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Conversations with non-Jewish English Teachers
Last week I attended a week-long professional development program for English teachers. Over the course of the week I found myself confronted with a number "culture clash" moments, in which I was confronted by the stark differences between by the intellectual world of my Torah learning and the world inhabited by these non-Jewish, highly educated, predominantly white, "coastal elite" group of English teachers. I'd like to write about three of the insights I had.
Ideas vs. People
One of the in-class exercises we did involved reading and analyzing the claims and arguments made by Michael Levin in his article, "The Case for Torture." I was paired with two other teachers. One of the teachers suggested that we look up when the article was written in order to get a better idea of the rhetorical situation. We agreed that this was a good idea. The other teacher looked up Michael Levin on Wikipedia to find the answer. As he scrolled down to find information about the article, this is what he saw:
After skimming the Wikipedia entry, this teacher huffed: "Oh, so he was a capitalist, misogynistic homophobe." Because I wasn't exactly sure where he was going with this, I hesitantly asked: "But ... we're not factoring that into our analysis of his arguments, right?" to which the teacher replied with a seriously baffled expression on his face: "Why not?"
What I wanted to say was: "Why not? Because these things have nothing to do with his arguments on torture! Not only that, but all you did was read these wiki-sourced summaries. You haven't even bothered to understand his arguments and you've already labeled him as 'an enemy' and are poised to interpret the ideas in his article based on that label!"
Before I could respond, the other teacher chimed in and agreed with me, saying: "I could understand if we found out that this author worked for the CIA or if he somehow profited off of his position on torture, since these facts might actually be relevant to our analysis of his argument, but I don't see what his positions on feminism, economics, or homosexuality have to do with his position on the use of torture." I bit my tongue and nodded in agreement.
This conversation reminded me of the Rambam's famous adage: "kabel ha'emes mi'mi she'omro [1] - accept the truth from whoever says it" (which I wrote about extensively in my article: Rambam: On Not Citing Sources). I was also reminded of Rav Soloveitchik's view [2] on the designation of mach'chish magideha [3] - those who repudiate the baalei Mesorah (transmitters of the Oral Tradition). The Rav suggested that this label applies not only those who actively challenge the halachic authority of the baalei Mesorah, but even extends to those who insinuate that the views of the baalei Mesorah were the products of their emotions, their personalities, or their circumstances, rather than their knowledge and understanding of Torah.
These guiding principles of methodology are really two sides of the same coin. Both emphasize the importance of analyzing ideas based on their merit, rather than treating them as the byproducts of "influences on people" (as I wrote about in Musings on the Academic Approach). This isn't to say that human beings can't be influenced by other factors. However, to make such an assumption about the statements of Chazal is to undermine their wisdom, understanding, and knowledge.
Don't get me wrong: I'm not equating the likes of Rebbi Akiva and the Rambam with a columnist writing about torture in the 1980's. My point is that those who are trained in the authentic methods of talmud Torah (Torah learning) would never make a move like this English teacher did, recognizing that this line of reasoning would shift the inquiry towards people, and away from ideas. This might be relevant in a history class, but not a class which purports to analyze ideas and arguments.
Rogerian Argument
These guiding principles of methodology are really two sides of the same coin. Both emphasize the importance of analyzing ideas based on their merit, rather than treating them as the byproducts of "influences on people" (as I wrote about in Musings on the Academic Approach). This isn't to say that human beings can't be influenced by other factors. However, to make such an assumption about the statements of Chazal is to undermine their wisdom, understanding, and knowledge.
Don't get me wrong: I'm not equating the likes of Rebbi Akiva and the Rambam with a columnist writing about torture in the 1980's. My point is that those who are trained in the authentic methods of talmud Torah (Torah learning) would never make a move like this English teacher did, recognizing that this line of reasoning would shift the inquiry towards people, and away from ideas. This might be relevant in a history class, but not a class which purports to analyze ideas and arguments.
Rogerian Argument
One of the popular methods for analyzing certain types of non-fiction texts is the "Rogerian Argument" framework. The textbook The Language of Composition (2018 edition) summarizes this approach as follows:
Another approach to argument is known as the Rogerian method, named for twentieth-century psychologist Carl Rogers, who stressed the importance of replacing confrontational argument tactics with ones that promote negotiation, compromise, and cooperation. Rogerian argumentation is particularly appropriate and useful for arguments on controversial subjects that for some are matters of belief - such as the death penalty, abortion, gun control, or the place of prayer or the teaching of evolution by natural selection in schools. Rogerian arguments are based on the assumption that having a full understanding of an opposing position is essential to responding to it persuasively and refuting it in a way that is accommodating rather than alienating. The key component of the Rogerian approach is finding common ground on which the speaker and an audience that holds opposing beliefs can both stand. The speaker must show that he or she has everyone's interest in mind, and thus be sympathetic to the audience's point of view. Ultimately, the goal is not necessarily to win the argument, but to reach a compromise through which both speaker and audience will feel that they have gained ground.As my non-Jewish colleagues voiced the difficulties they've had with getting their students to grok this approach, I thought to myself, "This is what we do every day!" When learning Gemara, halacha, and even Tanach, we approach any machlokes (disagreement) with the premise that both disputants are chachamim (wise), and each of them has a logical, conceptual, insightful view derived from the common pool of data which was known and accepted by both parties. When we analyze a machlokes, we first try to understand wherein the two sides agree, and we assume that they share more in common than they disagree on. Although we differ from the Rogerian model in that we aren't trying to reach a "compromise," we are, in most cases, more interested in understanding both sides than determining who "won" the argument - at least, in matters of theoretical understanding, if not practical application.
