Walk-through of Mishlei 15:5

I thought it might be a good idea to follow up yesterday's How to Learn Mishlei: a Step by Step Guide post with an example of the method in action. I was going to write up a new blog post when I remembered that I wrote a walk-through of a Mishlei pasuk back in 2012. I reread it, concluded that it has withstood the test of time, and decided to edit it for re-posting today. Enjoy!

Artwork: Despise, by Todd Lockwood

Walk-through of Mishlei 15:5

Introduction

This post is intended as a sample analysis of an "average" pasuk in Mishlei, using the five-step method outlined in How to Learn Mishlei: a Step by Step Guide. I say "average" because in truth, there is no average pasuk in Mishlei. Each pasuk is a little, unique, self-contained world of insight. I hope that this post succeeds in giving you a sample of that flavor. 

Without further ado, let us commence with the first phase!

Phase #1: Reading and Translation

Here is the text of our pasuk:

משלי טו:ה

אֱוִיל יִנְאַץ מוּסַר אָבִיו וְשֹׁמֵר תּוֹכַחַת יַעְרִם:

I'll begin by translating the unequivocal terms into English, but I'll leave the ambiguous phrases as transliterations for now. Here is the first attempt at translation:

An eveel will despise the discipline of his father, but a shomer-rebuke will gain ormah.

If I had to settle on a working translation at this point, it would probably look something like this:

A fool will despise the discipline of his father, but one who guards rebuke will become cunning.

But we must remember that this is only a working translation. It is important to remain flexible as we proceed through our analysis, and constantly revisit the original Hebrew to modify our translation. 

Now that we've read and translated our pasuk, it's time for the real analysis to begin!

Phase #2: Questions 

For the sake of thoroughness, I am going to spell out all of the questions in as much detail as I can. In addition to formulating the questions concisely (in bold), I will elaborate on all of them and try to explain the import of each one. As I see it, there are seven major questions: 

1. What is an "eveel"? Shlomo ha'Melech is the taxonomist of fools par excellence. His book features a whole cast of fool-characters, each plagued by a different type of foolishness: eveel, pesi, leitz, ksil, boor, chasar leiv, naar, atzel etc. Sometimes these terms are used in a technical sense with a specific definition; other times they are used generically and interchangeably. Sometimes the definition can (and should) be derived from the specific context; other times it must be derived from elsewhere in Mishlei. Sometimes it is absolutely necessary to know the definition of the fool in order to understand the main idea of the pasuk; other times, the fool is just being used to highlight one of his specific features (e.g. a particular habit he has, or an action he does, or an emotion he experiences), and it is not necessary to understand his nature in order to get the main idea of the pasuk. As you can see, there are no rules for how to approach this type of question. Follow your intuition, and hone it over time.
   
2. Why does the pasuk focus on the eveel's rejection of mussar av (his father's discipline), specifically? The second half of the pasuk seems to be talking about all rebuke, not just rebuke from one's father. If so, why does the first half of the pasuk zero in on rebuke from such a specific source?
   
3. What is the meaning of "shomer tochachah"? The word "shomer" means "to guard," "to keep," and "to watch over." It is an unusual term to use in relation to rebuke. One would expect the pasuk to say something like, "one who listens to rebuke" or "one who accepts rebuke." 
   
4. What is ormah? Just as Shlomo ha'Melech classifies fools, each according to their particular type of foolishness, he also classifies chachamim (wise people) according to their intellectual virtues. There are as many words for chachamim in Mishlei as there are for fools: chacham, navon, meivin, ish tevunos, yashar, arum, ish mezimos, etc. The "sometimes" and "other times" guidelines stated above (in Question #1) apply to these terms as well. In our pasuk, however, it seems that the meaning of ormah is central to the main idea, and we will need to precisely define what it means.
   
