Rambam: On Not Citing Sources

Originally published in January 2009, in a cruder form. Click here for a printer-friendly version of this blog post.

Artwork: Arcane Lighthouse, by Igor Kieryluk

Rambam: On Not Citing Sources

ha'Omer Davar b'Shem Omro

The braisa in Avos 6:6 [1] enumerates 48 qualities that are necessary for "acquiring Torah." The 48th quality on the list is "ha'omer davar b'shem omro" - one who says something in the name of the person who [originally] said it. The braisa goes on to explain that whoever does this "brings redemption to the world, as it is stated, 'And Esther said to the king in the name of Mordechai' (Esther 2:22)." This virtue of ha'omer davar b'shem omro is lauded by Chazal (the Sages) in other places as well (Megilah 15a, Chulin 104b, Nidah 19b - just to name a few). 

According to Chazal, not only is it good and proper to say something in the name of the original speaker, but it is bad and improper to not say something in the name of the original speaker. Chazal teach: "Concerning one who doesn't say something in the name of the original speaker, the verse states, 'Do not steal from the poor, because he is poor' (Mishlei 22:22)" (Tanchuma Bamidbar 27). Similarly: "One who says something in the name of someone who didn't say it brings a curse upon the world" (Yalkut Shimoni, Mishlei 247).

Rambam's Anonymity Policy

Based on these sources one might think that it is never acceptable to cite another person's idea without proper attribution. Yet, in his preface to Shemoneh Perakim the Rambam [2] writes: 

It is important to know, though, that I did not originate the ideas expressed or the explanations offered in these chapters or in my commentary [to Pirkei Avos]; rather, they have been collected from the words of the Sages in midrashim, the Talmud, and in their other works, as well as from the words of earlier and later philosophers [Jewish and non-Jewish], and from the works of many others. Accept the truth from whoever utters it.

Once in a while, though, I will quote verbatim from a well-known work [without indicating that it is a quotation]. There is nothing wrong with this, since I am not taking credit for what someone else already said, and because I hereby acknowledge [at the outset that I will be doing this].

I will also not say, "So-and-so said this" or "So-and-so said that" because that would be unnecessarily wordy. Furthermore, it might make a reader who does not accept the author think that what he said is harmful or has a sinister intent that he is unaware of. Therefore I decided to leave out the author's name, for my aim is to help the reader and explain what is hidden away in this tractate.

The question is: How can we reconcile Chazal's position on ha'omer davar b'shem omro with the Rambam's practice in Shemoneh Perakim? Surely the Rambam was aware of the principle of ha'omer davar b'shem omro which is stated in the braisa of Avos - the very tractate about  which these words of the Rambam were written! How can he not cite his sources? 

Illicitly Taking Credit

The Rambam justifies his policy of not citing sources by saying: 

Once in a while, though, I will quote verbatim from a well-known work [without indicating that it is a quotation]. There is nothing wrong with this, since I am not taking credit for what someone else already said, and because I hereby acknowledge [at the outset that I will be doing this].

In other words, it would appear that the Rambam does not interpret ha'omer davar b'shem omro to mean that one must attribute statements to their original source, but rather, that one must not claim credit for the ideas of others. Thus, the Rambam has satisfied the guideline of ha'omer davar b'shem omro simply by acknowledging at the outset that he will be using the ideas of others in his treatise, and that he does not claim credit for these ideas. According to the Rambam, it would only be a violation of ha'omer davar b'shem omro if he presented someone else's ideas as his own. 

But one might raise another objection to the Rambam's practice: If the Rambam is quoting the words of an authority figure, isn't it important to mention that authority's name? Sure, it's nice that the Rambam doesn't claim authorship for ideas that are not his own, but how will the reader be able to judge the truth of the statement if he doesn't know who said it? How can the Rambam dismiss the citation of sources as being "unnecessarily wordy"? 

Authority and Truth

The answer to this question is contained in address by what is one of the most oft-quoted sayings of the Rambam: "Accept the truth from whoever says it." The Rambam elaborates on this principle in the Mishneh Torah in the laws of sanctifying the new moon. After several chapters of complex astronomical calculations, the Rambam [3] concludes:

As regards the logic for all these calculations – why we have to add a particular figure or deduct it, how all these rules originated, and how they were discovered and proved – all this is part of the science of astronomy and mathematics, about which many books have been composed by Greek sages – books that are still available to the scholars of our time. But the books which had been composed by the Sages of Israel, of the tribe of Yissachar, who lived in the time of the prophets, have not come down to us. But since all these rules have been established by sound and clear proofs, free from any flaw and irrefutable, we don’t care about the identity of their authors, whether they were Jewish prophets or Gentile sages. For regarding any matter whose rationale is evident and whose truth has been verified by sound proofs: we do not rely on the person who said it or taught it, but on the proof that has been demonstrated and the reasoning that we know.

For example, if the Rambam wrote "2+2=4," he would not need to cite a mathematician to support his point. Why not? Because the truth of 2+2=4 does not rest on authority. Its truth is evident to the mind. This is what the Rambam means by the last sentence in the aforementioned passage: when it comes to a statement, the truth of which has been demonstrated by proof and reasoning, authority has no place. We do not accept such a statement because it was stated by an authority. We accept it because our minds see the truth.

What is true for arithmetic is true for the concepts taught in Avos (i.e. ideas of philosophy and ethics) as well. If a philosophical or ethical idea has been validly demonstrated with clear evidence, proofs, and reasoning, then it doesn't matter who said it - prophet or gentile, old or young, expert or layman. The truth speaks for itself, and is not dependent on the affirmation of any authority.

Indeed, the Talmud is filled with instances in which the question is raised, "What is the source for this idea?" and the Gemara answers "sevara hee" (lit. "it is rational idea") which means "the truth of this statement is evident, and does not require a source." The Sefer ha'Chinuch [4] takes this further in the introduction to his book. He raises the question, "Why doesn't the Torah discuss the fate of the soul after death and the World to Come?" and answers:

Such matters do not require the support of proofs and testimony [from the Torah], for they are their own proof and testimony; they are first principles (i.e. ideas whose rationale is evident to the mind). Therefore, the Torah never goes on at length about matters that can be known through human reasoning [alone], just as the Sages have said in so many places, "sevara hee" - meaning, no Scriptural proof is necessary in that which reason dictates.

The Rambam intended that the content of Shemoneh Perakim be assessed on its own merit. He expected the reader to think about the ideas and proofs contained therein, to determine with his or her own mind whether or not they make sense, and to accept or reject them on that basis, and on that basis alone.

When Attribution is Necessary

Needless to say, there are valid reasons for citing one's sources. If the truth of a statement rests on facts which can only be obtained through specialized observation or can only be understood through a specialized branch of knowledge, then a layperson shouldn't accept the statement as true without the endorsement of a qualified expert. For instance, it is unwise for a layperson to rely on statements about medicine unless those statements have been vetted by medical experts. Likewise, the merit of a halachic statement often hinges on its source(s).

Sometimes it is necessary to know who authored a particular statement in order to ensure that it is consistent with other statements made by the same author. For this reason the Gemara endeavors to record the source of every halachic statement therein. When an apparent contradiction arises between two statements by the same author, it becomes necessary to explain the contradiction by analyzing each statement in an attempt to arrive at a consistent position.

Another reason to cite sources is to facilitate further research on the part of the reader. For example, someone who reads this post might want to read the text of the Rambam in context to see whether I have accurately conveyed his view. Had I not mentioned the source of the text, it would be difficult for the reader to investigate the material on his or her own. [5]

Another reason to attribute a statement to the original speaker is for rhetorical purposes. There are people who won't accept a rational, validly demonstrated idea unless they see it written in the name of an authority figure whom they respect. To convince such people of the truth of these ideas, it may be necessary to invoke authority.

