Don't Believe in Yourself

Originally posted in May 2013. Click here for a printer-friendly version of this article.

Artwork: Flux, by Richard Kane Ferguson

Don't Believe in Yourself

In Avos 2:4 we are taught in the name of Hillel: "אַל תַּאֲמֵן בְּעַצְמָךְ עַד יוֹם מוֹתָךְ" which means: "Don't believe in yourself until the day of your death." In order to understand this statement, we must answer three basic questions: 

1. What does Hillel mean by "don't believe in yourself"? "Believe in yourself" in regards to what? Practically speaking, what is he instructing us not to do?
   
2. What does "until the day of your death" add? Hillel could have simply said, "Never believe in yourself" or he could have said "Don't believe in yourself" and it would have been understood that this advice applies for the duration of our lives. What is gained by incorporating "until the day of your death" into his formulation?
   
3. Why shouldn't we believe in ourselves until the day of our death? Why should I listen to Hillel's advice? What are the consequences of ignoring his admonition? 

Rashi doesn't directly explain what Hillel means. Instead, he provides an example:

Don’t believe in yourself until the day of your death – for Yochanan, the Kohen Gadol, served as the Kohen Gadol for 80 years, but ultimately became a Tzeduki (a heretical sect of Jews who lived during the time of the second Beis ha'Mikdash).

How does this clarify our understanding of Hillel's statement? How is Yochanan becoming a Tzeduki an example of failing to heed Hillel's warning?

The answers to these questions emerge from a careful reading of Hillel's statement. According to Rashi, Hillel meant exactly what he said. "אַל תַּאֲמֵן בְּעַצְמָךְ" means: do not believe in the existence of a "true self" - a permanent, immutable essence which constitutes who you "really" are. 

In truth, there is no unchanging and authentic "core" of your being. Who you are is in a constant state of flux. You will become whatever kind of person you choose to become, or whatever you allow yourself to become.

This idea is part and parcel of the fundamental principle of bechirah (free will). In Hilchos Teshuvah 5:2 the Rambam writes:

Each and every person is fit to be a tzadik (righteous person) like Moshe Rabbeinu or a rasha (wicked person) like Yeravam, or wise, or foolish, or merciful, or cruel, or stingy, or generous, and likewise with all other qualities.

If a person feels that his virtuous qualities - such as righteousness, wisdom, mercy, and generosity - are an intrinsic part of "who he is," then he is mistaken. Likewise, if a person believes that he cannot become a rasha like Yeravam, then he is operating under a false idea of what it means to have bechirah.

Rashi brings down the example of Yochanan to illustrate this point. Yochanan served as the Kohen Gadol - the paragon of kedushah (holiness) and avodas Hashem (service of God) - for 80 years. If you asked an average Jew on the street whether Yochanan could ever become a heretic, you would receive a resounding, "Of course not! What are you, crazy?" And yet, at the end of his life, Yochanan became a Tzeduki. This doesn't necessarily imply that his former righteousness was a façade, but it certainly refutes the notion that commitment to Toras Moshe was an unalterable part of his very being.

Rashi's example is meant to trigger a certain realization in ourselves. If Yochanan - a tzadik of the highest caliber, who served in the kodesh ha'kodashim (Holy of Holies) for 80 years - could transform into a total apikores (heretic), in spite of his superb track record, kal va'chomer people such as ourselves! 

And yet, we manage to convince ourselves otherwise without any hesitation. "I'm not the type of person who would violate Shabbos!" "I wouldn't take revenge; that's just not me." "I would never cheat on my spouse! What kind of a person do you think I am?" All of these types of self-assurances fall into Hillel's category of "believing in oneself."

Hillel's principle supports a notion I've entertained for quite some time. To my mind, it is more accurate to think of oneself not as a human being, but as a human becoming. We humans are never frozen in a permanent state of being. We are always in flux - a state of continual becoming.

We are now in a position to answer all three of the questions we asked on the mishnah.

1. What does Hillel mean by "don't believe in yourself"? He takes this statement literally: do not believe in the existence of an incorruptible "true self." His use of the verb תַּאֲמֵן is quite appropriate. The root א.מ.נ. means "firm" and "permanent," as in, "וַיְהִי יָדָיו אֱמוּנָה עַד בֹּא הַשָּׁמֶשׁ" - "And his hands were firm until sunrise" (Shemos 17:12) and "הַאֲמִינוּ בַּה' אֱלֹהֵיכֶם וְתֵאָמֵנוּ" - "Have firm conviction in Hashem, your God, and you will be strengthened" (II Divrei ha'Yamim 20:20, as translated by Radak in Sefer ha'Shorashim א.מ.נ.). 
   
2. What does "until the day of your death" add? The reason why he says, "until the day of your death" is because that is when the process of human becoming ends. Only at that point is it possible to look back and know for certain what we truly were. This is the appropriate place for the concept of a "true self." Your "true self" is what you made of yourself with the entirety of your life.
   
3. Why shouldn't we believe in ourselves until the day of our death? It is never wise to take absolute security in anything, and the self is no exception. If I believe that I am immune to corruption, then there is a good chance that I will let down my guard to the agents of change. I might suddenly fall victim to a danger which I was unprepared to face. I might gradually change over time until I have become a different person without even realizing it. I might even rationalize a self-destructive change by faking myself into believing that the change stems from "my true self." In any event, feelings of invulnerability render one vulnerable to the enemy, and in this battle, the stakes are as high as can be. 

One final point to consider: Hillel's statement also applies in the opposite direction. Just because a person has lived as a rasha or a chotei (sinner) for many years does not mean that his way of life reflects his "true self," nor does it mean that change is impossible. As the Rambam wrote: "Each and every person is fit to be a tzadik like Moshe Rabbeinu or a rasha like Yeravam" - the potential for change runs both ways. Perhaps this is what R' Shimon meant when he said: "do not be wicked in your own eyes" (Avos 2:13). 

At the end of the day, remember: it's not over until the end of the day.

Rational Conviction in "Far-fetched" Prophecies

In the wake of the Charleston church shooting on June 17th, 2015, the media has been abuzz with talk about the so-called "Confederate Battle Flag." In the days to follow, large retailers began removing products from their inventory which featured the flag. Wal-Mart, Amazon, Sears, and eBay all announced policy-changes whereby the sale of Confederate Flag merchandise would be discontinued. 

Naturally, there was an uproar from both ends of the political spectrum. Some applauded these bans as a sign of "progress" and "justice." Others felt that they were overreactions - or worse yet, infringements on the American freedom of expression. 

Amid all of this Confederate Flag fracas, I came across an amusing photo of a comment made to Wal-Mart's Facebook page:

I found this to be quite funny. Grassroots over-the-top satire at its finest. 

