On Morality and Emotion: A General Overview (Column 605)

I have written here more than once about the significance (or lack thereof) of emotion in my view. One of the arenas where this is expressed in the sharpest and clearest way is the realm of morality. People tend to tie it to emotions, whereas in my eyes this is a wrong and even destructive approach.

What raised the matter for me this time was his question from Doron regarding the burial of Alina Palchati, of blessed memory, one of the women murdered at the Re’im nature party. The rabbinate in Beit She’an decided to bury her in the section for cases of uncertainty, because she was not Jewish. Her mother protested, since according to her it was very important to her daughter to conduct herself as a Jew. She was in the midst of a conversion process that was cut short by the murder; she engaged in separating challah (what has that to do with Judaism?), prayed, lit Shabbat candles, etc. The critics presented this as if she had been buried “outside the fence,” in disgrace, only because there was a formal problem with her Jewishness. Doron assumed that there was here a serious moral problem, and I thought it appropriate to clarify the matter more broadly. It is important to discuss not only the question of the morality of this particular decision, but mainly the question of the relationship between morality and emotion, which in my opinion surfaced in this case in full force. Most of what follows I have already detailed in the past, and therefore my aim here is to sketch the general picture without entering into the details of the arguments and the justification for each one.

Introduction on Morality and Emotion

Without elaborating too much (since I have done so more than once), I can list here at least three main reasons why morality must not be bound up with emotion (I will qualify this a bit below):

1. A defect in the moral quality of the action. Behavior according to emotion, even if one does the right thing, is not moral behavior, for two reasons:

• It is an action that is not the product of choice but of an emotional arousal. A moral action is one done out of volitional decision.[1] One could say there is here an ought–is fallacy (sometimes called the “naturalistic fallacy”), since the emotion that resides in me is a fact, whereas the moral norm is a norm. One cannot base a norm on a fact.
• Even aside from the question of choice, such an action is done for my own sake (quieting my emotional pangs of conscience) and not for the sake of the other. A moral action should be done out of commitment to the moral command, not to feed emotions.

2. A moral mistake in the action. Guidance by emotion can lead to incorrect moral conclusions, namely to actions that are morally wrong.
3. Harm to the image of man. Beyond the fact that such an action is not a moral action, in other contexts as well it is correct that people who let emotion lead them do not act as human beings but as animals. They are driven by instincts, just like animals. Man’s advantage over the beast is his judgment and his choice. I do not mean that a person must constantly activate his faculty of choice. A person is allowed to enjoy, sleep, watch a movie or eat something tasty, and simply act instinctively. But if this is a policy, and in particular if it is employed in contexts where a volitional action should indeed be taken, then there is here a harm to the image of man.

Beyond these reasons, there is a categorical error. If a person acts solely by virtue of his emotion, he cannot have criticism of someone else who is not endowed with that emotion or who does have such an emotion but for some reason decided not to act upon it. Must a person act based on the emotions he has? I have an urge to speak slander, so must I speak slander? What exists within me is a fact, and the question of what I ought to do with that fact is an independent question (the naturalistic fallacy). With respect to subjective decisions, each person and his subjective feelings. Action according to emotion is a subjective matter, and it has nothing at all to do with morality. Morality by definition is an objective command that obligates all people. It may be that some will dispute its content or err in understanding it, but then at most they are coerced (anussim).

It is important to understand that the mere fact that there is a moral debate between people or groups does not mean there is no binding, objective moral command. There can also be disputes regarding the laws of nature, and that stems from one side being right and the other side wrong. The existence of a dispute does not necessarily indicate a plurality of truths. One must understand that a relativistic approach to morality empties it of content. If there is different morality for every person or group, there is no point in speaking of moral obligation, nor of my moral judgment and critique of others. Therefore subjective morality is not morality. In Column 456 I stood on the implications of this picture and showed two things: (a) Behind moral norms there are ethical facts (this is the approach of moral realism, and on this there was agreement between me and David Enoch in the debate described there). (b) There cannot be binding morality without an external authoritative factor (God) who gives it force (and about this the debate there took place).