However, as the Rambam points out, attribution might backfire if the authority doesn't find favor in the eyes of the reader. For example, many of the concepts that the Rambam mentions in Shemoneh Perakim have their origin in the writings of Aristotle. Had the Rambam attributed these ideas to Aristotle explicitly, they might be rejected by someone who feels that it is wrong to study Greek/secular philosophy.

As a great chacham once said, "Unthinking respect for authority is the greatest enemy of the truth," and unthinking rejection of truth because of the authority who stated it is just as bad.

Conclusion

In truth, there are two possible ways to reconcile the Rambam's practice in Shemoneh Perakim with the braisa in Avos. One possibility is as we have explained: that the Rambam maintains that the ikkar (essence) of ha'omer davar b'shem omro is to not take credit for someone else's ideas, and since the Rambam gave due credit at the beginning of Shemoneh Perakim, then there is no virtue in citing specific names - especially when dealing with a subject matter in which the truth can speak for itself.

The other possibility is that the Rambam held that there are other beneficial reasons for ha'omer davar b'shem omro, but the most important consideration is the acceptance of the truth by those who hear it. Since the Rambam was worried that people would reject these ideas based on their source, then it would be better to forego citation and state the ideas anonymously rather than uphold ha'omer davar b'shem omro and risk turning people away from the truth.

Either way, we see that the Rambam did not view the citation of sources as an absolute requirement. The irony is that we needed to cite our sources in this post to support our view.

[1] Technically speaking, this braisa is from Avos d'Rebbi Nosson. However, it has become a widespread practice to refer to this section as "the sixth chapter of Pirkei Avos" - even though Avos only has five chapters.

[2] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Commentary on the Mishnah: Introduction to Avos (a.k.a. Shemoneh Perakim), Preface

[3] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer Zmanim, Hilchos Kidush ha'Chodesh 17:25
[4] Sefer ha'Chinuch, Introduction
[5] In a letter to his pupil Rav Yosef, the Rambam expressed his regret for not writing a bibliography for the Mishneh Torah: 

Because of this, I regret that I did not compose along with my composition a separate volume whose content I will now explain to you and which I still hope to compose, if God will decree that I will be able to do it, even though it is a very demanding task and effort - that is, a source book to my composition which will cite the source for every halacha whose origin is not evident ... This source book would be a separate companion volume to my composition, since I obviously cannot incorporate it into the body of the work, because the nature of its subject conflicts with the structure and style of a monolithic code, as I explained to you previously. 

Parashas Devarim: Abravanel's Bold Approach to Sefer Devarim

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Parashas Devarim: Abravanel's Bold Approach to Sefer Devarim

Let's cut right to he chase: What is the purpose of Sefer Devarim? Chazal refer to Devarim as "Mishneh Torah" (the Restatement of Torah) because most of the sefer is a repetition of previous material. Moshe recounts the key events from the earlier seforim, he goes over many of the laws that have already been presented, and he reiterates many of the messages that were previously stated.

The Abravanel [1] begins by summarizing the Ramban's approach to Sefer Devarim, which he seems to regard as reflective of "the mainstream view":

It would seem from the words of the Holy Rabbi, the Ramban [2] (of blessed memory), in the introduction to his commentary on this book, that Moshe Adoneinu had three intentions [in Sefer Devarim]:

(1) The first intention was to rebuke the nation and to remind them of their sins - how much they rebelled in the Midbar, and how [God] related to them with the midas ha'rachamim (mode of mercy). 

(2) The second intention was to tell Israel new mitzvos which were not written in the prior books [of Chumash], which were already said to Moshe at Har Sinai in the first year, but which he hadn't yet commanded Israel until now. 

(3) To inform those who were entering Eretz Yisrael of the mitzvos that were written in the earlier books and of the Ten Declarations - whether to add explanation in some cases, or whether to warn Israel with many warnings in order to instill fear in them, even without additional clarification. And because the majority of them were not present at the Revelation at Sinai when the mitzvos were given, he needed to tell them about it now.

As you might imagine from the title of this blog post, the Abravanel disagrees with this framework for Sefer Devarim. As usual, he takes a far more gutsy approach. He writes:

The intent of Moshe, our master, in this book was not to rebuke Israel, nor to tell them new mitzvos which were not found in the earlier books, nor did he intend to remind them of mitzvos that were already presented in order to warn them or because they hadn't heard them at Sinai. Rather, his intention was solely to explain the Torah and the mitzvos - those which required clarification - as it is stated: "Moshe began to explain this Torah" (Devarim 1:5). This was the sole purpose; there was no other.

I assure you that no mitzvah appears in this book which you will not find in the earlier books "if you search for it like silver" (Mishlei 2:4) - whether explicitly, or by concise allusion. And [regarding] those mitzvos which were already mentioned to Israel, and fully explained in the earlier books - he left them as they were, without adding any explanation; therefore, they are not mentioned in this book. However, with regard to the miracles that were alluded to or stated concisely, [Moshe] saw fit to explain them while he was still alive, but when he was [about to] die they would need explanation and clarification. Therefore he needed to include them in this book in order to explain them - not for any other purpose.

And since, with regards to the reward of the mitzvos, it's possible that the listeners had doubts which arose because they heard what happened to their fathers in the Wilderness, it became necessary for the beneficial teacher (i.e. Moshe) to tell them these things - not to rebuke the children for what their fathers did, which would be purposeless, but only in order to tell them the content of the matter and the depth of wisdom, each in accordance with its topic, and to resolve for them every doubt. 

In other words, Abravanel holds that when Hashem introduces Sefer Devarim by saying: "Moshe began to explain this Torah," He said what He meant and meant what He said. The sole purpose of Sefer Devarim is to explain the Torah - not to introduce new mitzvos, not to rebuke Klal Yisrael, and not merely instill fear of Hashem in the generation that would go on to conquer the Land.

As expected, the Abravanel follows through on his assurance that there are no new mitzvos in Sefer Devarim. Open up the Sefer ha'Chinuch on Sefer Devarim, choose any mitzvah which the Sefer ha'Chinuch holds is introduced for the first time in Sefer Devarim, then look at the Abravanel's commentary. You'll see that he explains where and how each seemingly "new" mitzvah was actually alluded to in the first four books of Chumash.

For example, Parashas Ki Seitzei begins with the mitzvah of yefas toar (the Beautiful Captive), which was seemingly not mentioned anywhere in Torah until this point. The Abravanel [3] writes:

It is proper for you to know that the Ramban thought that these mitzvos - yefas toar, the birthright of the first born, the Ben Sorer u'Moreh (Wayward and Rebellious Son), and the hanging [of an executed criminal on the gallows] - are all "new mitzvos." This is not my opinion. Behold, in Parashas Ki Sisa [Hashem] issued a warning against intermarrying with the other nations, saying: "And you will take their daughters for your sons, and their daughters will stray after their gods and entice your sons to stray after their gods" (Shemos 34:16). Therefore, [Moshe] saw fit to explain here that there is a permissible way to marry [a non-Jewish woman] - namely, as a yefas toar who was taken captive - but only under the conditions that he will mention. Likewise with the other mitzvos [mentioned above:] you will find that they were mentioned in the past, as I will prove for each one of them. 

What about the mitzvos about appointing a king (i.e. to appoint a king, to not appoint a non-Jew) and the mitzvos that pertain specifically to the king (i.e. that he must not obtain an excess of horses, wives, or riches)? It would seem that these mitzvos are introduced in Sefer Devarim with the words: "You shall surely set over yourself a king etc." (Devarim 17:15-20), and one would be hard-pressed to find references to these mitzvos in the earlier books of Chumash. Yet, the Abravanel [4] succeeds in finding an allusion to this entire category of mitzvos:

Some people have thought that this mitzvah is "new" and was not mentioned in the past. But I have already mentioned that the king is one of the types of judges, and is on a higher level [of judicial authority]. Therefore, he is included in the statement: "to the judges shall come both their claims" (Shemos 22:10), and he was also mentioned in: "do not curse a judge" (ibid. 22:17). 