But it got me thinking: What about all of the (seemingly) far-fetched prophecies in Tanach? To an outsider, these sound just as ridiculous as the aforementioned example. Consider the following prophetic predictions, and imagine what a skeptic might say:

• "When you beget children and grandchildren and will have been long in the Land, you will grow corrupt and make a carved image, a likeness of anything, and you will do evil in the eyes of Hashem, your God, to anger Him. I appoint heaven and earth this day to bear witness against you that you will surely perish quickly from the Land to which you are crossing the Jordan to possess; you shall not have lengthy days upon it, for you will be destroyed. Hashem will scatter you among the peoples, and you will be left few in number among the nations where Hashem will lead you. There you will serve gods, the handiwork of man, of wood and stone, which do not see, and do not hear, and do not eat, and do not smell" (Devarim 4:25).
  
  
  "Really? All of that is going to happen just because I make a nice little statue to display in my foyer? You really think that my innocent little artistic gesture will lead to mass exile for my offspring and the persecution of my people at the hands of our enemies?"
  
  
• "Do not become contaminated through any of these [illicit sexual practices]; for through all of these the nations that I expel before you became contaminated. The land became contaminated and I recalled its iniquity upon it; and the land disgorged its inhabitants. But you shall safeguard My decrees and My judgments, and not commit any of these abominations - the native or the proselyte who lives among you. For the inhabitants of the land who are before you committed all these abominations, and the land became contaminated. Let not the land disgorge you for having contaminated it, as it disgorged the nation that was before you" (Vayikra 18:27-28).
  
  
  "Really? REALLY?! So the Gay Pride Parade in Tel Aviv will lead to the downfall of the State of Israel? A man who sleeps with his own wife while she's a niddah will bring about yet another mass exile for the Jewish people? C'MON!"
  
  
• "If despite this you will not heed Me, and you behave toward Me with casualness, I will behave toward you with a fury of casualness; I will chastise you, even I, seven ways for your sins. You will eat the flesh of your sons; and the flesh of your daughters will you eat. I will destroy your lofty buildings and decimate your sun-idols, I will cast your carcasses upon the carcasses of your idols, and My Spirit will reject you. I will lay your cities in ruin and I will make your sanctuaries desolate; I will not savor your satisfying aromas. I will make the land desolate; and your foes who dwell upon it will be desolate. And you, I will scatter among the nations, I will unsheathe the sword after you; your land will be desolate and your cities will be a ruin" (ibid. 26:27-33).
  
  
  "Cannibalism? INTER-GENERATIONAL cannibalism, no less? You're telling me that if I don't keep halacha, then I'm going to end up devouring my own progeny, and my country will become a desolate wasteland?"

These are but a few examples of drastic prophecies from the Torah itself, but just flip through the writings of the Neviim and you encounter dozens - if not hundreds - of predictions which sound just as extreme in their dire warnings.

Now, if you are working with a model of hashgachah pratis by which God will cause these things to happen through direct intervention in the laws of nature, then these prophecies aren't problematic in the slightest. God will simply intervene as much as needed to bring about these results. However, if you are working with a model of hashgachah pratis by which this type of divine punishment is meted out by God withdrawing His hashgachah and allowing nature to take its course (a.k.a. "hester panim"), then it becomes even more difficult to differentiate one set of catastrophic predictions from another without suppressing the rational faculty. 

This brings us to our central question. We, as Jews, believe that the Torah's cataclysmic prophecies ARE different than the facetious prediction made by the Facebook commenter above - and yet, many of them strain our credulity just the same. Is there a basis on which we can differentiate between fallacious slippery slope predictions and genuine prophecies without suspending our disbelief? 

To be clear: I am not looking for a way to tell the difference between prophecy and non-prophecy. That we already have, thanks to Torah mi'Sinai, and the halachos of prophecy (see the Rambam's Hilchos Yesodei ha'Torah Chapter 7 and Chapter 8). Rather, I am looking for a means by which we can have a genuine rational conviction in true prophecies, without any stretching of the mind, without double-standards of belief, and (to be frank) without coming off like crazy religious fanatics. 

Artwork: False Prophet, by Eric Peterson

I believe that the answer is: yes! The answer lies in the recognition of three truths: (1) the law of unintended consequences is real, (2) history is often stranger than fiction, and (3) God's knowledge is different from human knowledge. Allow me to explain what I mean. 

The Wikipedia article on "unintended consequences" states: 

In the social sciences, unintended consequences (sometimes unanticipated consequences, unforeseen consequences, or accidents) are outcomes that are not the ones foreseen and intended by a purposeful action.

Here are a few diverse examples from the past 100 years of American history:

• Prohibition: The nation-wide ban of alcohol in the United States during the 1920's gave rise to Organized Crime, which has been responsible for innumerable deaths, injustices, and the spread of lawlessness throughout the country. 
  
  
• The Pill: The invention of oral contraceptives had huge ripple effects: it altered the public view of sex, it led to a shift in gender roles and acted as a catalyst for gender equality, in led to a rise in premarital sex - along with all of its unintended consequences (e.g. increase in out-of-wedlock pregnancies, STD, sexual violence, etc.) - and it undoubtedly shook up the prevailing views of marriage, the family structure, and the dynamics of population growth. 
  
  
• Passenger-side Airbags: In 1991 a federal law was introduced which mandated the installation of passenger-side airbags in automobiles, which led to an increase in deaths of children who couldn't withstand the force of the airbag, which encouraged the practice of having kids sit in the back seat, which led to an increase in the deaths of children who were forgotten in the car.
  
  
• "Charlie Wilson's War": In the 1980's, billions of dollars of aid was delivered to the Afghan Mujahideen - a move which ultimately gave rise to Al-Qaeda and the Taliban, which resulted in the 3,000 deaths in the September 11 attacks, plus the thousands of other deaths in the "War on Terror" which ensued. 

If, at the time of these events, a person confidently predicted that these specific consequences would happen, imagine how his predictions would be mocked and ridiculed: 

• "Banning alcohol will cause American cities to become filled with murder, theft, and crime?"
  
  
• "Stopping unwanted pregnancies will bring pestilence upon the land, destroy families, and possibly culminate in the election of a female president?" 
  
  
• "Making cars safer will lead to a nationwide uptick in infanticide?!"
  
  
• "Arming a bunch of rebels in the middle of nowhere will result in a terrorist attack of epic proportions on U.S. soil, which will lead to over a decade of new wars and mass casualties?" 

Indeed, such a doomsayer's confident predictions would be worthy of ridicule, even if he ended up being correct. There are SO many factors which might have affected how each of these scenarios played out that it would be foolish for any person to hold such strong convictions about any possible outcome. Historical hindsight is 20-20, but historical foresight is hopelessly myopic.

This is where God enters the picture. While human beings lack the knowledge to be able to definitively predict the long-reaching ripple effects of any event or societal change, God is Omniscient, and His knowledge is not limited like ours. For this reason, He can state with absolute certainty what will happen.

It is at this point that the skeptics would point their fingers and paint me as a religious fanatic for invoking divine omniscience. I can see them rolling their eyes and saying in a sardonic tone, "Oh, yeah, sure, well if GOD says it can happen then it can DEFINITELY happen! Such a SOPHISTICATED answer which puts to rest ALL doubt."