5. How does being a shomer-tochachah cause a person to gain ormah? Our pasuk posits a cause-and-effect relationship: if a person is a shomer-tochachah, he will gain ormah. How does this work? For example, let's say you rebuke me for being a reckless driver or for waiting until the last minute to study for tests. I can see how I would benefit from such a rebuke, but that benefit would be in terms of avoiding traffic accidents and bad grades - not in terms of "gaining ormah," which seems to be a much broader quality.
   
6. How is a shomer-tochachah the opposite of an eveel who rejects his father's discipline? This brings us to a huge methodology principle in Mishlei. The vast majority of Mishlei pesukim are to be viewed as a contrast in opposites; the content of the first half of the pasuk will, in some sense, be the opposite of the content of the second half. Sometimes it is obvious how the two halves are opposites, but in other cases, it seems that the two halves are slightly "off." In some cases, the first half seems to have absolutely nothing to do with the second half. When this happens, our goal is to figure out how to understand the pasuk such that we can grasp the oppositional symmetry. In our case, we can assume that the shomer-tochachah who gains ormah is the opposite of the eveel who rejects his father's discipline. The question is: How?
   
7. What is the subject of the pasuk? Every pasuk is about a specific subject, and unless you can identify that subject, you will not fully understand the pasuk. In this case, it is clear that the subject has something to do with rebuke, but it is unclear whether the subject is more specific than that. (Oftentimes the subject of the pasuk will emerge from thinking about how the two halves of the pasuk are opposites, but it's still a good idea to ask this question separately.) 

There is an eighth question that some people might wonder about: What is the difference between tochachah and mussar? I won't say that this is a bad question per se, but it's not the type of question I concern myself with. Almost all meforshim disregard such questions. The only exception is the Malbim, whose entire derech hinges on such subtleties of the pasuk's language. The other meforshim have no trouble with the notion that Shlomo ha'Melech employed synonyms, since that's the way normal people talk (a la dibrah Torah ki'lshon bnei adam - "the Torah speaks in the language of man"). For this reason, I don't treat questions like this as "major questions," nor do I assume that the main idea will emerge from scrutinizing such subtleties. Instead, I keep these types of questions in the back of my mind while I learn the pasuk. If they trigger my intuition, so be it. If not, no problem. If, after arriving at the main idea, I can see an added dimension reflected in the subtlety of the lashon, then that's great. If I can't, it doesn't bother me in the slightest. 

[At this point in the original blog post I wrote a blurb about Mishlei methodology. I wish I had remembered this blurb when writing yesterday's post, since yesterday's post covered much of the same material. In order to spare the regular readers of my blog from redundancy, I took this part out. If you're interested in reading it, I've included it as an addendum at the end of this post.]

Phase #3: Thinking

Much of this step is intuitive, which makes it hard to capture in writing. I will do my best to share the steps I took in my analysis of this pasuk to arrive at the main idea.

Three out of the seven questions we raised are "definition questions" (#1, #3, and #4), and since it is impossible to understand what the pasuk is saying until we understand what it is talking about, it seems like these questions are the logical place to start. 

I knew that out of all of Mishlei's terms for fools, "eveel" (lit. "fool") is the most generic. I sensed that for our purposes we wouldn't need to define the nature of the eveel. All we would need to know about the eveel is that he despises all discipline - a fact which is clear from many pesukim in Mishlei. For example: "Fear of Hashem is the beginning of knowledge, but eveelim scorn wisdom and discipline" (1:7) and "The way of the eveel is upright in his own eyes, but one who listens to counsel is wise" (12:15). Notice how this strengthens our Question #2. Considering the fact that the eveel, by definition, despises all discipline, then why does the pasuk specifically refer to his rejection of his father's discipline? 

The next step was to define "ormah" (lit. "cunning" or "cleverness") which I had done previously in my Mishlei learning. My working definition of "ormah" means knowledge and awareness of how emotions distort thinking. How did I arrive at this conclusion? By inferring the meaning of "ormah" and "arum" from their opposites: "pesayus" and "pesi," which refer (respectively) to a specific type of foolishness and the fool it characterizes, respectively. Let's do a quick overview of this type of foolishness.