What about the mitzvah of ahavas Hashem (love of God), which we were commanded in the statement: "You shall love Hashem, your God, with all of your heart, with all of your soul, and with all of your resources" (Devarim 6:5)? Abravanel [5] answers:

The mtizvah of ahavas Hashem has already been mentioned in that which was commanded: "You shall serve Hashem, your God" (Shemos 23:25), because loving Him stems from serving Him. 

And so on. I haven't been through every single "seemingly new" mitzvah in Sefer Devarim, but I believe the Abravanel when he assures us that he attempts to address this question in every case. 

I wrote this post because I am intrigued by the insights that the Abravanel's approach might yield. [6] Up until now I have viewed Sefer Devarim as a primary text for learning about the "new" mitzvos presented therein. But according to the Abravanel, Sefer Devarim should actually be learned a sort of commentary on the rest of Torah - a commentary written by the most qualified commentator ever: Moshe Rabbeinu, himself! How will this affect the way we understand these mitzvos? What is the best method to use for approaching mitzvos this way? I can't wait to find out! 

I also wrote this post because it helped me realize one of the things I love about the Abravanel: he goes ALL IN on his theories! Obviously this applies to other meforshim, but the Abravanel does it with such unique flair, such conviction, and such eloquence - in the manner of a Spanish nobleman with Davidic blood coursing through his veins! [7]

Consider the case we have been discussing. The Abravanel was aware of the theories of the great chachamim who preceded him. After voicing the questions and problems he saw with their approaches, he proposed his own theory: one which took the words of the Torah seriously (i.e. when the Torah said that "Moshe began to explain this Torah," the Abravanel took that to mean that Sefer Devarim is only an explanation of the Torah that had been given up until that point - and nothing more). He then goes on to apply this theory to the whole book, and doesn't shy away from or ignore the questions and objections that others might have to his theory.

This reminds me of something I heard soon after I converted to Judaism. One of my rabbeim in school made reference to the Gemara in Pesachim 22b about one of the Tannaim who had a theory that every instance in the Torah of the word "es" (את) should be understood as a ribui (i.e. that it legally extended the principle in question to a new particular which wouldn't have otherwise been covered by the original category). The Gemara states:

[This Tanna] interpreted every es in the Torah, [but] when he came to, "Es Hashem Elokechah tira" ("You shall revere Hashem, your God" - Devarim 6:13) he desisted. [Rashi explains that he couldn't justify revering any being aside from Hashem.] 

His students said to him: "Master, what will happen to all of the instances of es that you interpreted?" He answered: "K'shem she'kibalti sachar al ha'drishah, kach ani mekabel sachar al ha'prishah" ("Just as I have received reward for interpreting them, so will I receive reward for retracting.")

Hearing this at the outset of my learning made a big impression on me. I was impressed by how gutsy this Tanna was to make such a universal claim, but I was in awe of the fact that he successfully applied this theory to every single case, then retracted when he faced a single disproof. That takes intellectual courage and intellectual humility - the same two qualities I so often see in the writings of the Abravanel.

To repeat: I'm not saying that these qualities are unique to the Abravanel. However, it is undeniable that the Abravanel wrote far lengthier commentaries than most (if not all) of the other meforshim. They usually just express their view, and sometimes address a question or two. In contrast, the Abravanel takes us on a tour throughout his whole thought process and explains why he disagrees with his predecessors. This provides a different perspective on how a true thinker operates, and I appreciate seeing this throughout the Abravanel's commentary.

Now that we have a "new" way to approach Sefer Devarim, let's see what happens when we apply it over the next ten parshiyos!

[1] Don Yitzchak Abravanel, Commentary on Sefer Devarim: Introduction
[2] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Commentary on Sefer Devarim: Introduction
[3] Don Yitzchak Abravanel, Commentary on Sefer Devarim 21:10
[4] ibid. 17:15
[5] ibid. 6:5
[6] I've been informed that R' Menachem Leibtag takes the same (or a similar) approach to Sefer Devarim, but I haven't actually checked it out yet.  
[7] The Abravanel is like the Lestat of the meforshim. Ve'ha'meivin yavin.

Bruce Lee: The Emergence of Styles

Last week I relaunched a series of commentary-posts on the section of Bruce Lee's Tao of Jeet Kune Do entitled "Organized Despair" - the entirety of which may be read here. Each post in the series stands on its own, though I will definitely cross-reference posts, and explain the progression. 

As noted before, this is not a "pure" commentary, in which I merely elucidate Bruce Lee's words. Instead, my goal is to explain his teachings and share some examples of how they have influenced my life as a teacher, a learner, and a gamer. 

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Bruce Lee: The Emergence of Styles

After discussing the instinct to follow and imitate, Bruce Lee moves on to discuss the natural outcome of this instinct: styles. There are many styles of martial arts: Karate, Aikido, Judo, Jujitsu, Taekwondo, Krav Maga, Boxing, Wrestling, and many more. 

This diversity of styles is present in all crafts and arts: teaching, parenting, painting, dancing, trading, psychoanalysis, and so on. Within each of these crafts there are a multitude of different styles, even if not all of them have specific names, official "canons," or large followings.

As we read and analyze this next excerpt, think about your own crafts and their many styles. For example, if you have spent some time learning talmud, think of the different darchei ha'limud (methodologies of learning). Likewise, think about the different ideologies and approaches within Judaism itself. After all, the Torah, itself, is a craft, and there are clearly a wide variety of styles that have developed over the past few millennia. 

Having said that, we are now ready to read the second paragraph of Organized Despair: 

Each man belongs to a style which claims to possess truth to the exclusion of all other styles. These styles become institutes with their explanations of the “Way,” dissecting and isolating the harmony of firmness and gentleness, establishing rhythmic forms as the particular state of their techniques.

In my opinion, the best explanation of Bruce Lee's usage of the term "style" was given by Bruce Lee, himself, in the first draft (out of eight) of his essay, Jeet Kune Do: Toward Personal Liberation. Here is his explanation:

Before we look into JKD let's find out what exactly a classical style of martial art is. To begin with, we must realize the absolute fact that man created style. Disregard the many colorful histories of their founders – by a wise, mysterious monk, by special messenger in a dream, in a holy revelation, flooded with golden light, and so forth, and so on. A style should never be the gospel truth, the laws and principles of which can never be violated. Man, the human being, is always more important than any style.

The founder of a style may be exposed to some partial truth, but as time passes by, especially after the founder has passed away, "his" postulates, "his" inclination, "his" concluding formula – we constantly learn, we never conclude – become a law. Creeds are invented, reinforcing ceremonies are prescribed, separative philosophies are formulated, and, finally, the institutions are erected, so what might have started off as some sort of personal fluidity of its founder is now solidified, fixed knowledge – organized and classified response presented in logical order – a preserved cure-all for mass conditioning. In so doing, the well-meaning followers have made this knowledge not only a holy shrine, but a tomb in which the founder's wisdom is buried.

If we honestly look at the reality of combat as it actually is, and not as we would like it to be, I am sure we cannot help but notice that a style tends to bring about adjustment, partiality, denials, condemnations and a lot of justification. In short, the solution being offered is the very cause of the problem, placing limitations and obstacles on our natural growth and consequently obstructing the way to genuine understanding.

Of course, as a direct reaction to "the other truth," another founder or maybe possibly a dissatisfied disciple would "organize" an oppositional approach – as in the case of the soft style versus the hard style, the internal school versus the external school, and so forth – and pretty soon it, too, would become a large organization with its own set laws and its chosen pattern. So begins the long struggle with each style claiming to possess the "truth" to the exclusion of all others. So whereas the human being is total and universal – while a style is a partialized projection of an individual and therefore is blinded by that chosen segment and is therefore never the total – the style has long become more important than its practitioners. Worse still is the fact that these styles often are opposed to each other – because they tend to be separated in thoughts form each other; consequently, styles separate men rather than unite them.