No, that is not what I am saying at all. I am not saying, "The Lawd said it's going to happen, and the LAAWWWWD knows what He knows!" That would not answer the question that this blog post sets out to answer. Listen very closely while I state my argument in four sentences:

• It is not far-fetched to believe that such strange unintended consequences CAN happen, for we see that they DO happen; rather, it is only problematic for a human being, with limited knowledge, to PREDICT such dire and dramatic consequences on the basis of our extremely shortsighted speculation.
  
• The only thing a person would need in order to have a rational conviction in such predictions is a credible source.
  
• Prophecy is a credible source, insofar as its authority stems from Torah mi'Sinai.
  
• Thus, one who is convinced of the veracity of Torah mi'Sinai should have no trouble accepting the veracity of prophetic predictions, without any need to stretch one's credulity - no matter how implausible these predictions may sound.

I am not claiming that we will be able to see how the fulfillment of these prophecies will come about. I am merely claiming that we should have no problem believing that they can come about. For example, we, with our limited knowledge, might not be able to see how laxity in mitzvos will lead to filial cannibalism, but we know that such things DO happen, and that they can come about as a ripple effect of a complex concatenation of events. Thus, when the Torah says, "you will eat the flesh of your sons; and the flesh of your daughters will you eat," we should have no trouble accepting the truth of this statement, without engaging in any mental gymnastics. Just as we can read about instances of unintended consequences in the past and accept them without hesitation, so too, we ought to be able to look at prophetic statements about future "unintended consequences" and accept them fully. 

I believe that having this awareness in mind while learning the writings of the Neviim will help make their prophecies more real to our minds. By remembering the law of unintended consequences, the stranger-than-fiction character of history, and the omniscience of the God Who communicated to these prophets, we can relate to the predictions of the Neviim as though we are reading prospective history book, and not a work of fiction. 

Parashas Chukas: The Reason for Parah Adumah

Originally posted in July 2013.

Parashas Chukas: The Reason for Parah Adumah

Parashas Chukas begins with the mysterious mitzvah of the parah adumah (red heifer). We are commanded to sacrifice and burn a parah adumah so that its ash should be available for anyone who needs to be purified from tumas meis (halachic impurity resulting from coming in contact with a corpse). This parah must meet a highly specific list of requirements in order to be eligible for the mitzvah. For example: it must be completely red; it must be tamim (“perfect”) without any physical blemishes; it must be purchased using communal funds – not the general "Sanctuary maintenance" funds; and it must never have borne a yoke on its neck or performed any labor. [1] The aim of this short dvar Torah is to explain one of the basic reasons for the parah adumah.

To this one might object: “How is that even possible? I was taught that nobody knows the reason for the parah adumah – not even Shlomo ha’Melech!” This is partially correct, but not entirely. It is true that Shlomo ha’Melech understood the reasons for all 613 mitzvos except for the parah adumah, as was taught in the Midrash Tanchumah. [2] However, that very same midrash teaches: “The Holy One, blessed is He, told Moshe: ‘To you I will reveal the reason for the parah, but not to others.’” [3] Upon reflection, this makes sense: Moshe Rabbeinu was on the highest level of knowledge, and was taught the entire Torah by Hashem. Of course he understood the reasons for all of the mitzvos!

Not only that, but the same midrash goes on to state that the hidden reasons for all of the mitzvos, including parah adumah, were understood by R’ Akiva and his colleagues. Although the midrash appears to contradict itself, one thing is clear: the reason for the parah adumah may be difficult to grasp, but it can be understood, and has been, by a number of chachamim.

But wait – there’s more! Rashi, himself, provides an explanation for parah adumah in his Chumash commentary, and that is what we will focus on here. Rashi begins by explaining why this korban must be a female, whereas all other communal korbanos are male:

This can be compared to the son of a maidservant who soiled the king’s palace. They said, “Let this mother come and clean up the mess!” Similarly, let the parah come and atone for the [Golden] Calf. [4]

This is the crux of Rashi’s approach: the parah adumah was designed as a kaparah (atonement) for the Cheit ha’Eigel (Sin of the Golden Calf). Rashi then goes on to explain each requirement of the parah adumah in accordance with this theory.

The color red represents sin, as it is stated, “If [your sins] have become as red as crimson, they will become [white] as wool.” [5] The physical perfection of the parah is an allusion to Bnei Yisrael, who were “perfect” until they became “blemished” by the Cheit ha’Eigel. The requirement to purchase the parah from communal funds parallels the fact that Bnei Yisrael donated their own jewelry to make the Eigel. The requirement that the parah must never have borne a yoke alludes to the fact that Bnei Yisrael cast off the Ole Shamayim (Yoke of Heaven) when they worshiped the Eigel. Rashi goes on to explain all of the other requirements of the parah adumah in this manner.

We have only scratched the surface of understanding the reasons behind parah adumah according to Rashi’s theory. However, what is (perhaps) more important than Rashi’s particular ideas is his overall approach to chukim. In spite of our tradition that only a few individuals throughout history understood the reason for parah adumah, Rashi nevertheless analyzed the subject with his own mind. By analyzing the major structural components of the mitzvah as taught in Torah she’baal Peh (the Oral Torah), and drawing upon his knowledge of clues in Torah she’bi’Chsav (the Written Torah), Rashi was able to arrive at his own theory about the intended purpose of this enigmatic mitzvah.

Rashi’s approach to the parah adumah may serve as a model for how we approach all chukim. The Rambam writes: “Even though all of the chukim of the Torah are decrees … it is proper to think into them and to provide reasons for them wherever you are able to do so.” [6] If we seek to understand the chukim of our Torah, we must analyze them with our own minds through the lenses of Torah she’bi’Chsav and Torah she’baal Peh, guided by the Talmudic traditions of Chazal – just as Rashi, Rebbi Akiva, and Shlomo ha’Melech did.

May we all merit to discover reasons for all of the chukim, so that we may reap the full benefits intended by the One Who commanded them!

[1] Sefer Bamidbar 19:1-22

[2] Tanchumah: Chukas 6; Bamidbar Rabbah 19:3; Koheles Rabbah 7:23; Psikta d’Rav Kahana 4.

[3] Tanchumah: Chukas 8; Bamidbar Rabbah 19:6; Psikta d’Rav Kahanah ibid.

[4] Rabbeinu Shlomo Yitzchaki (Rashi), Commentary on Sefer Bamidbar 19:22; the midrashim which are the basis for Rashi’s explanation can be found in the Midrash Aggadah and Tanchuma 8, as well as in Bamidbar Rabbah 19:8.

[5] Sefer Yeshayahu 1:18

[6] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha’Korbanos, Hilchot Temurah 4:14

Adler: On Animal Speech and Animal Intelligence

In my recent post, Do Babies Have Souls? (Ibn Ezra), I presented the Ibn Ezra's idea that man's soul (i.e. his ability to think rationally) and his ability to speak are correlated; as one develops, so does the other. A friend of mine asked me whether the Ibn Ezra was referring specifically to the ability to speak, or to the ability to communicate? When I answered that it was the latter, he asked me about animals that can communicate (e.g. monkeys who have been taught sign language). 