Shlomo ha'Melech begins his book by stating that Mishlei is designed "to provide pesa'im with ormah" (1:4). Likewise, "When the scoffer is struck, the pesi gains ormah" (19:25). Throughout Mishlei, the pesi is contrasted with the arum. For example: "A pesi believes everything, but an arum understands every step" (14:15) and "An arum sees evil and hides, but the pesa'im transgress and are punished" (22:3). It is reasonable to conclude that by understanding who the pesi is and the type of knowledge/intelligence he lacks, we will understand ormah and what it means to become an arum.

Rabbeinu Yonah (on Mishlei 1:4), paraphrasing Chazal (Eiruvin 19a), defines pesi (lit. "one who is seduced") as "one who is mispateh b'yitzro" (lit. "seduces himself with his own inclination"). In other words, a pesi is someone whose convictions are heavily influenced by his emotions. To a pesi, what feels good is good, and what feels true is true. He is "seduced" by his psyche into thinking that his feelings and first impressions reflect reality, and he is oblivious to how his emotions distort his thinking. Rabbeinu Yonah (on Mishlei 1:22) says that if the pesi were aware of the distortion-capacity of his own emotions, he would not be so quick to jump to conclusions, and he would be much more careful in his thinking.

Thus, if "ormah" is what a pesi lacks and if an arum is the opposite of a pesi, it follows that ormah refers to knowledge and awareness of how emotions distort one's thinking. This quality of ormah can be used for the good, as it is throughout Mishlei, or it can be used for evil, as in the case of the snake in Gan Eden: "and the snake was more arum than all the beasts of the field" (Bereishis 3:1). The nachash used its ormah - its knowledge of how human emotions distort thinking - to lure Chavah into eating from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. 

Back to our pasuk. The most mysterious phrase here is "shomer tochachah." I thought about the clues I discovered when formulating the questions, namely: 

• We'd expect Mishlei to say "listens to rebuke" or "accepts rebuke," so "shomer tochachah" must mean something above and beyond that. (Question #3)
• Whatever "shomer tochachah" means, it must somehow lead to ormah. (Question #5)
• The shomer-tochachah who gains ormah is the opposite of the eveel who despises his father's discipline. (Question #6)
• If the eveel despises all rebuke, why does the pasuk focus on his rejection of mussar av (his father's discipline) in particular? (Question #2)

It was then that I had my "EUREKA!" moment - like the "click" on a luggage combination-lock - and the main idea rapidly unfolded from there. 

I realized that mussar av evokes a different type of emotional resistance than all other mussar, due to the special place that a father holds in a one's psyche. (I don't feel the need to support this with evidence or explanation; anyone who has been rebuked by his father knows what I'm talking about.) The eveel is oblivious to the uniqueness of this emotional reaction. Even though he reacts much harsher to his father's discipline than anyone else's, he will give no thought to this difference. Why? Because he lacks awareness of his own emotions - or, in Mishlei terminology, he lacks ormah. I realized that that is the subject of the first half of the pasuk: not the eveel's rejection of mussar in general, but rather, the eveel's lack of ormah as evidenced by the nature of his rejection of his father's mussar in particular. (Yeah, ya might want to read that sentence a few times.)

It follows, then, that the shomer-tochachah is someone who does have an awareness of his own emotions. A good sign that we are correct is that this is exactly what the pasuk says: "The shomer-tochachah will become an arum." In other words, the shomer tochachah will gain self-awareness and knowledge of own his emotions and their power to distort his thinking. This is when I knew I was on the right track.