This is why Bruce Lee was opposed to styles - a theme we will explore in the upcoming installments. For now, I'd like to focus on the theme that he dealt with in the excerpt above, namely, the cycle by which styles emerge. According to Bruce Lee, that cycle can be divided into six stages, which I will now summarize:

(1) Insight: A man is exposed to a partial truth - a glimmer of the Total Truth which is the object of his craft. The pursuit of this insight will take him off the beaten path and into unexplored territory.

(2) Development of Style: He begins to develop his own unique style on the basis of that partial truth. This style is highly personalized, since it emanates from his own perception of the Truth.

• If he remains fluid, this style will continue to develop in a dynamic manner and will lead to further discoveries and insights. 
• If he becomes enamored by his own discovery, then his style will solidify and his growth will cease. But at least he will have paved a path and taken a step or two towards the Truth.

(3) Followers: Along the way, he attracts followers who latch onto the superficial aspects of his style. Unlike the founder, who remains in a fluid and dynamic pursuit of the Truth, these followers are rigid. They are governed by a single principle: strict imitation of their leader.

(4) Systematization: When the founder dies (or, in some cases, even during his lifetime), the followers take over. They create a rigid doctrine and system out of the follower's final formulations (which only became "final" due to the interruption of his life). They treat these teachings as gospel and regard any deviations as heresy.

(5) Divergence: Inevitably, disputes arise among the followers. Different followers apprehended the teachings of their followers in different ways, and these differences result in different systematizations. Naturally, these systems compete with each other, since each of them claims to possess "the Truth" to the exclusion of the others.

(6) Followers of Followers: Soon, the founders of these movements die and the process repeats itself. The major difference is that this time, the followers are following other followers, and the original, creative founder is absent from the picture altogether. 

It is easy to see the connection between the topic of styles and the previous topic of the instinct to follow and to imitate. It is this instinct which makes this entire "Life-cycle of Styles" possible. 

Elsewhere, Bruce Lee provides an excellent description of the mentality of the follower, whom he refers to as a "secondhand artist": 

The second-hand artist, in blindly following the teacher, accepts his pattern and, as a result, his action and, above all, his thinking becomes mechanical, his responses automatic according to the pattern - and thereby he ceases to expand or to grow. He is a mechanical robot, a product of thousands of years of propaganda and conditioning. The second-hand artist seldom learns to depend upon himself for expression; instead, he faithfully follows an imposed pattern. So what is nurtured is the dependent mind rather than independent inquiry.

This is the problem that Bruce Lee saw in the proliferation of martial art styles. This is what prompted him to develop his own "way" (not "style") of martial art, which he called "Jeet Kune Do" (The Way of the Intercepting Fist). Bruce Lee viewed Jeet Kune Do as the "style without style." He explained: 

I have not invented a "new style," composite, modified or otherwise that is set within distinct form as apart from "this" method or "that" method. On the contrary, I hope to free my followers from clinging to styles, patterns, or molds.

But we will reserve our discussion of Jeet Kune Do for later posts. For now, it is sufficient to understand it as the "style without style" - that is, the approach which emerges from a rejection of all rigid styles and a never-ending pursuit of absolute fluidity.  

In light of all this, Bruce Lee's earlier words ring true with a greater urgency: "The need for a Pointer of the Way echoes." A teacher who succeeds in being a Pointer of the Way will naturally make it difficult for a style to emerge among his followers. And if he is really successful, his followers will not be second-hand artists at all, but will be able to discover their own unique paths.

As I wrote in my last Bruce Lee post, I am thankful to have found a mentor like this at the outset of my teaching career, and I am even more thankful that my rabbeim have shown me by their example how to learn from a master and simultaneously develop one's own unique style.

I hope that I am able to do the same for my own students.

Mishlei 11:1 - How to Neutralize the Yetzer ha'Ra

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Artwork: Counterbalance, by Joseph Meehan

Mishlei 11:1 - How to Neutralize the Yetzer ha'Ra

משלי יא:א

מֹאזְנֵי מִרְמָה תּוֹעֲבַת יְיָ, וְאֶבֶן שְׁלֵמָה רְצוֹנוֹ:

Mishlei 11:1

Deceitful scales are an abomination to Hashem, but a perfect weight is His desire.

The questions on this pasuk are:

(1) What are "deceitful scales" and "a perfect weight"? Factually, what are we talking about here? 

(2) What is the meaning of the phrases "abomination to Hashem" and "His desire"? "Abomination of Hashem" is a loaded term, and is used to describe a wide variety of actions throughout Tanach. "Hashem's desire" is vague. And while we're at it, why does Mishlei characterize the two halves of the pasuk in terms of Hashem at all? What does this add?

(3) What makes "deceitful scales" an "abomination to Hashem"? Why is "a perfect weight" considered to be "His desire"? Essentially, this is asking, "What is the pasuk teaching us?"

[This is a difficult one. I recommend thinking about it before reading my explanation.]

If memory serves me correctly, I heard this explanation from one of my rabbeim. Here is my four-sentence summary:

“Deceitful scales” refers to scales which are falsely calibrated to earn illicit profit by clandestinely skimming money from the buyer. This pasuk refers not to the prohibition against using deceitful skills, but the separate prohibition of owning deceitful scales, as it is stated, “You shall not have in your pouch a weight and a weight etc. for anyone who does this is an abomination to Hashem” (Devarim 25:16). Shlomo ha’Melech reiterated this prohibition in Mishlei in order to highlight the underlying principle of decision-making to be gained therefrom, namely, that the time to do battle with the yetzer ha’ra (evil inclination) is not in the heat of the moment, but far in advance – before the temptation is even awakened. Although it might be possible to overcome the temptation in the moment through sheer will-power, chances are that this will be a losing battle.

There are many approaches out there for dealing with the yezter ha'ra, some of which attempt to confront the yeter ha'ra head on. According to Mishlei, this approach is rarely successful. The emotions are too overwhelming. If a person says, "I don't need to get rid of my unbalanced scales. I'll just resist the temptation to use them if the urge ever arises," then that person is just setting himself or herself up for failure. You can't count on winning that battle.

Inherent in the method of Mishlei is the idea that - as cliche as it sounds - the best defense against the yetzer ha'ra is a good offense. Those who strategically prepare themselves adequately ahead of time will be able to thwart the yetzer ha'ra before it even gets going "Do not approach the path of the wicked, and do not walk in the way of evildoers. Reject it; do not pass on it; veer away from it and pass on" (Mishlei 4:14-15).

Now, perhaps you'll have noticed that this explanation doesn't answer Question #2. That is true, and that is fine. I've mentioned in previous Mishlei posts that there are "major questions" and "minor questions," and that the majority of the meforshim (with the exception of the Malbim) focus on getting the main idea of the pasuk and don't always concern themselves with the details. The difficulty lies in knowing what is a detail and what is an essential part of the main idea.

When it comes to our pasuk we must ask: is "abomination of Hashem" a technical term which must be defined in order to access the main idea, or is it merely a poetic, emotionally charged term for describing something as "bad" in the eyes of Hashem? Undoubtedly, the meforshim will disagree on questions like this, and the student of Mishlei has no choice but to consider both views and then follow his or her intuition.

In this case, my rebbi - whose idea this is - didn't delve into the meaning of the terms "abomination" or "desire." That's fine. If you can come up with an answer to Question #2 which brings out a subtlety in this idea, or opens the door to a new idea, then that's fine as well.

Either way, we've come away from this pasuk with a clear, practical idea - which is why Shlomo ha'Melech wrote Mishlei in the first place.

There's one last methodology point I'd like to mention, even though it doesn't necessarily have anything to do with the idea of the pasuk. Rabbeinu Yonah, in his commentary on this pasuk, writes:

Deceitful scales are an abomination of Hashem. This is explicitly stated in the Torah, as it is said: "You shall not have in your pocket a stone and a stone etc." (Devarim 25:13), "for all who do this are an abomination of Hashem" (ibid. 25:16). [Therefore,] you need to seek out a reason why Shlomo (peace be upon him) found it necessary to rewrite this without adding any explanation or clarification of meaning.