I thought that this might be a good time to (re)post three excerpts from the writings of Mortimer J. Adler, in which he addresses the differences between animal speech and human speech, as well as animal thought and human thought. These excerpts were originally published as two separate blog posts in June and August of 2007.

Artwork: Connection, by Yuumei

The Difference of Man and the Difference it Makes (1967, 1993)

Chapter 9: The Pivotal Issue: Language and Thought, p.136-138

The second critical point made by these contemporary philosophers, and by such scientists as Crichtley and White, turns on their making a sharp distinction between perceptual and conceptual thought. This distinction is implicit in the observation that animal thinking is confined to the perceptual present, whereas human thinking transcends the immediate environment and extends not only to objects in the remote past and the remote future but also to objects that have no temporal locus whatsoever. Precisely because they are incapable of conceptual thought, animals, these writers contend, are not only (1) incapable of sentence-making that includes statements about the past and future, (2) unable to fabricate tools for remote future use, (3) devoid of a cumulative cultural inheritance that constitutes a long historical tradition, but they are also (4) incapable of any behavior that is not rooted in the perceptually apprehended present situation.

Animals can certainly think, in the sense of learning from experience, generalizing, discriminating, and abstracting, solving problems by trial and error or by insight, and even, as Price, following Hume, points out, making inductive inferences from empirically learned cues or signals. The evidence is both plain and ample that they can think in all these ways. But it is equally plain from the observations of their behavior, in the laboratory or in the field, that they cannot think in any of the following ways: they cannot think about objects that are not perceptually present as well as about those that are; and with regard to objects of thought, present or absent, they cannot make judgments or engage in reasoning (i.e., think that such and such is or is not the case, or think that if such and such is the case, then so and so is not) ...

Bennett argues that animal learning and problem-solving, whether by trial and error or by insight, does not involve any of the steps that constitute human reasoning from experience - the process whereby human beings either establish an empirical conclusion or refute one. Since that always involves the separate acknowledgment of a timeless universal, on the one hand, and of particular instances of past occurrence, on the other, animals, whose apprehensions are limited to the immediate perceptual present, cannot possibly engage in the kind of thinking that consists in giving reasons pro and con. And, Bennet further contends, behavior that involves giving or receiving reasons cannot be causally explained by reference to empirical sequences. In his view, there can be no behavioristic account of human rational behavior, as there can be of animal learning and problem-solving, in terms of causal connections between stimuli and responses or by reference to the causes at work in the formation of the conditioned responses or the imprintings that represent the modifications of animal behavior through repeated experience ...

Ten Philosophical Mistakes (1985)

Chapter 2: The Intellect and the Senses, p.50-53

Since Darwin’s day, experimentation with animals in psychological laboratories has turned up much additional evidence that has been regarded as reinforcing this conclusion [namely, that man differs from animal only in degree, not in kind]. It has been interpreted as showing that other animals have concepts as well as percepts, even if they do not have intellects in the traditional sense of that term. Accompanying this attribution of conceptual intelligence to other animals has been the attribution to them of linguistic performances that are said to differ only in degree from the human use of language.

... I will concentrate here on the misinterpretation of the evidence that is supposed to show that other animals have concepts that enable them to deal with generalities as well as particulars.

To put the matter briefly, the experimental evidence does show that other animals, under laboratory conditions, can learn to discriminate between different kinds of perceived objects. They learn to react in one way to squares and in another to circles, for example; or to eat what is placed on a green surface and to avoid what is placed on a red surface. Such discriminations indicate that they are able to generalize, and this is made the basis for attributing concepts as well as percepts to them.

The error here consists in thinking that to be able to discriminate between different kinds of objects is tantamount to being able to understand distinct kinds and their differences. To regard an animal’s ability to discriminate between perceived similarities and dissimilarities as evidence of conceptual thought on the animal’s part involves an equivocal use of the word “concept.”

Strictly used, concepts are (a) acquired dispositions to recognize perceived objects as being of this kind or of that kind, and at the same time (b) to understand what this kind or that kind of object is like, and consequently (c) to perceive a number of perceived particulars as being the same in kind and to discriminate between them and other sensible particulars that are different in kind.

In addition, concepts are acquired dispositions to understand what certain kinds of objects are like both (a) when the objects, though perceptible, are not actually perceived, and (b) also when they are not perceptible at all, as is the case with all the conceptual constructs we employ in physics, mathematics, and metaphysics.

There is no empirical evidence whatsoever that concepts, thus precisely defined, are present in animal behavior. Their intelligence is entirely sensory. Its operations are limited to the world of perceptual objects and imaginable ones. What lies beyond perception and imagination is totally beyond the powers of the animal mind or intelligence. Only animals with intellects, only members of the human species, have the conceptual powers that enable them to deal with the unperceived, the imperceptible, and the unimaginable ...

Chapter 3: Words and Meanings (Section 6)

In their study of the evidence of animal communication, [animal psychologists and behavioral scientists] seldom if ever note the difference between signs that function merely as signals and signs that function as designators – as names that refer to objects. Almost all of the cries, sounds, gestures, that animals in the wild, and domesticated animals as well, use to express their emotions and desires, serve as signals, not as designators. It is only in the laboratory and under experimental conditions, often with very ingeniously contrived special apparatus, that such higher mammals as chimpanzees and bottle-nosed dolphins appear to be communicating by using words as if they were names, and even to be making sentences by putting them together with some vestige of syntax.

The appearance is then misinterpreted by the scientists as a basis for asserting that the only difference between animal and human language is one of degree, not of kind – a difference in the number of name words in an animal’s vocabulary and difference in the complexity of the utterances that are taken to be sentences.

This misinterpretation arises from the neglect or ignorance, on the part of the scientists, of the difference between perceptual and conceptual thought. That, in turn, stems from their failure to acknowledge the difference between the senses and the intellect or their denial that the difference exists ... 

While there is evidence that chimpanzees under experimental conditions do use artificially contrived signs to designate or name things, the things they name are all perceptual objects. There is not a single piece of evidence showing their ability to use signs to designate what is not perceived through their senses or what lies totally beyond the sensible realm and is intrinsically imperceptible ...

The animal’s behavior manifests different reactions to objects that are different in kind. But the kinds of things that animals appear to differentiate are all kinds of which there are perceptual instances in the animal’s experience. Humans differentiate kinds or classes of which there either are no perceptual instances in their experience or of which there cannot be any. This is the distinguishing characteristic of conceptual thought and the irrefutable evidence of the presence of intellect in man and of its absence in brutes.

One further observation, if it were made by the animal psychologists, might open their eyes to the difference in kind, not degree, between human language and the acquirement by animals of signs that appear to function as designative names. It involves the distinction, already made, between a word acquiring its designative meaning through direct perceptual acquaintance with the object named and the acquirement of meaning by means of a verbal description, as when a child learns the meaning of the word “kindergarten” by being told that it is a place where children get together to play and learn.

In all the experimental work done on animals, there is no instance where a sign that an animal uses gets is meaning from a collocation of other signs that purport to express its meaning. In every case, a new sign that is introduced into the animal’s vocabulary becomes meaningful through being attached to a perceptual object with which the animal has direct acquaintance.