I realized I was now in a position to define "shomer tochachah." How can a person relate to tochachah in a manner that will gain him an increased awareness of his own emotions? It must be by watching over his own emotional reactions to the tochachah he receives. By monitoring his inner world, he will gain knowledge and awareness of his own emotions (i.e. ormah). In other words, the shomer-tochachah doesn't just look to the tochachah as a way to improve his life in the localized area of decision-making which was the subject of the tochachah. Rather, he looks at the tochachah as a tremendous opportunity to learn about himself by analyzing his own reactions to being rebuked. This type of knowledge will benefit him in all areas of decision-making; awareness of his own emotions will help him to guard against distortions in his thinking, and he'll be more in tune with his own psychological needs and will be able to know what to pursue in his decision-making, thereby leading to healthier and more realistic decisions. 

I then realized that the root SH.M.R. here is not being used in the sense of "guard," "protect," or "keep," but in the sense of "examine," "watch over," or "monitor," as in "ve'haya lachem l'mishmeres ad arbah asar yom la'chodesh ha'zeh" (Shemos 12:6) which means "[The Pesach lamb] shall be yours for examination until the fourteenth day of this month." Thus, I decided to translate "shomer tochachah" as "one who monitors rebuke," meaning, "one who monitors, examines, and analyzes his own emotional response to the rebuke that he receives."

This is when the subject of the pasuk came clearly into focus. The subject of this pasuk is: rebuke as an opportunity for self-knowledge. The fool misses out on this opportunity, in addition to missing out on the benefit of listening to the rebuke itself. In contrast, the shomer-tochachah seizes this opportunity, in addition to implementing the rebuke in action. 

Phase #4: The Main Idea

Now we are in a position to concisely formulate the main idea. In this phase I try to do what I ask all of my students to do: state the main idea in 1-4 clear sentences. Here is my post-analysis translation of the pasuk, and my summary of the main idea, which became clearer once I began formulating it:

Mishlei 15:5: A fool rejects the discipline of his father, but one who monitors rebuke will become cunning.  

In order to successfully heed rebuke, one must approach it from two angles: (1) practicality (i.e. figuring out how to correct your actions and/or decision-making) and (2) psychology (i.e. continually monitoring and managing your emotional reaction to the rebuke in order to overcome the internal resistances to accepting it and implementing it). One who places the emphasis on the practical dimension of the rebuke will improve his life in that specific area of decision-making, but one who goes beyond that and focuses on the psychological dimension rebuke will gain the additional benefit of becoming cunning; that is to say, he will gain self-awareness and knowledge of his own psyche, which will benefit him in all areas of decision-making. In contrast, the fool not only “scorns [all] wisdom and discipline” (Mishlei 1:7), but he is so out of touch with his own emotions that he fails to recognize the nature of his own psychological resistances, as evidenced by the especial disdain he harbors towards his father’s discipline in particular. Consequently, he will suffer the localized consequences of ignoring the rebuke, as well as the widespread consequences of his lack of cunning. 

Now, if we stopped here, we would - at the very least - have a nice idea. But our goal is not only to learn nice ideas, but to learn from the teachings of Shlomo ha'Melech. In order to make sure we've accomplished this goal, we must conclude our analysis with the final phase.

Phase #5: Testing the Main Idea

Here is where we do our final check-over to see if we have actually understood the pasuk. 

• Does the idea make sense? Check. Not only does it make sense, but it resonates with my real-world experience, as all true ideas (ideally) should. 
• Did I answer all of the major questions? Check. 
• Does the pasuk read smoothly according to this idea, in a manner that expresses the idea without feeling forced? Check. 

Conclusion

And that, my friends, is a walk-through of a typical Mishlei pasuk! I hope this was helpful not only in understanding how I arrived at this particular idea, but in demonstrating my approach to Mishlei in general. Let me know what you thought of this idea, and the "walk-through" format of this blog post. If this is something people want, maybe I'll do more in the future!