One of the common mistakes that new Mishlei students make is to offer "explanations" of the pasuk which amount to little more than affirming that "the Torah says this is bad" or "the Torah says this is good." Rabbeinu Yonah confirms what logic itself tells us, namely, that Shlomo ha'Melech isn't going to waste his time merely repeating what the Torah already told us. And if he seems to be repeating the Torah verbatim or near-verbatim, like he does here, then our task is to figure out what he is adding by reiterating the Torah's statement in Mishlei. 

Why I Write

Half of this was originally published in January 2012; the other half is new. Click here for a printer-friendly version of this blog post.

Artwork: Memory Jar, by Donato Giancola

Why I Write

This morning I was thinking about how I preoccupied I used to be with my blog stats. I would obsess about how many clicks each blog post got, and when the numbers were higher or lower than average, I'd wrack my brain to figure out why, so that I could keep giving the public what they wanted.

This obsession proved to be a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it helped me to be a better writer, since I cared about the number of regular readers I had. On the other hand, it created undue pressure which often made it harder to write.

This got me thinking about why I write, in general.

Specifically, it got me thinking about why I have cared less and less about numbers with each year that goes by. And, as writers are wont to do, I had a desire to write about this topic.

At first I planned to write out my own thoughts on this matter. However, I've been perusing what other writers have written about writing - many of whom write for the same reasons as I do. In this post, I'd like to share some of these excerpts. Maybe some day I'll write my own post on why I write.

Here are excerpts from three writers whose reasons for writing align with my own:

George Orwell: Writing for "Political" Purposes

I'll begin with a short quotation from George Orwell's Why I Write (1946). Orwell states that "Putting aside the need to earn a living, I think there are four great motives for writing, at any rate for writing prose." Of these four motives, I find that I relate most to the fourth, which he terms "political purpose." He explains that he is "using the word ‘political’ in the widest possible sense. Desire to push the world in a certain direction, to alter other peoples’ idea of the kind of society that they should strive after." Here is the paragraph that jumped out to me:

What I have most wanted to do throughout the past ten years is to make political writing into an art. My starting point is always a feeling of partisanship, a sense of injustice. When I sit down to write a book, I do not say to myself, "I am going to produce a work of art." I write it because there is some lie that I want to expose, some fact to which I want to draw attention, and my initial concern is to get a hearing. 

I have chosen to lead with this Orwell quotation because it reflects my original motive for writing. When I was in high school I used to want to be a journalist. Once I converted to Judaism and began learning Torah, some of that journalistic zeal and integrity (in that order) became diverted towards the goal of bringing awareness to "authentic Judaism." As a convert who found himself among many FFB (frum from birth) Jews who didn't understand what they were doing or why they were doing it, I felt the urge to reveal the truth that I had learned and share it with others. 

Unfortunately, due to the sorry state that Klal Yisrael is in - and due to my fiery personality - many of these posts ended up with a greater emphasis on sur me'ra ("turn away from bad") than aseh tov ("do good"). My old blog was filled with polemical posts and polemical language. I really didn't hold back, especially when I felt that "sense of injustice ... because there is some lie that I want to expose." 

Over the years I've definitely dialed down the tone in my writing and teaching. I now focus more on what Torah is than what Torah is not. Yet, there is still a strong political character (as defined by Orwell) to my writing, which is also present in my teaching. I am still passionate when it comes to sharing my understanding of Judaism and contrasting it with other views that are out there. I'm just not as "in your face" as I was in my younger days. 
William Stafford: Writing for Discovery

The next few excerpts are from A Way of Writing (1970) by the poet William Stafford. (Full disclosure: I'm not a poetry guy, and haven't read any of Stafford's writings except for what I'm about to share.) This first quotation is the main reason why I write:

A writer is not so much someone who has something to say as he is someone who has found a process that will bring about new things he would not have thought of if he had not started to say them. That is, he does not draw on a reservoir; instead, he engages in an activity that brings to him a whole succession of unforeseen stories, poems, essays, plays, laws, philosophies, religions, or--but wait! …

For me, writing is a method of thinking. I can achieve a depth of understanding and a degree of clarity in writing that I can't obtain in any other way. Most of the time when I set out to write a blog post, the full idea isn't completely formed in my mind. The process of writing brings the idea to fruition. 

Stafford continues with a point that touches upon one of the major obstacles I face from time to time: the unwillingness to allow myself to "fail":

I must be willing to fail. If I am to keep on writing, I cannot bother to insist on high standards. I must get into action and not let anything stop me, or even slow me much. By "standards" I do not mean "correctness" spelling, punctuation, and so on. These details become mechanical for anyone who writes for a while. I am thinking about such matters as social significance, positive values, consistency, etc. ... I resolutely disregard these. Something better, greater, is happening! I am following a process that leads so wildly and originally into new territory that no judgment can at the moment be made about values, significance, and so on. I am making something new, something that has not been judged before. Later others -- and maybe I myself -- will make judgments. Now, I am headlong to discover. Any distraction may harm the creating.

I write best when I'm not worried about meeting my self-imposed standards. I have learned to ignore my inner need to write chidushim (innovations), or posts of "importance," or posts that people will care about. The ability to do this has not come easily. I have written about this struggle at length in Playing with Torah and Am I Qualified to Write this Blog? 

Chazal (Avos 4:1) teach: "ein ha'bayshan lomeid" ("One who is embarrassed doesn't learn"). If you wish to advance when learning with your rebbi, with your chavrusa, or even by yourself, you must be willing to "fail." I use the quotation marks because I don't consider this to be a failure. To realize that you've erred is a success, since it allows you to move closer to the truth.

When I write a blog post, I know it's possible that I'll make mistakes - but if I allowed this to stop me, then my writing would suffer, and so would my learning. (And so would the readers who gain from what I write.)

Stafford concludes with a beautiful summary of the activity of writing:

[Writing] itself is one of the great, free human activities. There is scope for individuality, and elation, and discovery, in writing. For the person who follows with trust and forgiveness what occurs to him, the world remains always ready and deep, an inexhaustible environment, with the combined vividness of an actuality and flexibility of a dream. Working back and forth between experience and thought, writers have more than space and time can offer. They have the whole unexplored realm of human vision.

I thrive off of this experience of freedom in the process of writing. This is what allows me to sit down and write in an uninterrupted flow for hours on end. The joy of intellectual exploration and expression is intoxicating.

Richard Mitchell: Writing for Self-knowledge

The third and final excerpt is from a speech given by one of my favorite writers, Richard Mitchell. The speech, entitled Writing Against Your Life (1986), was given by Mitchell at a writers' conference in Southern Carolina. This speech became the basis of Richard Mitchell's greatest book, The Gift of Fire (1999), which is one of my favorite books of all time.

I am really tempted to excerpt the entire speech, but I'm afraid that will make this post appear too long. Here is the conclusion of the speech, which is my favorite part. I encourage you to read the whole thing, if you have time. Bear in mind that Mitchell was speaking to aspiring writers:

I am talking here of course of the kind of writing that I do. I don't write fiction, I don't know how to write fiction; I don't make characters, I don't know how to make characters; I don't have plots, I don't know how to make plots--all I do is try to think on the page--but I have read numbers of the works of those who makes plots, and write fiction, and know how to do that, and there is no difference. There is no difference there whatsoever. They make, insofar as they can, the truth. They make true human beings, who in true human predicaments, seek the truth for themselves. They make there all of the agony and joy, both, that it is to be a human being, coming into self-knowledge or suffering in its lack. As a matter of fact they make it far better than any discursive writer -- like this one -- can do, and they make it in drama, and they make it in lit, and they make it in living before our eyes, and it is the search for truth ... and whether or not you know, the difference between a good book and a bad book, I don't know -- and I don't know the difference between a good book and a bad book -- but you do know the difference between a true book and a false book. That is the real distinction. And if you will think about it a false book is whoring, or a false book is parroting; or a false book is a book in which the author -- I loved what you said about this this morning, Jane -- you write for yourself. And it goes further: I think you write because of yourself. It is you who are illuminated by what you write; and what is the nature of that illumination? It has one simple name -- although the terms underneath the name are numerous and complicated -- and that is self-knowledge ...