If the students of animal behavior had engaged in their observations and experiments with a recognition of the difference between perceptual and conceptual thought, and with an acknowledgment that humans have intellect as well as senses, whereas animals lack intellects, they would not be so prone to ignore or deny the difference in kind between the human and animal use of signs as names or designators.

Mishlei 18:23 - The Supplications of the Poor and the Brazenness of the Rich

משלי יח:כג

תַּחֲנוּנִים יְדַבֶּר רָשׁ וְעָשִׁיר יַעֲנֶה עַזּוֹת:

Mishlei 18:23
A poor man speaks [with] supplications, and a rich man responds with brazenness.

Major Questions / Difficulties

1. Why does the first half of the pasuk have to tell us that a poor man will speak with supplication? Isn't this obvious? What is the chidush (new insight)?
2. What, exactly, does the pasuk mean by "responds with brazenness"? 
3. Why does the rich man respond with brazenness? 
4. What scenario is the pasuk talking about? Mishlei usually compares two individuals' decisions in the same decision-making scenario. If that is the case here, what is that scenario? Or is this pasuk describing an interaction between the poor man and the rich man - as it would seem from the use of the word "responds"?
5. Which consequences/benefits is Mishlei pointing out here? Remember that Mishlei is a book about how to make good decisions and avoid bad ones. This pasuk doesn't spell out the ramifications of the decisions being made here. 
6. To whom is this pasuk addressed? Is it giving advice to the poor man about how to speak to the rich man? Is the pasuk rebuking the rich man for how he treats the poor? 
7. What is the subject of this pasuk?

Four Sentence Summary of the Main Idea (According to Rabbeinu Yonah)

When performing a cost/benefit analysis of wealth and poverty, it is easy to focus exclusively on the financial dimension and lose sight of the fact that wealth and poverty have a detrimental effect on a person's middos (character traits) as well. Poverty often spawns detrimental middos, such as subservience (since he is dependent on them for his livelihood), fear of people (insofar as he feels that his fate is in their hands), flattery (since he constantly needs to beg for money), and other degenerate qualities. Likewise, the rich man becomes brazen, arrogant, harsh in his speech, wise in his own eyes, stubborn, and all of the other negative traits which arise from an inflated ego. For this reason, the wise man will pray: "give me neither poverty nor wealth, but provide me with my daily allotment of bread" (Mishlei 30:8) - not only because this makes sense in its own right, but because he is concerned about the harmful ethical effects of wealth and poverty on his character.  

Four Sentence Summary of the Main Idea (According to Us)

A poor man thinks that the best way to ask a rich man for money is to supplicate, in order to awaken the rich man’s mercy and arouse his pity. This is a mistake which will likely backfire: pity stems from identification with the other person, and if the poor man makes himself seem too wretched and needy, the rich man will be repelled, for it he will find it too painful, frightening, and abhorrent to see himself in the poor man’s shoes, and all hope of empathy will be lost. On the other hand, if the poor man is too assertive and demanding, he is sure to tread on the rich man’s ego, and once that happens, there is no way that the rich man will want to help him. The key is to strike a perfect balance: to cater to the rich man’s ego by making him feel like a proud and powerful benefactor, while being careful not to make himself seem too pitiful or too bold – both of which would pose a threat to the rich man’s ego.

Do Babies Have Souls? (Ibn Ezra)

I must preface this post with a disclaimer: I don't understand what a "soul" is. Years ago I used to think I understood the Torah's view on the concept of "soul," but the more I learned, the more I realized the breadth and depth of the topic, and of my own ignorance and metaphysical naiveté. 

Here is what I do know:

1. The word "soul" is used equivocally. It can mean different things in different contexts. Although there are different words for "soul" (e.g. nefesh, ruach, neshamah), even these terms aren't necessarily consistent in their usage, and each must be interpreted based on its context. 
   
   
2. The human soul has something to do with the tzelem Elokim, which has something to do with the human intellect, but I am at a loss to explain how these three things are related.
   
   
3. There is also some relationship between the human soul and free will, and I find free will to be an even more daunting topic than the soul.
   
   
4. There is a lot of machlokes on this topic among the meforshim, and it is very difficult to discern which of the meforshim are working with the same premises and which of them are working with a completely different set of premises.

And that's about it. Beyond these four points, I feel that I am still "groping in darkness and not in light ... staggering like a drunkard" (cf. Iyov 12:24-25) on this topic. 

Thus, I have decided to take the same approach with this subject as I did with Sefer Mishlei: rather than trying to form grand theories and a complete understanding of the topic, I will instead approach the topic step by step, one idea at a time. If I (am zocheh to) do this for a number of decades, perhaps a clearer picture will begin to emerge. 

Having said all of that, I would like to present one idea about the soul from the Ibn Ezra. Please regard this as merely a clue in our investigation of the vast mystery story of the soul.

Do Babies Have Souls? (Ibn Ezra)

That's the question. How would you answer it on a multiple choice quiz with these choices?

          (A) yes
          (B) no
          (C) maybe
          (D) potentially

Let's cut right to the chase. According to the Ibn Ezra, the answer is (D) potentially. Or, to be more precise, babies have potential souls - not actual souls.

The Ibn Ezra states his view in his commentary on Tehilim 8:3. Here is the perek in its entirety:

(1) For the conductor, on the gittis, a psalm by David. (2) Hashem, our Master, how mighty is Your Name throughout the earth, [You] Who places Your majesty on the heavens. (3) Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings You have established strength, because of Your enemies, to silence foe and avenger. (4) When I behold Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, the moon and the stars that You have set in place, [I think,] (5) "What is frail man that You should remember him, and the son of mortal man that You should be mindful of him?" (6) Yet, You have made him but slightly less than the angels, and crowned him with glory and splendor. (7) You give him dominion over Your handiwork, You placed everything under his feet: (8) sheep and cattle, all of them, even the beasts of the field; (9) the birds of the sky and the fish of the sea; for [man] even traverses the lanes of the sea. (10) Hashem, our Master, how mighty is Your Name throughout the earth!

The question on our pasuk is: How is Hashem's strength established through "the mouths of babes and sucklings"? What does this even mean? 

Ibn Ezra begins by quoting the explanation of R' Moshe ha'Darshan, who learns that the pasuk is referring to the literal mouths of the babies, through which they obtain nourishment:

R' Moshe says that out of the mouth of babes means that the babes themselves will praise You even though they cannot speak, for You sustain them. You make them fruitful and You multiply and increase their body’s height and width.

Rabbi H. Norman Strickman, in his footnotes on the Ibn Ezra's commentary, understands R' Moshe ha'Darshan as follows: "The way children grow bears witness to the existence of a Creator. Thus the babes, as it were, declare that there is a God." 

However, the Ibn Ezra disagrees with this approach, and states his own view:

However, in my opinion Scripture reads, “out of the mouth of babes” because man is the most glorious being created in this world. “Out of the mouth of babes” refers to the time that a child first begins to speak. Its meaning is that the power of the rational soul first appears in the body when the child begins to speak. The rational soul develops to the point where it can learn of the power of its Creator by logical thinking. Indeed the soul grows in strength day by day. This is the meaning of, “has Thou founded strength.”