Addendum: Methodology - How to Learn Mishlei

Before we analyze our pasuk, I'd like to state a brief preface about methodology in Mishlei. My Mishlei rebbi once told me that the purpose of methodology serves two purposes: (1) to set up the facts prior to thinking, and (2) to avoid logical mistakes in thinking. However, when it comes time for the actual thinking itself, "You should think as though there is no method." In other words, your mind should be totally free to explore and to be creative. In The Evolution of Physics, Albert Einstein and Leopold Infeld describe the transition from the stage of fact gathering to the stage of thinking: 

In nearly every detective novel since the admirable stories of Conan Doyle there comes a time where the investigator has collected all the facts he needs for at least some phase of his problem. These facts often seem quite strange, incoherent, and wholly unrelated. The great detective, however, realizes that no further investigation is needed at the moment, and that only pure thinking will lead to a correlation of the facts collected. So he plays his violin, or lounges in his armchair enjoying a pipe, when suddenly, by Jove, he has it! Not only does he have an explanation for the clues at hand, but he knows that certain other events must have happened. Since he now knows exactly where to look for it, he may go out, if he likes, to collect further confirmation for his theory.

That is exactly how I experience the learning of Mishlei. First comes the fact-gathering step, in which the focus is on understanding how to read the words in the pasuk. This is followed by a question step, in which the major questions and problems are identified and clearly articulated. Sometimes these steps are sequential, and sometimes they overlap, but both are necessary at the beginning, before the analysis can commence. Otherwise, one runs the risk of projecting preconceived notions onto the pasuk and missing out on what Shlomo ha'Melech is trying to teach. Also, if you don't take the time to articulate your questions in advance, you run the risk of getting so caught up in your idea that you fail to realize that you've neglected to answer a glaring problem in the pasuk. 

After the initial steps of "the facts" and "the questions" are done, now comes the period of thinking. How the thinking and analysis plays itself out is unpredictable and highly individualized, based on the intuition of each thinker. Once your mind sees a possible idea or approach, explore that idea freely and see where it leads. If it helps, you can think about the idea in conjunction with the pasuk. Personally, I find that it's best to temporarily forget about the pasuk and develop the idea on its own terms.

Once your mind is on the trail of an idea and you've found a good possibility or even a partial possibility (a "kernel" or a "glimmer of an idea," as I sometimes say), you can then return to the pasuk to see whether you have, indeed, figured out what Shlomo ha'Melech is teaching in the pasuk. At this point, it is beneficial to see which of your major questions you have answered and which remain to be answered. You may also find that you'll need to rework the facts in light of your idea. Be prepared to change the entire manner in which you initially read the pasuk. 

The interplay between facts, questions, thinking, and testing can go up and back and around in cycles. That's totally natural and fine. The main thing is to make sure that you've covered all four bases: that your facts are solid, your questions are precise and answered, your idea is clear and makes sense, and that it flows from the words in the pasuk without being forced.

Once you have succeeded in arriving at a clear idea which naturally flows from the pasuk and answers your major questions AND you can clearly see the application and relevance of this idea to real-world decision-making (which is the subject of Mishlei), then you can say: "I understand this pasuk." And if you can clearly summarize your interpretation of the pasuk in four sentences or less and provide an actual real-world example, then you would receive an "A" in my high school Mishlei class!

Freud: On Torah mi'Sinai

Sigmund Freud was not a religious Jew. To the contrary - he was avowedly anti-religious. He wrote several books on the subject: most notably, The Future of an Illusion (1927), Civilization and its Discontents (1930), and Moses and Monotheism (1939). Freud's opinion on religion can be summed up by these quotations:

"Religion is an illusion and it derives its strength from the fact that it falls in with our instinctual desires."

"Religion is comparable to a childhood neurosis." 

"Religion is an attempt to get control over the sensory world, in which we are placed, by means of the wish-world, which we have developed inside us as a result of biological and psychological necessities."

That said, it might come as a shock that Freud does a fine job giving over the proof of Torah mi'Sinai. 

That's right. By "the proof of Torah from Sinai" I am referring to the rational argument for the Torah's divine origin. If you're not familiar with the proof, I highly recommend reading this, or this, or this (in that order of priority). 