A Current Implication

From here you can understand why in a secular world there is a strong tendency to tie morality to emotion. True, sometimes there is confusion and people continue to speak of objective and binding morality (secular positions are usually very confused, inconsistent, and irrational), but in the same breath they continue to tie it to emotion. You can observe what is happening now in the world around the war in Gaza against Hamas, and see how secular emotionalist morality can lead people to absolute relativism. Thus “liberal” leaders issue statements that support Hamas and its murderous terror. They do not even feel the absurdity. Beyond the blatant antisemitism that can be seen in them, I think there are two more aspects in these statements that are no less important to note: 1) the assumption that there is no absolute morality, and that morality is determined by emotion; 2) the fact that their emotion goes in the direction of Hamas and not of Israel. The critique of these progressive positions usually focuses on level 2 (the claim is that contrary to the way of thinking of the post-colonialists, the weak and whiny Oriental is not always the just one). But my critique prefers to focus precisely on level 1, since that is the heart of the matter.

It would appear that they are talking about objective, binding morality (for they critique Israel and are unwilling to recognize that it has a different morality from theirs), but in truth it is clear that they speak from the gut (from emotion). Pictures of the misery of the weak and suffering (so long as he is not a Jew) render him just in their eyes. I explained above that if one adopts thesis 1, according to which morality is rooted in emotion, it is very difficult to critique the morality of others. It is their emotion, and no rational ethical consideration can change it. This is a necessary result of the link between morality and emotion, and in this sense those delusional progressives are correct. If you adopt the identity of morality and emotion, then that is the emotion that resides within them. This only sharpens the need to clarify the issue of morality and emotion, in which many of the critics of progressivism also fail.

Incidentally, it suddenly turns out that the progressive left in Israel does not share the stance of progressivism abroad. A surprising miracle has occurred. One can even read disappointed posts by Israeli liberals and progressives about the enlightened liberal public abroad. But it seems that in most cases the reason is that among Israelis the emotion is different. Those harmed on Simchat Torah were their acquaintances and relatives, and they know the situation up close and were harmed by it (it is good that the riots were not in Judea and Samaria, otherwise we would be watching a totally different opera). That is, the difference between them and their colleagues abroad is mainly on level 2, but level 1 remains agreed. You can hear and sense the emotional talk from the Israeli side as well. Therefore it is a mistake to think there is here a true debate or a true repentance of the Israeli progressives. They simply have a different emotion. When they relate to what happens abroad (regarding the U.S. in Iraq or Afghanistan, for example), you will hear from them the very same tunes. There they do not have patriotic feeling and the sense of injury and the emotions that accompany it, because it did not happen to them. Therefore there the weak is still right and the strong is still an evil, colonialist oppressor in their eyes. Among many of these newly “awakened,” the core has not truly changed.

The main focus where the debate should concentrate, and where a real change will be tested, is level 1: the willingness to recognize objective, valid, and binding morality, and to detach it from emotion. Complete repentance must include a retreat from the postmodern narrativity now exposed in its disgrace. All its moralistic fig leaves are now falling, and this is an excellent opportunity to examine it itself, instead of focusing on the leaves that fall from it. I expect the Israeli left to retreat from progressivism, relativism, and narrativism themselves, and not only from a particular stance toward the Palestinians or Hamas or toward their colleagues abroad. Unfortunately it seems to me that they are making life easy for themselves and choosing to focus on level 2. At best most of them are engaged in a redesign of the emotion, not in their attitude to emotion as such (level 1).

After this motivational talk, I shall return to the Alina Palchati case.