A baby is born with only the potential for rational thinking, which is what the Ibn Ezra means when he speaks of a "soul." This potential is first actualized when the child begins to speak, and continues to develop from that point forward. In this manner, the child builds and cultivates his own soul, which ultimately brings him to recognize his Creator.

The Ibn Ezra's interpretation is in line with Targum Onkelos's translation of the statement, "[God] blew into [man's] nostrils the breath of life, and man became a nefesh chayah (living soul)" (Bereishis 2:7) as "and man became a ruach memalela (speaking spirit)." The human soul and the ability to speak are inextricably linked, and as one develops, so does the other.

And that, my friends, is all I've got for today. Just one piece of the puzzle of the soul. I don't know where this idea fits into the grand scheme of things. I don't know what bearing it has on such topics as the immortality of the soul, the incorporeality of the soul, Olam ha'Ba (the World to Come), reward and punishment, the relationship between mind and body, etc. etc. etc. Those questions must be left for another time.

This morning I came across a passage in the Sefer ha'Chinuch that made me smile. After expressing great apprehension at the prospect of writing about the mitzvah of Parah Adumah (Red Heifer), the Sefer ha'Chinuch offers a few speculations. Immediately thereafter, he apologizes for his boldness, and downplays what he just wrote, saying:

This is not a clarification to provide any comprehension whatsoever of the matter. It is only the love of holiness and the eagerness to achieve a knowledge of the hidden that moves the quill to write.

That sentiment resonated with me while writing this post. Remember, friends: this blog is nothing more and nothing less than a venue for me to think out loud, and to discuss ideas with others who are interested. If you are looking for certainty, expertise, and "authoritative knowledge," then I would be happy to refer you to other resources. 

Some Musings on Achdus (Jewish Unity)

Originally posted in July 2013

Some Musings on Achdus (Jewish Unity)

The term "achdus" (Jewish unity) often comes up in discussions about social and political issues concerning the Jewish community. This concept is often invoked with unspoken qualifiers, such as "absolute achdus" or "unconditional achdus" or "achdus irrespective of our differences." Such calls for achdus are often bolstered with statements such as "kol Yisrael areivim zeh la'zeh" ("Every Jew is responsible for one another") and "ve'ahavta l'reiecha kamocha" ("You shall love your fellow [Jew] as yourself"). Some go so far as to hurl accusations of sinas chinam (baseless hatred) at anyone whose views are perceived as a threat to this achdus.

There is a simple truth which could stand to be reiterated from time to time: there is good achdus and bad achdus. In order to achieve the former, we must be able to understand, identify, and avoid the latter. That is the topic of this blog post.

We can examine this distinction from many different angles, but in this post we will focus on the statement of Hillel in Avos 2:4: "Al tifrosh min ha'tzibur" ("Do not separate from the community"). The Rishonim take a number of different approaches on this mishnah. I will now present excerpts from the commentaries of three Rishonim. As you read through their explanations, see if you can spot the common denominator. 

We will begin with the commentary of Rabbeinu Yonah:

When the community is involved with a mitzvah, this a crown for the Life of Worlds and an honor for His entire dominion, for when the multitude of the nation gathers to fulfill His mitzvos, it is a "glory for the King" (Mishlei 14:28), and it isn't right to separate from them, as it is stated, "He became King over Yeshurun when the numbers of the nation gathered - the tribes of Israel in unity" (Devarim 33:5). 

All of this applies to when the congregation is following a good path and is gathered to do mitzvos. But when the congregation turns to a bad path and their actions are corrupt, it is not right to join with them, and one who separates from them is praiseworthy. Concerning this, Yirmiyahu ha'Navi said: "If only someone would give me a travelers' lodge in the wilderness, then I would forsake my people and leave them, for they are all adulterers, a band of traitors" (Yirmiyahu 9:1). 

Next, the Meiri:

There are those who explain "do not separate from the community" in reference to their customs (i.e. a person shouldn't deviate from the customs of the community). This isn't a valid interpretation, for if [their customs] are good, then the same would apply even to an individual (i.e. one shouldn't deviate from the good customs of even a single person), but if they are bad, it is proper to rebuke them and to guide him on the straight path - that is, if he is worthy [to rebuke them]. But if he is not worthy [to rebuke them] or if they don't listen to him, then it is definitely proper to separate from them, and even to distance oneself from them exceedingly, in order to be saved from their companionship - even if he is their relative or close friend, as it was stated, "Go for yourself, from your land and from your birthplace" (Bereishis 12:1). And if he doesn't do this, he should be fearful for his soul, lest he perish on account of the sin of the city (cf. Bereishis 19:15). 

Lastly, the Rashbatz:

When the actions of the community are corrupt, one who separates from them is praiseworthy. Concerning this, Yirmiyahu ha'Navi said: "If only someone would give me a travelers' lodge in the wilderness, then I would forsake my people and leave them, for they are all adulterers etc." (Yirmiyahu 9:1). And David said: "I hated the gathering of evildoers, and I did not sit with the wicked" (Tehilim 26:5). And Yeshaya said: "Don't talk about a 'unified group,' for everything this people speaks of is a 'unified group'" (Yeshaya 8:12, translated according to Metzudas Tzion). And the Torah says: "Do not go after the majority for evil" (Shemos 23:2). 

But if their actions aren't too corrupt, you shouldn't separate from them ... 

Did you figure it out? That's right. Although these three Rishonim differ in their interpretation Hillel's statement, they are unanimous in their rejection of "absolute achdus," "unconditional achdus," and "achdus irrespective of our differences." 

Achdus Yisrael is beneficial for society and brings glory to God, but only when that achdus is harmonious with His ratzon. Rebbi Yochanan ha'Sandlar expressed this point when he said: "Any congregation which is for the sake of heaven will ultimately prevail, but one which isn't for the sake of heaven will ultimately not prevail" (Avos 4:11). No matter how this mishnah, it is clear that he is not advocating unconditional achdus.

Artwork: False Peace, by Zina Saunders

To my mind, one of the best depictions of the good type of achdus Yisrael is the Rosh ha'Shanah edition of the third brachah of the shemoneh esreh:

You are kadosh (transcendent) and Your Name is kadosh, and kedoshim praise You every day, forever. And so, too, O Hashem, our God, instill Your awe upon all Your works, and Your dread upon all that You have created. Let all works fear You and all creatures prostrate themselves before You. Let them all become a single society, to do Your will wholeheartedly. For as we know, Hashem, our God, that the dominion is Yours, might is in Your hand and strength is in Your right hand, and Your Name inspires awe over all that You have created. 

The natural question is: How can this achdus be achieved?  On the surface, it would seem that this is an unanswerable question. The question of how to achieve peace has plagued every society since the dawn of mankind. The problem is so multifaceted and daunting that it doesn't even seem worthwhile to ask the question.