Here is an excerpt from Freud's Introductory Lectures on Psychoanlaysis (1916). Freud discusses an obstacle faced by psychoanalysis, in contrast to other medical practices: 

In medical training you are accustomed to see things. You see an anatomical preparation, the precipitate of a chemical reaction, the shortening of a muscle as a result of the stimulation of its nerves. Later on, patients are demonstrated before your senses-the symptoms of their illness, the products of the pathological process and even in many cases the agent of the disease in isolation. In the surgical departments you are witnesses of the active measures taken to bring help to patients, and you may yourselves attempt to put them into effect. Even in psychiatry the demonstration of patients with their altered facial expressions, their mode of speech and their behaviour, affords you plenty of observations which leave a deep impression on you. Thus a medical teacher plays in the main the part of a leader and interpreter who accompanies you through a museum, while you gain a direct contact with the objects exhibited and feel yourselves convinced of the existence of the new facts through your own perception. 

In psycho-analysis, alas, everything is different. Nothing takes place in a psycho-analytic treatment but an interchange of words between the patient and the analyst. The patient talks, tells of his past experiences and present impressions, complains, confesses to his wishes and his emotional impulses. The doctor listens, tries to direct the patient's processes of thought, exhorts, forces his attention in certain directions, gives him explanations and observes the reactions of understanding or rejection which he in this way provokes in him. The uninstructed relatives of our patients, who are only impressed by visible and tangible things-preferably by actions of the sort that are to be witnessed at the cinema-never fail to express their doubts whether 'anything can be done about the illness by mere talking'. That, of course, is both a short-sighted and an inconsistent line of thought. These are the same people who are so certain that patients are 'simply imagining' their symptoms. Words were originally magic and to this day words have retained much of their ancient magical power. By words one person can make another blissfully happy or drive him to despair, by words the teacher conveys his knowledge to his pupils, by words the orator carries his audience with him and determines their judgements and decisions. Words provoke affects and are in general the means of mutual influence among men. Thus we shall not depreciate the use of words in psychotherapy and we shall be pleased if we can listen to the words that pass between the analyst and his patient." 

But we cannot do that either. The talk of which psychoanalytic treatment consists brooks no listener; it cannot be demonstrated. A neurasthenic or hysterical patient can of course, like any other, be introduced to students in a psychiatric lecture. He will give an account of his complaints and symptoms, but of nothing else. The information required by analysis will be given by him only on condition of his having a special emotional attachment to the doctor; he would become silent as soon as he observed a single witness to whom he felt indifferent. For this information concerns what is most intimate in his mental life, everything that, as a socially independent person, he must conceal from other people, and, beyond that, everything that, as a homogeneous personality, he will not admit to himself. 

Thus you cannot be present as an audience at a psychoanalytic treatment. You can only be told about it; and, in the strictest sense of the word, it is only by hearsay that you will get to know psycho-analysis. As a result of receiving your instruction at second hand, as it were, you find yourselves under quite unusual conditions for forming a judgement. That will obviously depend for the most part on how much credence you can give to your informant.s

Freud compares this dilemma to that of the historian, who must establish the existence of facts "through hearsay," without firsthand knowledge that they occurred. It is here that Freud presents a rational argument for assessing historical claims - an argument which, if applied to the Revelation at Sinai, would affirm its validity. However, at the very last moment, Freud states a caveat. 

Let us assume for a moment that you were attending a lecture not on psychiatry but on history, and that the lecturer was telling you of the life and military deeds of Alexander the Great. What grounds would you have for believing in the truth of what he reported? At a first glance the position would seem to be even more unfavourable than in the case of psycho-analysis, for the Professor of History no more took part in Alexander's campaigns than you did. The psycho-analyst does at least report things in which he himself played a part. 