The Manner in Which the “Debate” (?) Was Conducted

It turns out that the harsh discourse and severe criticism did their work (the headline in Israel Hayom screamed: “They killed her a second time,” no less). As expected, there were liberal religious circles who joined the critique and even took care to conduct a Jewish burial ceremony for Alina. Likewise, it turns out that in the end the rabbinate also decided to give in a bit (not entirely) and to lower the fence between the section for cases of uncertainty and the main section in the cemetery (the Jewish section). The links here are just a small selection from the great storm you can find with a simple Google search.

Well, first of all there are apparently several factual inaccuracies here. For example, the rabbinate claims that Palchati had left the conversion process of her own accord years earlier and was not preparing to complete it at all. It was not the murder that cut it off. I must say in parentheses that this raises some doubt in me about the descriptions of her deep connection to Judaism (in the religious-halakhic sense; there is no other sense). Ceremonies of separating challah are pagan rituals that have not a shred of connection to Judaism in its essential meaning. They are part of the New Age nonsense that envelops us in a Jewish cellophane (see on this in Column 392). In addition, the media reported that she was not at all buried in disgrace but with due honor in the section for cases of uncertainty, as is customary in such cases. I see nothing wrong with that. The expression “outside the fence” sounds very bad to us, and not for nothing did the local demagogues use it, but originally this is an expression for the place of burial of one who committed suicide or of those executed by the court. Here we are speaking of separation between different burial sections. She was buried entirely within the fence—within the fence that is relevant to her. By the same token one could say that the Jews are also buried there outside the fence, outside the fence of the uncertain (and do me a favor—spare me the slogans criticizing “different but equal”). As is known, throughout the world and also in Israel it is customary to divide burial grounds according to the religion of the deceased, and so they did here as well. But the moral nausea of our Jewish quivering soul—that is, the emotional flood in the discourse—justifies everything: lies, slanders, distortions, incitement, and many more such noble traits.

The emotional and inflammatory discourse presented the rabbinate as a fanatical and anti-moral body (which is true, of course, irrespective of this case), and harsh criticism was hurled at them for it. Since my attitude to the rabbinate is known, I shall only note here that there is enough correct criticism to hurl at them. There is no need to demagogue and lie for this. In this particular case I see nothing wrong in the way the rabbinate acted—or as our sages said: even a stopped clock shows the correct time twice a day.

Our Topic

But, as stated, what is important to me is the moral question, and in particular the relationship between morality and emotion. In this case there was expressed very forcefully the automatic association people make between morality and emotion, since to all sides it is clear that there is here a terrible moral injustice and this is not even up for discussion. The emotionalism of the discourse of course was expressed also in its form and not only in its content. The demagoguery and the slogans—of which I described only a few—the distortions and slanders, all come from the gut and not from the head. The inability to distinguish between different planes of discussion (as I shall show below) also points to the emotionalism of the discourse. Therefore to me this is an excellent example of failures in the painful issue of emotion and morality.

As noted, beyond the form of the discourse, even the assumption—automatic and self-evident, it would seem—that there is here a moral problem likely comes from the gut and not from the head. As is my wont, I shall try to analyze this in a systematic and rational manner without being dragged after the rants and slogans as is customary in our parts. I ask the readers to approach the discussion from the same starting point. This is not a bad opportunity to fine-tune our morality and, in particular, the place from which we come to it and operate in general.

My Reply to Doron

I think that presenting Doron’s question is also important here:

I assume you heard about the Hevra Kadisha’s refusal to bury one of the murdered women in a Jewish cemetery because she was in the middle of a conversion process. It is needless to say the conflict between that determination and natural morality (as understood by her family and many others). Does the Hevra Kadisha have a halakhic case here, or could this have been smoothed over and they simply botched it as usual?

I will note that as a secular person I cannot imagine agreeing with this policy, but right now I am interested in knowing who the main villain is in this story: the state that did not separate religion and state, or the religious folk? Forgive the emotions, I’m in a crappy period.