Thankfully, Judaism provides a clear answer to this question. How can true achdus be achieved? Through knowledge. I can't express this point any better than the Rambam in the Moreh ha'Nevuchim 3:11, so I'll just quote him in full (with my own paragraph breaks):

All the great evils which men cause to each other because of certain intentions, desires, opinions, or religious principles, are likewise due to non-existence, because they originate in ignorance, which is absence of wisdom. 

A blind man, for example, who has no guide, stumbles constantly, because he cannot see, and causes injury and harm to himself and others. In the same manner, various classes of men, each man in proportion to his ignorance, bring great evils upon themselves and upon other individual members of the species. 

If men possessed wisdom, which stands in the same relation to the form of man as the sight to the eye, they would not cause any injury to themselves or to others: for the knowledge of truth removes hatred and quarrels, and prevents mutual injuries. 

This state of society is promised to us by the prophet in the words: “The wolf will live with the sheep [and the leopard will lie down with the kid; and a calf, a lion whelp, and a fatling together, and a young child will lead them.] A cow bear will graze and their young will lie down together; [and a lion, like cattle, will eat hay.] A suckling child will play by a viper’s mouth; [and a newly weaned child will stretch his hand toward an adder’s lair” (Yeshaya 11:6-8). 

The prophet also points out what will be the cause of this change, for he says that hatred, quarrel, and fighting will come to an end, because men will then have a true knowledge of God. “They will neither injure nor destroy in all of My holy mountain; for the earth will be as filled with knowledge of Hashem as water covering the sea bed” (ibid. 11:9). Note it.

The key to achdus Yisrael is knowledge: knowledge of ourselves, knowledge of Torah, knowledge of the world - all in the framework of knowledge of Hashem. "But let him that glorify himself glory in this: understanding and knowing Me, that I am Hashem, Who does kindness, justice, and righteousness on the earth, for in these is My desire – the word of Hashem" (Yirmiyahu 9:23).

Of course, the Rambam does not mean to suggest that all we need to do is learn Torah 24/7 and everything will automatically take care of itself. People are complicated, and the problems we make for ourselves and for each other are equally complicated. Rather, the Rambam is saying that since ignorance is the root of all problems bein adam l'chaveiro, then all efforts to solve those problems must be based upon, guided by, and move towards knowledge. 

There is one last point I'd like to raise in this post - and this is where it gets tricky. The quest for knowledge must, of necessity, involve disagreement. It must also involve opposition to falsehood - opposition in in mind, in speech, and in action. In an ideal world, this would take place in the spirit of mutual respect and truth-seeking, untainted by ego and other negative emotions. The mishnah in Avos 5:17 points to the disagreements of Hillel and Shammai as the paradigm of "good disagreement" (a.k.a. "machlokes l'shem shamayim" or "disagreement for the sake of heaven").

Unfortunately, we do not live in an ideal world. Our world is filled with people who are intellectually and emotionally immature. We, ourselves, are intellectually and emotionally immature in comparison to others - and even the greatest thinkers are prone to bouts of immaturity. This makes things a lot more contentious and difficult. "Machlokes she'lo l'shem shamayim" ("disagreement not for the sake of heaven") prevails, and threatens to disrupt "the good achdus" at every step of the way.

How are we to conduct ourselves in a world divided by machlokes she'lo l'shem shamayim? Generally speaking, there are only two directions in which we, as members of Jewish society, can move in seeking a solution: either we can move towards knowledge, or away from it.

There is a trend among those who promote "unconditional achdus" to point out all of the ugliness that is generated by machlokes she'lo l'shem shamayim. On this score, they are correct: it can get quite ugly, and cause many problems. 

The mistake, however, is the solution that "unconditional achdus" proponents tend to adopt: they tend to believe that shalom can only be achieved by uncritically embracing and/or tolerating all beliefs and opinions as equally valid. Their approach is founded on a lack of basic epistemological yesodos and an erroneous understanding of concepts like shivim panim l'Torah and eilu v'eilu divrei Elokim chayim. They fail to realize that this approach leads away from knowledge, down the road of ignorance, and - according to the Rambam cited above - to increased harm and suffering.

It would behoove us to remember the example set by Korach and his assembly, in their rebellion against Moshe Rabbeinu. Their machlokes with Moshe is identified by the mishnah in Avos as a machlokes she'lo l'shem shamayim - and yet, we do not see Moshe tolerating their views as "equal." The same is true of all the neviim and chachamim throughout Tanach. No matter how steeped in falsehood their society was, they never abandoned their commitment to defending knowledge and truth against the voices of ignorance and falsehood. Ahavas Yisrael they had, but not to the point where it compromised their ahavas Hashem, which is inextricably bound up with their ahavas ha'emes. 

The endeavor to treat all opinions as equally valid will, at best, only achieve a superficial and short-lived achdus - one which will erode the true foundations of true achdus. The only way to secure long-term achdus Yisrael is through the continual and communal pursuit of knowledge. If only we could overlook our differences to the point where we could all engage in an honest and open pursuit of knowledge without validating all opinions. It is possible to treat others with respect, compassion, and genuine empathy without compromising one's commitment to truth-seeking.

I sincerely hope and pray that we all live to see the true achdus in the fulfillment of Tzfania's prophecy: "For then I will change the nations [to speak] a pure language, so that they all will proclaim the Name of Hashem, to worship Him with a unified resolve" (Tzfania 3:9).

Mishlei 21:8 - The Purity of Actions

משלי כא:ח

הֲפַכְפַּךְ דֶּרֶךְ אִישׁ וָזָר וְזַךְ יָשָׁר:

Mishlei 21:8
A man's path may be inconsistent and strange, but his action pure and upright.

Notes on Translation
Most of the commentaries attempt to translate this pasuk in accordance with the typical Mishleic structure of "Bad person + bad quality/consequence, and good person + good quality/effect." Here are some examples of alternative translations which follow this approach:

• Rashi: "A man who is strange [in that he turns away from mitzvos] - his path is changeable; but a man who is pure [and follows mitzvos] is upright [in his path]." 
• Saadia Gaon: "[You might encounter] a man whose path is inconsistent, and [consequently it will become] strange to him; but the pure one - his action is upright." 
• Metzudas David: "[If] a person is inconsistent [in his actions, sometimes] the human path [will be with him] and [sometimes he will be] estranged [from the human path], but the [path of the] pure man [will always be] upright."

The difficulty with these translations is that they require quite a bit of shoehorning, as is evident in the number of bracketed words and phrases.

In order to avoid this, I sought to read the pasuk in the most literal and straightforward manner possible. This necessitated deviating from the typical Mishleic structure. If you take the pasuk at face value, it is making a general statement about man: "A man's derech is inconsistent and strange, and/but his action is pure and upright." That is what led me to my final translation. Subsequently I saw that Rabbeinu Yonah translates the pasuk in a similarly generalized manner, though he takes a different approach in his interpretation.

Major Questions / Difficulties

1. What does the pasuk mean by the terms "inconsistent," "strange," "pure," and "upright"?
2. What is the meaning of "derech" ("way" or "path") in this context?
3. How can a person's actions be pure and upright if his path is inconsistent and strange? 
4. Why do we need to know this? What point is Shlomo ha'Melech trying to get across?

