes the consequences of his own decisions for destiny. That mistake is the tragedy’s deepest warning. A future may be suggested to us by prophecy, pressure, history, or desire. None of those forces tells us exactly what we must do. The moral danger begins when we use them to make our choices look like necessities.

Works cited

  1. Shakespeare, William. Macbeth. Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine. Folger Shakespeare Library, n.d.
  2. Snyder, Susan. “A Modern Perspective: Macbeth.” Folger Shakespeare Library, n.d.