Now, if you take up writing seriously, I can't promise this, but I can hope this: I hope that it will make you profoundly unhappy. I hope that every day will bring you some bad news from the frontier of that unknown territory in which you work. I hope every day you rise up from your desk and say, "God, what a fool I was yesterday!" So that you can say that again tomorrow. And thus write against your life.  

There was a very popular whoring book around lately -- I don't know, it hasn't been for some time, I can't remember when, it was called "I'm Okay" -- uh, something -- "I'm Okay, You're Okay." Oh, what pleasant news. Believe me, you'll never lose money by telling people how nice they are. You'll never lose money by telling people, "Hey! Don't worry about your miserable rotten behavior and your perversions, and your lies, and your thefts! You're okay!" No one will blame you for this, and you may actually do quite well. I don't know about you -- I suspect, but I don't know about you -- however I will tell you this: I am not okay. I am not okay. I do not carefully define my terms when I think. I do not test, rigidly, as though I were a stranger, every one of my quaint and curious notions, prejudices, and beliefs, I do not do this, I am not okay. I lie. Whether I lie to you is none of your damn business; I lie to me, as to what I am and how it is in me. And I am not okay. (And I don't think you're okay either, but all I can do is suspect that.)  

Okayness does not ever come; I'm sure of that. But writing is the path towards it, and it's a path that hurts.  

The main point of the gift of Prometheus (i.e. the gift of mind), I think, is this. He made of us, with that gift -- by the way I'm a literal fundamentalist where the myth of Prometheus is concerned, you'll understand -- but by that gift, he made us absolutely unique in the universe, as far as we know. Before, all blindly floundering on, which is roughly as Aeschylus puts it, we were like the zebras, or the gnus (it's always good to mention the gnus): When bumped from the left, we veered to the right. And when bumped from the right, we veered to the left. We responded, perhaps very successfully as the zebras and the gnus do, matter of fact; but in a sense we lived what I think of as a satellite life. We lived, really, like moons. The moon ... shines. But not of herself. The moon is beautiful, but her beauty is provided for us by another power, the sun. The sun ... the sun does the sun. We do not see the sun by reflected light, we see the sun by its own light, and the day after Prometheus gave us that gift we who were satellites, creatures like others, entirely -- flowing -- where influence came, we became a new creature, something entirely different, all of us. You, you, you did. From having been a moon, you became a sun. The energy is in you. It starts in here. It has its home, its dwelling place, in here. Not in the world. Not in society. Not in your family. Not in your political party. Not in your church -- here is the life, and here is the light. Who of us knows that light? And who of us knows much about it? Damn few.  

Any serious work that a human being does must be looking for this light. And if you don't find this light, you will be able to write, and to be a writer -- either as a parrot or a whore, of course. But you'll never find the truth. Perhaps you'll never miss it, as a matter of fact I think the worst of them don't. But you will miss it. Because I am telling you this. I am a very arrogant schoolteacher; when people sit before me as though they are students, I imagine that they want to hear what I have to say and so I tell them what I have to say, and I tell them that because I have told you this, now you must be different, or deliberately reject some light. Go ahead and do that, if you will. But if you do pursue it, if you take this step from unknowing into knowing, you do walk a dangerous, perhaps even a deadly path; but it's the only path. I encourage no one to do this. But those of you who do it, and will do it, I will tell you this -- and I will tell you this as a command, because you can walk out now before you hear this command, but I'm going to give you this command:  

Don't -- shine.  

Don't seek to shine.  

Burn.

Wow! The first time I read this, I felt like Mitchell was speaking directly to me. He made me realize why I am driven to write: I write to know myself. I write because writing allows me to get my beliefs, values, and feelings out there, on paper (or a screen), at arm's length, so that I can examine them and get to know who I am - and by doing this, become a better person. 

Seneca

At the beginning of this post I mentioned that I used to be obsessed with tracking the number of readers I had, and that this obsession gradually wore off. Somewhere along the way I came across a quotation from Seneca in Letter #7 which explained to me why I became less focused on the number of readers:

Equally good is the answer given by the person, whoever it was (his identity is uncertain), who when asked what was the object of all the trouble he took over a piece of craftsmanship when it would never reach more than a very few people, replied: “A few is enough for me; so is one; and so is none.”

The more I have developed as a writer, the more this statement has resonated with me. All of the writing-motives I've listed here - Stafford's, Mitchell's, and in my case, even Orwell's - are selfish motives. I write primarily for myself, and although there is more potential for constructive criticism when more readers read by writing, the act of writing is something I do by myself, and for myself. Thus, even if nobody reads what I have written - and believe me, I've labored for hours on posts which have never seen the light of day - then the effort was still worthwhile for all of the aforementioned reasons. 

Conclusion

I laughed just now because I know that this is one of the blog posts I write which will get fewer readers than average ... and I really don't care! And that makes me happy! 

Here I have outlined three of my reasons for writing, at this stage of my life. Moreover, my writing of these three reasons is in line with these three reasons. This post was written to make a point about writing (political), and to help me clarify my thoughts about writing (discovery), and to help me come to terms with why I write (self-knowledge). 

That, to my mind, makes this a successful blog post. And with all due respect to my readers, my mind matters to me the most. :)

Bears, Veils, and the Bubble of Judaism

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Artwork: Savage Punch, by Wesley Burt

Bears, Veils, and the Bubble of Judaism

Introduction

I recently listened to a two-part episode of the NPR podcast Invisibilia on the topic of Reality. Here is NPR's summary:

How is it that two neighbors can look out their window at the exact same thing, and see something completely different? This is a question many people in America are asking now. We explore it by visiting a small community in Minnesota, called Eagle's Nest Township, that has a unique experience with the reality divide: some of the people in the town believe that wild black bears are gentle animals you can feed with your hands, and others think they are dangerous killers. This divide leads to conflict and, ultimately, a tragic death. So, is there a "real" truth about the bear, or is each side constructing its own reality? In part two we look at attempts to escape these self-made constructs. We follow one man's epic experiment to break out of his reality bubble. And one woman's epic-in-its-own-way experiment to break out of her species bubble!

To fully appreciate this blog post I recommend listening to Part 1 of that podcast. Alternatively, here is a link to the full transcript. I will now summarize the main points.

Bears: Peaceful or Dangerous?

The overarching question addressed by the podcast, as formulated by the podcasters, is: "So what is it that makes two people look out the window at the exact same thing and see something completely different? What's in their head that's causing that?"

One of the central subjects of this podcast is Lynn Rogers - a bear biologist who "sees himself as a slayer of myths." Rogers firmly believes that the notion that black bears are dangerous is completely false, and is largely the result of decades of propaganda. "The whole way we think about black bears is a lie - that our culture created a concept of bears as fierce predators so hunters can feel brave." Rogers says, "I think of bears as the modern dragon. In medieval times, people believed in dragons to prove their courage ... Now we know there's no such thing as a dragon, and they needed something to play that role."

Rogers really lives by this theory. He began by approaching black bears when they wandered into town; he then started moving towards them in the wild; then he started making "making friends" by establishing bonds of familiarity with specific bears; then he began feeding them from his hand; eventually he allowed them to "kiss him" by feeding them food (e.g. pecans) from his own mouth and letting them lick his face. Rogers soon gathered a following of like-minded individuals who accepted his theory, emulated his ways, and participated in these intimate interactions with wild bears. The more people he won over to his theory, the more people became convinced of his view.