One of the first methodology books on how to learn Talmud was Darchei ha'Talmud, written by R' Yitzchak Kanpanton in the 14th century. Compare this excerpt to the aforementioned description of Rogerian Argument:
At the outset of your analysis assume, as the premise of your thought, that each of the speakers - whether the one asking a question or the one giving an answer - is an intelligent person, and that all of his words were stated with wisdom, understanding, and knowledge, and contain nothing that is twisted or crooked. Thus we say, "Are we dealing with fools?!" (Shevuos 48b). Therefore, you should analyze all of their words to see whether they are statements of reason, healthy and "as strong as a molten mirror" (Iyov 37:18), or whether they are "bland food eaten without salt," (ibid. 6:6) and weak statements, or whether they are statements which draw close to the intellect, or distance themselves from it. You must strive to bring near their words and to correct them in such a manner that they are pleasant, acceptable, and intellectually amenable, and you must not ascribe to them the iniquity and guilt of a dubious or weak explanation, because none of their words should fall to the ground, since all of them are divrei Elokim chayim (words of the living God) ... and in general, for every statement of the Oral Torah, you must analyze and know what they agree upon which unifies their view, and on what they differ.This is just a great example something that the non-Jewish world views as an innovation (reminder: Carl Rogers came up with his "Rogerian" approach in 1970!) which we've been practicing for millennia.
Talmudic Reading
Speaking of Talmudic methodology, I was reminded once again how many analytical skills are needed simply to read the text of the Talmud. My Gemara students are working with a text that has no vowels, punctuation, or paragraphs. The text is written in a language (Aramaic) that operates according to mysterious "rules" which only kinda parallel the other foreign language they're learning (Hebrew). The text assumes that they already have a tremendous breadth of background knowledge about diverse, often unrelated subjects. With each step they take, they have to figure out how to parse the phrases, to identify whether the phrase they're reading is a statement, proof, question, answer, difficulty, or resolution, etc. They must understand how the statement performs that function and fits into the larger give-and-take of the discussion. The discussion, itself, involves a high level of intellectual dexterity, involving every form of inference, derivation, induction, deduction, comparison, distinction, contradiction, refutation, identification of the premise, extrapolation to similar cases, etc., etc., etc. And all of this is necessary for a basic reading of the Talmud! We're not even talking about higher level types of Talmudic study!
This came up in the professional development session when we were learning another framework for analyzing argument, typically referred to as "the Toulmin model." This method was named after its innovator, the ancient sage Stephen Toulmin (1922 - 2009). Basically, you can take any argument and break it down into its component parts, in the following form:
Because (evidence as support), therefore (claim), since (assumption), on account of (backing), unless (reservation).In diagram form, it looks like this:
This might seem abstract until you apply it to a simple example. Let's say you're planning on leaving your house, and you suddenly realize, "Hey - it's raining! I should take my umbrella!" This realization is an argument, although we don't typically think of it as such. When analyzed using the Toulmin model, the argument looks like this:
Basic Form: Because it is raining, therefore, I should take my umbrella, since it will keep me dry.
Full Form: Because it is raining, therefore I should probably take my umbrella, since it will keep me dry on account of its waterproof material, unless, of course, it has a hole in it.In diagram form, it looks like this:
No doubt the reason why my fellow English teachers have had so much difficulty teaching this type of analysis to their students is because their students have never thought like this before! What reading or intellectual activity would they do in the normal course of their teenage lives which would demand such analytical rigor? Perhaps only those students who are on the debate team, or who devote their time and energy to debating in the comment sections on various parts of the Internet and social media.
In contrast, my own students will have practiced this type of thinking for several years by the time they enter my class. This type of analysis is Gemara 101, and even though they'll have to get used to the terminology, the mental moves will already be familiar to them.
Concluding Thoughts
In every weekday tefilah (prayer) we say: "You are the One Who graciously endows man with wisdom, and teaches man understanding." The question is: Why does it use the verb "graciously endow" when describing Hashem giving man wisdom, but "teaches" when describing His giving of understanding?
I don't have a complete answer to this question, but I know one thing for sure: God "teaches man understanding" by giving us the Torah, with its intellectually demanding system of halacha, and commanding us to learn it and master it. The skills of understanding gained through the basic study of Talmud places Jewish students far ahead of the average American citizen in their ability to think and understand.
[1] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Commentary on the Mishnah: Introduction to Avos (a.k.a. Shemoneh Perakim), Preface; see also Mishneh Torah: Sefer Zmanim, Hilchos Kiddush ha'Chodesh 17:25
[2] I have only heard this interpretation cited baal peh (orally), and do not know of a written source.
[3] ibid. Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha'Mada, Hilchos Teshuvah 3:8
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