Artwork: Edgewalker, by Ben Thompson

Four Sentence Summary of the Main Idea

This pasuk comes to refute two common misconceptions: (1) that if a person’s derech (i.e. personality, philosophy, way of living, etc.) is inconsistent and strange, then his actions cannot be pure and upright, and (2) that, conversely, if a person’s actions are pure and upright, then his derech cannot possibly be inconsistent and strange. In other words, we are psychologically prone to feeling that good actions are somehow “tainted” if they come from an individual whose derech we consider to be inconsistent, strange, or otherwise defective. From the standpoint of a person’s overall perfection and personal development, this may be true, in a certain sense – but in the cause-and-effect, Mishleic framework of actions and consequences, it is false: a person’s actions will produce its effects on the world, regardless of the derech from which it came. Likewise, we must guard against the corresponding pair of misconceptions which are implied by the pasuk: (3) that if a person’s derech is pure and upright, then his actions cannot be inconsistent and strange, and (4) that if a person’s actions are inconsistent and strange, then his derech cannot be pure and upright. 

On Aging: With (and Without) Torah

Originally posted in May, 2009

Artwork: Touch of the Eternal, by Christopher Moeller

On Aging: With (and Without) Torah

In the 10th derashah (sermon) of Derashos ha'Ran, the Ran cites a mishnah in Kinnim 3:6:

Rebbi Shimon ben Akashya says: Elderly unlearned men, as long as they continue to age, their daas become even more agitated (mitarefes), as it is stated: "He removes the speech of the capable and takes away the reasoning of the elderly" (Iyov 12:20). But Torah-elders are not like that; rather, as long as they continue to age, their daas become even more settled (misyasheves), as it is stated: "In the aged is wisdom and in length of days, understanding" (ibid. 12:12). 

There are two major questions on this mishnah: 

1. What is meant by the opposite terms "yishuv ha'daas" and "tiruf ha'daas"? The term "daas" has many meanings - what does it mean here? What are "yishuv" (settling) and "tiruf" (agitation) in relation to daas, in this context?
   
2. What is the difference between the unlearned elders and the Torah-elders? Why does the daas of an unlearned elder become more agitated as he ages, whereas the daas of a Torah elder becomes more settled? 

Here is the Ran's explanation of the mishnah: 

This does not mean that as long as the Torah-elders continue to age the more their wisdom increases, for it is possible that this won't happen. Since the intellect is dependent upon the physical faculties [e.g. senses, imagination, memory - all of which function through the brain, which is a physical organ], it is possible that when these men become exceedingly old, and these faculties weaken, the intellect will also become weakened ...

Rather, when the mishnah said, "their daas become even more settled," its meaning is as follows. In their youth, the Torah-elders gave up their addictions to the pleasures of the physical world and chose the path of the Good; therefore, as they continue to age, their daas become more settled. This means that they became more reconciled with themselves and their daas became at ease with the decision of their youth. In other words, even though they decided in their youth to abandon their addictions to the pleasures of the physical world and its excesses, it is impossible that they were not occasionally drawn to them. Even though their intellect opposed this, and prevented them from being seduced by the physical pleasures, it is impossible that they did not desire them to some degree. Therefore, their daas was not completely settled [in their youth, for they were caught between two opposing forces.

But the more they continue to age, these more these desires weaken. Their imaginative faculty sees that everything it once fantasized about in the matters of the physical world was pointless, transient, and utterly finite. At that point, it is no longer necessary for their intellect to oppose the imaginative faculty and to dissent. Therefore, their daas is settled, for they clearly see that they had chosen the Good and resolved to follow it, and everything they had forfeited in the matters of the physical world was worthless, and that there is no cause for feeling anxiety over its forfeiture.

The opposite befalls the unlearned elders. In their youth they were seduced by their addictions to the pleasures of the physical world; their daas was at ease and reconciled with this, and they didn't care about their intellect's opposition. But as they continue to age, the physical world withdraws from them and they withdraw from it. They see that everything they once desired and chose in their youth was but nothingness, vanity, and "that they only inherited falsehood" (cf. Yirmiyahu 16:19). Because of this, their daas is not settled with the decision of their youth. Nevertheless, since "they did not learn righteousness" (cf. Yishaya 26:10), and they had become habituated and sunken in their bad habits, their intellect lacks the ability to turn completely away from the path which they have taken until now. Therefore, as they continue to age, they will be caught between two paths, and "the path will not be theirs" (cf. Iyov 23:10).

This is what the Rabbis of blessed memory intended by the expression "their daas is agitated (mitarefes)," as in the expression, "a ship that is mitarefes" (Taanis 19a). This expression refers to a ship in the middle of the ocean with oppressive waves thrusting the ship from one side to the other, and its sailors are unable to guide it on a single path; instead, the wind pushes, sometimes to one side and sometimes to the opposite. Likewise are those who are seduced by their addictions to the physical pleasures of this world, as they continue to age: for in their youth their daas was settled, but in their old age, their daas is agitated. 

We can now answer both of our questions. According to the Ran, yishuv ha'daas means "peaceful state of mind." Daas, in this context, does not refer to the intellect - which the Ran repeatedly calls "seichel."  Rather, "daas" refers to what we commonly refer to as one's "state of mind." Yishuv ha'daas is a state of mind in which one feels at ease, due to the absence of conflict between one's intellect and one's inner psychological forces. Likewise, tiruf ha'daas means "troubled state of mind." As the Ran explains, the expression "tiruf" refers to a state of being pushed and pulled between two opposing forces. Tiruf ha'daas is a conflicted state of mind in which one feels agitated, frustrated, and unsettled, due to the clash between one's intellect and one's inner psychological forces.

Thus, the meaning of the mishnah is as follows: The Torah-elders, in their youth, decided to trade the life of physical and psychological pleasure for the life of chochmah. However, the draw towards physical and psychological pleasure was still present and continued to generate conflict and anxiety, leaving them in a state of partial tiruf ha'daas. But as they become older, and their instinctual forces weaken, their intellect - which they had nourished since youth - sees that they chose correctly, and that everything they gave up was nothingness and vanity. Thus, in their old age, they will no longer be in a state of conflict. They will have achieved yishuv ha'daas; their minds will be at ease. Thus, they will now be free to invest all of their energy into the inherently pleasurable pursuit of chochmah, and their wisdom and understanding will increase.

The unlearned elders, on the other hand, chose to embrace their addictions of the life of pleasure in their youth. The Ran states that they were able to achieve a great measure of yishuv ha'daas in their youth by ignoring the dissenting voice of their intellect, but this yishuv ha'daas was destined to be short-lived. As they age, they too realize that the life of pleasure was vain and futile, and that they should have spent their life in pursuit of something lasting and permanent - but by the time they reach old age, it is too late for them. They will spend their final years in a state of tiruf ha'daas, torn between their insatiable longing for the now unattainable pleasures of their youth, and the opposite longing for something real and lasting (i.e. chochmah), which they are also unable to attain.