Lynn Rogers "kissing" a bear

Meanwhile, a large number of scientists and organizations voiced strong opposition to the message preached by Rogers, and warned his followers that they were courting death. The podcasters report that the consensus among bear experts was: "Yes, wild black bears are for the most part timid creatures. And despite their large numbers, have only killed around 70 people in North America since 1900, but still. They're wild, unpredictable animals with the power to do enormous harm. I mean, they have actually killed 70 people in North America since 1900."

The podcasters raised the question: What is the reality here? According to Rogers, the reality is that black bears are not dangerous, and it is only our prejudices, our fear, and our actions which create the perception of danger and provoke the bears to attack. Rogers supports his claim by pointing to the many peaceful bear encounters he has had, and he dismisses the instances of injury as flukes which came about because of human error. According to his detractors, the reality is that black bears are extremely dangerous. The cases of injury and bear attacks are the norm, and the peaceful interactions touted by Rogers are the flukes; they got lucky, but their luck is bound to run out.

After stating this question, the podcasters refer us to Emily Balcetis, a psychologist "who studies perception." The following explanation is offered:

There's so much more information out in the world than we can handle at any given point in time ... A lot of what is coming into our system isn't perfectly clear to us. It's ambiguous. So ambiguous that basically we just have to guess what's going on ... And here's the point of all this: most of the time as we walk through the world, that is what we're actually looking at, not just the thing in front of us but also the concepts in our heads ... Each side is literally seeing something different unfold ... So even though it feels like we're seeing reality, none of us is.

The podcasters take this one step further, citing another psychologist named Richard Nisbett:

INTERVIEWER: Nisbett studies reasoning and errors in reasoning. And in our conversation, he told us something that helped me see the story differently. He says this need we have to find the right or the wrong of whatever we're looking at - that's just a cultural habit baked into the logic system handed down to us from the Greeks.

NISBETT: At the base of Western reasoning are some principles like A is A and not A, and both A and not A can't be the case.

INTERVIEWER: So either black bears are dangerous or they're not dangerous. They can't be both dangerous and not dangerous at the same time because that's a contradiction. And we're contradiction phobic.

NISBETT: Right.

INTERVIEWER: But Nisbett says this isn't the only way to look at the world. For instance, in Chinese philosophy and in much of East Asian cultures today...

NISBETT: The assumption is that if there is contradiction, both may be right or both may be wrong and each side should move toward the middle.

So who is correct: Rogers, or the majority of bear experts? The podcasters do not explicitly take a stance - perhaps because by doing so they would be giving in to this "Greek/Western prejudice."

The Allegory of the Veils

At first I balked at the notion proposed by Balcetis and Nisbett. To me, it sounded as though they were denying objective truth/reality and giving into a worldview of subjectivism and relativism and all of its evils and stupidities. 

Upon further consideration I realized that perhaps they were making a more subtle point: not that there is no objective reality, but that we delude ourselves about the objectivity of our own perception of objective reality. We harbor an exaggerated sense of our own objectivity which, ironically, impairs our ability to perceive objective reality. In other words, reality is objective, but our perception of it is not as objective as we'd like to think. 

It was then that I recalled the Rambam's [1] mashal (allegory) of the veils, in the seventh chapter of Shemoneh Perakim:

In many places in the midrash and the aggadah, including some passages quoted in the Talmud, it is stated that some prophets "see" (i.e. know) God from behind many veils and others who "see" Him from behind fewer veils. The difference depends on the extent of their closeness to God and the level of their prophecy. Thus, it is said that Moshe saw God behind one clear and shining - namely, transparent - veil. This is what is meant by the expression that "he [Moshe] looked through the bright aspaklaria." The term "aspaklaria" refers to a lens made from a shining material like diamond or crystal.  

The intent of this statement is that, as explained in Chapter 2, there are intellectual perfections and psychological perfections. Conversely, there are intellectual imperfections (e.g. foolishness, naïveté, difficulty in understanding) and psychological imperfections (e.g. gluttony, pride, anger, wrath, brashness, the love for money, and the like). Indeed, there are many of these, and we have mentioned the way to distinguish them in Chapter 4. 

All these imperfections are the veils that separate between man and God. This was alluded to in the prophet’s statement, "It is your avonos (iniquities) that separate between you and your God" (Yeshayahu 59:2). "Your avonos" - namely, the aforementioned imperfections, are the veils that separate between us and Him. 

Hashem is the true Reality (with an uppercase "R"). The only way we know Him is through knowledge of the reality (with a lowercase "r") that He created - a knowledge we obtain through our study of the Torah and our study of the world. The point of the Rambam's mashal is that our perception of this reality - and therefore, of the true Reality - is colored, distorted, and blocked by the "veils" of our intellectual and psychological imperfections. 

Like Balcetis and Nisbett, the Rambam is not denying objective reality, nor is he denying our ability to perceive objective reality. Rather, he is saying that our perception of objective reality will always be tainted by our imperfections and limitations. Even Moshe Rabbeinu, who comprehended reality to the greatest extent possible for a human being, nevertheless had a veil which clouded his perception of Hashem, simply by virtue of the fact that Moshe was a physical being.

Judaism's Approach to the Veils

We have discussed the nature and purpose of Torah many times. According to the Ralbag [2], Torah is "a God-given regimen that brings those who practice it properly to true success." By "true success" the Ralbag [3] means "knowing and comprehending Hashem (via knowing and comprehending reality) to the extent that is humanly possible." 

Before hearing this podcast, if you had asked me to explain in the terminology of the Veil Allegory what the Torah (i.e. Judaism) is doing, I would have answered: "The Torah helps us remove as many veils as possible, thereby bringing us closer and closer to an accurate and complete comprehension of reality." But after listening to this podcast, I think I have a slightly different understanding. 

Let's take another look at the quotation from Emily Balcetis, with a different emphasis than last time: 

There's so much more information out in the world than we can handle at any given point in time ... A lot of what is coming into our system isn't perfectly clear to us. It's ambiguous. So ambiguous that basically we just have to guess what's going on ... And here's the point of all this: most of the time as we walk through the world, that is what we're actually looking at, not just the thing in front of us but also the concepts in our heads ... Each side is literally seeing something different unfold ... So even though it feels like we're seeing reality, none of us is.

This led me to the following realization: It is true that the Torah's ultimate goal is to remove the veils, but one of the ways the Torah does this is by imposing its own set of veils - veils which block out certain aspects of reality, but guide us towards a life which, in the long run, enables us to have a clearer picture of reality. (If this point isn't quite clear yet, then bear with me while I develop it.)

Bubbles and Judaism

This thought was further crystallized when I listened to Part 2 of the podcast, which dealt with the phenomenon of informational "bubbles." Here is an excerpt from an interview with Max Hawkins, a Google employee who lives in San Francisco: 

HAWKINS: I was lying on my bed, and I was looking up at the ceiling. I just started thinking about these loops that we get into, about how, like, the structure of your life completely determines what happens in it. 

INTERVIEWER: You work at Company X, which is Y miles from your home. You must commute from where you live to where you work, which puts you on a path that limits your exposure to people outside that path. 

HAWKINS: The people inside the bubble get closer to you, and the people outside get further away. 

INTERVIEWER: It was a beautiful bubble. But still... 

HAWKINS: There's something about that that just made me feel trapped, like I was reading a story that I'd read before or I was playing out someone else's script.

Hawkins and the podcasters viewed these bubbles as an intrinsically bad thing. Without a doubt there are downsides to living in a bubble. The person in the bubble has an extremely limited - and therefore, distorted - view of reality, which the bubble itself inhibits that person from recognizing and overcoming.