Notice that he assumes there are villains here, and the only question is who the principal villain is. It is obvious to him that anyone of sound mind understands the matter as he does—that this is an explicitly anti-moral step. At most there is here a tension between halakhah and morality, and now the question is how to relate to that and what to do in such a situation. He does not take into account the possibility that someone would not see any moral injustice here at all. Even his closing expresses (welcome) awareness of the emotionalism of his message. But the emotionalism is not only in the wording as he imagined; it is also in the content. His question represents the style of discourse in this case and in general, and therefore it was important for me to present it here.

The main points are already in my initial answer to Doron’s question (written before I saw the lies and distortions of the discourse surrounding Palchati’s case):

I really do not see the conflict with natural morality. There is a religious interest in burying Jews in their own section and she is not halakhically Jewish. The fact that someone wants to be considered a Jew does not make him a Jew. There is no moral issue here, no conflict, and nothing of the sort. She merited an honorable burial, but in the section for cases of uncertainty, since she is a case of uncertainty. That is all.

Incidentally, even if religion and state were separated, she would not be buried in a religious section, because the religious community would not agree. And even now she can be buried in a non-religious cemetery as she wishes. So why should they yield to her whim to be buried as a Jew when she is not?! This is delusional, detached morality, and I am sick and tired of all this secular nonsense that comes from the gut. It is belly-morality. Therefore no one here is a villain, and the fact that you are in a difficult state will not change that.

The only thing relevant here is the (unjustified) hurt that the family feels in its difficult situation, and in that there may be room for consideration. True, from the perspective of halakhah there is, in my view, no real impediment, and therefore I think it certainly would have been possible to yield to them. But the view of most rabbis is different.

Now I will only spell things out a bit more, and then move to the principled discussion.

A Brief Elaboration

There are several assumptions in what I wrote above.

• Most rabbis hold that there is a halakhic prohibition to bury a gentile in a Jewish section.
• I personally do not agree with this, for in my eyes it is another taboo among the many taboos that accompany matters of burial and death.
• But that is my personal position, and I understand that others think differently (in my opinion they are mistaken, but that is their position).
• There is no moral problem in burying a gentile in the gentiles’ section, even if he himself would want otherwise, and certainly if his parents want otherwise. This is an honorable burial no less than that of a Jew.
• A person is not sovereign to determine about himself whether he is a Jew.
• His right to be buried where he wants does not trump the right of others to be buried where they want (for example, those who want to be buried only with Jews).
• I think the principle that the person himself determines his identity—religious, gender, or in any other respect—is the root of all evil. One often hears statements like: who are you to determine who is a Jew and who is not? If he feels like a Jew, then he is a Jew. Well, no. A Jew is one born to a Jewish mother or who converted in accordance with halakhah. Period. This is not a matter of feeling and sentiment but of fact.
• Of course one can demand separation of religion and state so that Judaism would not be essential in the State of Israel regarding burial matters or in general. That is a different question, of course. If we separated religion and state (I am an ardent supporter of this), then there would be private religious cemeteries for those interested, and everyone would be buried as he wishes. Incidentally, this would of course lead to precisely the same situation: a Jewish section (for those to whom it is important to be buried only with Jews), a section for those of uncertain status (that is, Jews and gentiles who do not care about being buried separately), and a gentile section (Christians, Muslims, etc.). But I suppose that for some reason then they would not cry and protest, because people’s bellies would not be rumbling.
• Factually, in practice one sees that this matter bothers the parents, and if we believe them then it was also the wish of the deceased herself (in my estimation, among other things because of the baseless emotional propaganda around the matter).
• Therefore, in the absence of an impediment, it is certainly proper to take their wishes into account in their time of grief, if it is possible. But if there are impediments, this is not an absolute obligation.