But in due course we come to the things that confirm what the historian has told you. He could refer you to the reports given by ancient writers, who were either themselves contemporary with the events under question or, at any rate, were comparatively close to them-he could refer you, that is to say, to the works of Diodorus, Plutarch, Arrian, and so on. He could put reproductions before you of coins and statues of the king which have survived and he could hand round to you a photograph of the Pompeian mosaic of the battle of Issus. 

Strictly speaking, however, all these documents only prove that earlier generations already believed in Alexander's existence and in the reality of his deeds, and your criticism might start afresh at that point. You would then discover that not all that has been reported about Alexander deserves credence or can be confirmed in its details; but nevertheless I cannot think that you would leave the lecture-room in doubts of the reality of Alexander the Great. 

Your decision would be determined essentially by two considerations: first, that the lecturer had no conceivable motive for assuring you of the reality of something he himself did not think real, and secondly, that all the available history books describe the events in approximately similar terms. If you went on to examine the older sources, you would take the same factors into account the possible motives of the informants and the conformity of the witnesses to one another. 

The outcome of your examination would undoubtedly be reassuring in the case of Alexander, but would probably be different where figures such as Moses or Nimrod were concerned. 

Freud hits all of the fundamental steps of the argument, but balks at the suggestion that his argument could be applied to "Moshe and Nimrod." Freud doesn't even provide any basis for his assertion. He just asserts it.

The question is: Why doesn't Freud apply his reasoning to "Moshe and Nimrod"? There are two paths we can take in approaching this question:

1. We can assume that Freud did not have any intellectual reason for differentiating between Moshe Rabbeinu and Alexander the Great, but rather, his exclusion was prompted by psychological causes within Freud's own psyche.
   
   
2. We can assume that Freud did have an intellectual (if mistaken) basis for making this distinction. 

If the former, then we can sit here speculating as to why Freud was resistant to accepting the historicity of Moshe and Nimrod. If the latter, then our duty is to understand the basis of Freud's differentiation "where figures such as Moses or Nimrod were concerned."

What do you think? 

(Hint: I think this is related to the question of why, for over two thousand years of our history, none of the breakaway movements from Judaism have doubted or denied the historicity of the Revelation at Sinai, until the rise of the Reform Movement in the 19th century. What changed? I think the answers to these two questions are related.)

Seltzer Theories vs. Jam Theories

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Seltzer Theories vs. Jam Theories

Say what you will about Sigmund Freud, but one thing is clear: he was a thinker. Not only was he a thinker, but he had a particular knack for writing about one of my favorite subjects: methodology. Freud's writings are brimming with methodological insights, which have helped me in all areas of learning.

One of my favorite methodology points can be found in New Introductory Lectures on Psychoanalysis, Lecture #30: Dreams and Occultism. Freud takes up the question as to whether there is any legitimacy to "occult phenomena," such as telepathy, fortune tellers, and prophetic dreams: 

We propose to proceed with these things as we do with any other scientific material: first of all to establish whether such events can really be shown to occur, and then and only then, when their factual nature cannot be doubted, to concern ourselves with their explanation.

But Freud notes that we are confronted by difficulties even before we begin our investigation:

It cannot be denied, however, that even the putting of this decision into action is made hard for us by intellectual, psychological and historical factors. The case is not the same as when we approach other investigations.

He then presents a key methodological insight (the paragraph-breaks are my own):

Let us suppose that the question at issue is the constitution of the interior of the earth. We have, as you are aware, no certain knowledge about it. We suspect that it consists of heavy metals in an incandescent state. Then let us imagine that someone puts forward an assertion that the interior of the earth consists of water saturated with carbonic acid - that is to say, with a kind of soda-water. 

We shall no doubt say that this is most improbable, that it contradicts all our expectations and pays no attention to the known facts which have led us to adopt the metal hypothesis. Nevertheless it is not inconceivable; if someone were to show us a way of testing the soda-water hypothesis we should follow it without objecting. 