Upon hearing this I thought about the fact that the Torah is definitely set up to create a bubble. Think about it:

• We aren't allowed to do certain actions (e.g. the 365 Torah prohibitions, and all of the Rabbinic restrictions which reinforce those prohibitions). 
• We aren't allowed to say certain types of speech (e.g. gossip, harmful speech, heretical speech).
• We aren't allowed to be involved in certain types of relationships (sexually, and by extension, romantically - and sometimes even socially). 
• We aren't allowed to hold certain beliefs or involve ourselves in certain types of thoughts (e.g. believing in other gods, denying the fundamentals of Torah, giving in to our curiosity by idly musing about idolatrous belief systems).
• When the Torah system is fully functioning in Eretz Yisrael, we aren't even exposed to certain practices or people (e.g. all vestiges of avodah zarah - idolatry - are destroyed and those who worship avodah zarah are barred from the country, the Seven Nations and Amalek are wiped out, all types of sorcery, divination, and occult practices are abolished).

These restrictions contribute to a bubble which is far more limited than that of the Google employee living in San Francisco. But the Torah-bubble is not a bad thing. Why not? Because the Torah is trying to limit our exposure to phenomena that strengthen our "veils" in order to carve out a life that is conducive to removing them. Instead of abandoning us to wander aimlessly in the sea of myriad particulars and leaving us with the impossible task of figuring out how to make sense out of the ambiguity on our own, Hashem gave us a regimen which expediently moves us away from avenues of life that would obscure our perception of reality and places us firmly in a "bubble" of routines, restrictions, and practices which promote our life and development as truth-seekers. 

[Note: I am NOT saying that this is the ONLY purpose of halacha. I'm just pointing out ONE of the benefits of the Torah's bubble-forming restrictions, in light of the Allegory of the Veils and these two podcasts.]

Consider the last example in the bullet points above. Does the Torah's ban on avodah zarah in Eretz Yisrael create a bubble? Yes. Is the Jew in Eretz Yisrael being deprived of exposure to the worldview of the oveid avodah zarah (idolater), which would be eye-opening because of how drastically different it is from his own? Yes. But do these restrictions harm him? Absolutely not. To the contrary - allowing avodah zarah into the country would only create the potential for people to become attracted to its ideas, it's practices, and its worldview, thereby increasing and solidifying the veils of Eretz Yisrael's inhabitants. 

The same goes for all of the other experiences and phenomena which are prohibited by Judaism: by preventing us from experiencing particular aspects of reality which would generate intellectual and psychological imperfections, the Torah increases our chances of developing a clearer perception of reality than we would have, if left to our own devices. 

My chavrusa made the analogy to people who experience trauma (e.g. veterans with PTSD, victims of abuse, those who suffer from depression). In all of these cases, there are certain areas of reality which these individuals should not be exposed or think about, since this would contributed to a warped and harmful view of reality for them. In some cases, these areas of reality can be cautiously approached with the proper therapeutic tools; in other cases, they should be completely avoided. In these cases, attempting to "strip away the veils" in an effort to "expose these people to reality" would lead to severe setbacks in their ability to perceive truth. Likewise, it would be foolish to "unveil" these areas of reality with the allegedly noble goal of "breaking these people out of their bubbles." 

The Torah recognizes that all human beings - not just those who suffer from trauma - are in a similarly precarious situation vis a vis our ability to perceive reality. Yes, our ability to perceive reality is that fragile, and such caution is warranted.

The Limits of Bubble Diversity as a Liberating Path

There's another point here that is worth mentioning. In Part 2 of the podcast the Google employee who yearned to escape his bubble came up with a creative solution: he designed an app that would send him to random public events throughout San Francisco. Every Friday night his app would accept an invitation on Facebook to a random event hosted by random people in a random location (in or around San Francisco). He would go there, surrender himself to the new experience, and usually walk away with a fresh new view on reality.

Thrusting oneself into a diverse range of bubbles definitely has its advantages. Yet, when I heard this Google employee speak about his desire to sample other people's bubbles, I sensed an underlying belief on his part that by increasing the diversity of his experiences, he could break free from the very phenomenon of "bubbles" altogether. In other words, it seemed as though he believed that the more bubble-hopping he did, the closer he came to the ideal of "The Unbubbled Human" - a true citizen of the world who could look at reality objectively, unlike the vast majority of his brethren. 

In my opinion, this approach is fueled by a fantasy, and is ultimately futile.

Yes, there is an ideal of "the objective human intellect," as acknowledged by the Rambam in his Allegory of the Veils. Moshe Rabbeinu came as close to embodying this ideal as humanly possible. The fantasy is that this ideal can be reached through exposure to a diversity of experience. This approach fails for at least three reasons.

The first reason why this method won't work is because the number of bubbles is virtually limitless. Each country has its own bubble. Each city has its own bubble. Each religion has its own bubble. Each sect has its own bubble. Each culture has its own bubble. Each time period has its own bubble. Each family has its own bubble. Each person has his or her own bubble. And so on. And even if man lived forever it would still be impossible to experience all of the bubbles, since the world is constantly changing. Thus, the pursuit of new bubbles to experience is infinite - not in a good way, but in a Koheles way.

Secondly, there is the problem of breadth of experience vs. depth of experience. The person who spends five years visiting 500 communities will gain from exposure to a wide variety of experiences, but the person who spends five years immersed in the lifestyle of a single community will gain a depth of experience that no bubble-jumper will ever be able to grasp. To think that the bubble sampler can "get the gist" of these new cultures is to cheapen them and to degrade the value they have to offer - a crime that no diversity-advocate would ever want to commit.

Lastly, there is illusory bubble of bubble-transcendence. (Yes, you read that right.) This is best explained by way of analogy to the impact of the Internet on mankind's knowledge. At the dawn of the Information Age there were optimistic people who believed that the ability for ALL people to access ALL information and connect to ALL places in the world would lead to a truly global community with a global consciousness. This connectivity and collaboration would cause truth to rise to the top. What actually happened is that people formed their own bubbles online, despite their unfettered access to nearly limitless amounts of information. The difference between the pre-Internet Age bubble dwellers and the Internet Age bubble dwellers is that the latter think they have transcended their bubbles, and are oblivious to the fact that they are just as bubbled as the next guy. Similarly, the bubble-jumper is prone to think that he or she has transcended the phenomenon of bubbles entirely. In truth, human beings are predisposed to create our own bubble wherever we goes, regardless of how much information we are exposed to.  

For these three reasons (and probably more) the Torah takes a different approach to bubbles. Rather than attempting to dissolve bubbles by encouraging diversity of exposure, the Torah imposes its own bubble in the form of a regimen designed to equip people with the qualities and skills that will enable them to see past their bubbles. Instead of fighting against the human tendency to form bubbles, the Torah harnesses this tendency and gives it form and structure through halacha. 

Concluding Thoughts

As is the case with many of these personal "Aha!"-moment blog posts, I don't know whether other people will find this idea to be as eye-opening as I did. Perhaps these points are obvious, and I just didn't notice them until now. Perhaps I experienced a "click" upon reading this because of where I'm at in my own learning. 

But as Rabbeinu Bachya ibn Paquda pointed out, if those who doubt the value of their insights chose not to share them because of excuses like this, we'd lose out on a LOT of knowledge. I'd rather err on the side of sharing rather than keep things to myself. After all, this is why I started this blog in the first place.

For me, there are two major takeaways from this NPR podcast:

1. Judaism's goal is to remove veils, but often imposes its own veils towards that end.
2. Judaism deals with the human need to create bubbles (and the futility of trying to escape them) by imposing its own bubble which gives us the best odds of thinking outside of our bubbles.

These two points led to even more insights which I discussed with my chavrusas, but for the sake of the unity of this post, I will save those for another time.

[1] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Commentary on the Mishnah: Introduction to Avos (a.k.a. Shemoneh Perakim), Chapter 7

[2] Rabbeinu Levi ben Gershom (Ralbag / Gersonides), Commentary on the Torah: Introduction

[3] Rabbeinu Levi ben Gershom (Ralbag / Gersonieds), Commentary on Sefer Iyov, Chapter 34