The conclusions from all these assumptions are the following:

1. In my personal view it would have been possible to accede to the parents’ wish and bury her in the Jewish section, since I do not see a substantive halakhic problem in this (apart from custom).
2. In the view of one who disputes me halakhically, it was not correct to bury her in the Jewish section because there is in this a halakhic prohibition. A parental whim does not justify violating halakhah.
3. Beyond that, there is no moral command that obligates acceding to their wishes or even to the wishes of the deceased. At most there is a moral command to take their wishes and sensitivities into account (if there is no halakhic impediment to that).
4. It follows that one who, on the halakhic plane, thinks differently from me and therefore decided not to bury her in the Jewish section is certainly not wicked, even though I disagree with his decision.

A Comparison to the Question of Queerness

I have written in exactly this way more than once regarding the various gender disturbances (or in their “scientific” name: those suffering from gender dysphoria). I argued there as well that a person has no right to define himself. Such definitions begin with facts and end with people’s outlooks. At most a person can tell us what he feels, but every other person is supposed to decide whether for him such a feeling suffices for that person to be considered a man, a woman, or an androgynos. The fact that so-and-so himself thinks so does not obligate me to obey him and adopt his own stance, even when it concerns his attitude toward himself. There is no ethical logic in such a strange demand, and raising it is nothing but emotion. When one sees that something is important to a person and that he is hurt if treated otherwise, many tend to accept it. But an ethical approach should not cling to feelings.

There is definitely room to take account of a person’s whims, even if baseless, if there is no other impediment and if it does not contradict my principles. Why not consider and prevent him suffering or harm?! For me personally, usually this indeed does not contradict; but if there is someone for whom it does contradict, he is entirely exempt from adopting the stance of the person in question. Of course, even in my view there is a reasonable limit (such as using locker rooms and restrooms of the other gender/sex, participation in sports competitions of the other gender, and the like). His rights—or our obligation to take his whims into account—do not necessarily trump the rights of others who might be harmed by those whims, just as in Palchati’s case. The fact that he whines and perhaps is truly hurt does not make him right and does not grant him rights.

I must sharpen that in my personal view there is definitely logic in distinguishing between sex and gender, and I wrote about this in Column 504. But that is my view, and I understand that many others think differently (even if they do not always dare say so). And regarding it—the whims of this or that queer person do not obligate him to suffer or to give up his principles or outlook. This one’s blood is not redder than others’. The fact that he wants me to call him a woman does not obligate me, if in my view he is a man. For one who thinks so, this is similar to my demanding that you relate to me as Napoleon. Even if I truly feel so, this is a deviation or an illness, not a legitimate demand. The principle that a person can define himself as he wishes is a progressive ethical delusion (and of course emotionalist) that one can now see sending its branches into different domains.

All these are expressions of the emotionalism of our moral discourse. In the absence of objective factual definitions, we are swept into the domains of emotion. People’s personal narratives dictate the truth and hence also our attitude toward them. This is not merely consideration for the miserable and suffering—a correct principle in and of itself—but narrativism of the world and of morality and its coupling to emotion, which is simply not correct. If he feels miserable, and if I feel empathy with his misery—then there is an obligation to act accordingly. A moral conception must be objective and not emotional, and it refuses to accept such subordination of morality to emotions. I can understand and even empathize with the feelings and suffering of any such person, agree or disagree with him, and still I am not obliged to act according to those feelings. The assumption that if that is what emotion says then that is the morality is the root of all evil.

I have previously mentioned an incident that happened with me when I sat with my children and watched a music reality show (School of Music, or something like that). One of the judges was the singer Shlomi Shabat, and when he heard one of the candidates he became all emotional and said: “The mind tells me such-and-such, but the heart, the heart…,” and then he fell silent to the applause of the audience. I immediately pointed out to my children that he did not say what he decided in the end—the heart or the mind? They burst out laughing of course, since in our world it is self-evident that if the mind says X and the heart says Y—the decision is Y. There is not even a need to say this explicitly, and the clapping proves it. Only I, autistic that I am, do not understand such things.