But suppose now that someone else comes along and seriously asserts that the core of the earth consists of jam. Our reaction to this will be quite different. We shall tell ourselves that jam does not occur in nature, that it is a product of human cooking, that, moreover, the existence of this material presupposes the presence of fruit-trees and their fruit, and that we cannot see how we can locate vegetation and human cookery in the interior of the earth. 

The result of these intellectual objections will be a switching of our interest: instead of starting upon an investigation of whether the core of the earth really consists of jam, we shall ask ourselves what sort of person this must be who can arrive at such a notion, or at most we shall ask him where he got it from. 

The unlucky inventor of the jam theory will be very much insulted and will complain that we are refusing to make an objective investigation of his assertion on the ground of a pretendedly scientific prejudice. But this will be of no help to him. We perceive that prejudices are not always to be reprobated, but that they are sometimes justified and expedient because they save us useless labor. In fact they are only conclusions based on an analogy with other well-founded judgements. A whole number of occultist assertions have the same sort of effect on us as the jam hypothesis; so that we consider ourselves justified in rejecting them at sight, without further investigation.

There you have Freud's subdivision. In summary, there are three types of theories:

1. Heavy Metal Theory: There are theories which are natural extensions of - or, at least, do not contradict - our current empirical data and our theoretical framework. These are the theories to which we are most willing to devote our time and energy to clarify and develop, and to eventually verify or falsify.
   
2. Seltzer Theory: Then there are theories which strike us as improbable or counter-intuitive. Sometimes this is because these theories would require much more or much different data than we presently have. Sometimes it is because the framework of the proposed theory is so radically different from the current theory that it seems unlikely to be true. We would need a compelling reason to devote our time and energy to researching a seltzer theory (e.g. if the theory were proposed by someone in whom we have emunas chachamim, or if a theory were badly needed for a practical reason and all heavy metal theories had already been tested).
   
3. Jam Theory: Finally, there are the theories which strike us not only as improbable, but impossible, inconceivable, or absurd. Everything we know indicates that this theory can't be true, and therefore, it is not worth our while to devote time and energy into determining its validity.

In my opinion, this subdivision is entirely a matter of practicality. If we had infinite time and resources, we would investigate every theory. However, since our time and resources are limited, we must pick and choose which theories warrant a serious investigation and which do not. This three-fold rubric is a good tool for making such a decision.

Nevertheless, Freud - in his typical intellectual honesty - raises a problem with our rejection of jam theories:

But all the same, the position is not so simple. A comparison like the one I have chosen proves nothing, or proves as little as comparisons in general. It remains doubtful whether it fits the case, and it is clear that its choice was already determined by our attitude of contemptuous rejection. Prejudices are sometimes expedient and justified; but sometimes they are erroneous and detrimental, and one can never tell when they are the one and when the other. 

The history of science itself abounds in instances which are a warning against premature condemnation. For a long time it was regarded as a senseless hypothesis to suppose that the stones, which we now call meteorites, could have reached the earth from outer space or that the rocks forming mountains, in which the remains of shells are embedded, could have once formed the bed of the sea. Incidentally, much the same thing happened to our psycho-analysis when it brought forward its inference of there being an unconscious. 

Thus we analysts have special reason to be careful in using intellectual considerations for rejecting new hypotheses and must admit that they do not relieve us from feelings of antipathy, doubt and uncertainty.

Freud warns us that even jam theories might have merit, and that the theory-sorting rubric outlined above is not infallible. But where does this leave us? The fact remains that the vast majority of jam theories are bogus. How do we know when to research a jam theory and when to reject it at the outset?

The answer, I believe, is that we have no choice but to follow the rubric and reject jam theories at the outset. Even though this might lead us to reject theories which later prove to be valid, Freud's method is still the most rational and consistent approach we can take.

Needless to say, we must never close our minds to a jam theory, and if someone shows us evidence or compelling arguments for such a theory, then we should be intellectually honest enough to retract our decision and change our minds.