Beyond the content of the positions in the discussion around Palchati’s case that are rooted in emotion, the emotionalism appears also through the sloganeering and hysteria of the discourse on this topic. It is true that usually when there are no arguments the recommended advice is to take offense or to invent moral principles and roll one’s eyes heavenward in their name, as if they came down from Sinai and whoever does not obey them is wicked. But there is something deeper here than the absence of specific arguments. There is an assumption that arguments are not needed, for even if the mind says X, the heart says Y, no?

Now you can apply all the conclusions I described above regarding the queer context also to the burial question of Palchati. The dilemma of burial (in a Jewish section or not) translates into attitude toward a person (as a man or a woman). In terms of the discourse style and the different positions (a person’s right to define himself), everything looks exactly the same. These are two completely parallel issues, and both are based on the postmodern assumption that every person is entitled to define himself.

If indeed the claims against the rabbinate that it is not moral are baseless, how is it that people raise them with such great enthusiasm nonetheless? Because they are driven by the gut. As I wrote to Doron later in the thread, there are emotionalist monsters that take over our moral discourse in every public issue, invent moral principles for us and swear by them, and thus bury beneath them morality and reason altogether. People do not even bother to argue why there is a moral problem here. Like Shlomi Shabat, if the heart says something this is an axiom that cannot be disputed, straight from the mouth of progressive divinity (“may His Name be upgraded and exalted,” as the clip jokes).

Emotion and Intuition

The picture I have described thus far is correct, but it requires another clarification. I do not intend to claim that every moral position requires an argument that justifies it. Moral intuition is a completely acceptable matter. Moreover, every moral argument proceeds from premises which themselves, by virtue of being premises, cannot have justification (like every logical argument and its premises). So whence do they come? Some will say that this is proof of the emotional sources of morality; but if so, then this is proof of the emotional sources of every conclusion we have in every domain—science, law, morality, etc. As noted, every argument that leads to a conclusion is based on premises, and if the premises, in your opinion, are a subjective-emotional matter, so too are all the conclusions.

This relativism is based on the feeling that everything stands on the chicken legs of unjustified premises. This is what leads people to claim that morality is emotional at its root. But as noted, this is not true only regarding morality. Therefore, if someone is skeptical or pluralistic (=synonyms) in all domains of life, I have no effective claim against him. But if he is relativistic or pluralistic only in the moral domain, there is no basis and no justification for this.

So whence indeed do we draw our axiomatic value premises and others? Well, I need not tell readers of my books the answer: from intuition. Intuition is a cognitive-intellectual faculty whose use yields our premises. They indeed are not susceptible to logical justification (otherwise they would not be premises), but that does not mean they are a subjective emotion. Intuition is an intellectual capacity that enables us to observe the metaphysical and ethical reality with the eyes of the mind (or the conscience, in the moral context). Binding morality presupposes that there is objective moral truth (moral realism), and the observation of it yields our foundational values and moral intuitions. These are not emotions but objective and universal principles (I mean on the normative plane. Factually, there are clearly moral disagreements between people. But that does not mean that all are right. It may be that one is right and the other wrong).

Because intuitions are not based on logical justifications (and also do not need them), people tend to tie them to emotions. Seemingly both stem from my subjective psychological structure, and therefore do not need justification. But this is a mistake: Emotion is indeed a subjective matter whose basis lies in my psychological structure. Therefore its conclusions concern only me and obligate no one else (nor even me. I simply tend naturally to act according to them, but not by virtue of obligation). Consequently, emotions do not require justification, for they assert nothing. But intuition is a rational faculty and its conclusions are objective, similar to vision and the other senses. If someone asks me why I think there is a wall before me, I will answer: because I see it. And if he asks why I believe what I see, I will not feel a need to answer him. But that is not because it is a subjective feeling that asserts nothing and therefore needs no justification, but because I saw. That is sufficient justification, and there is no need for any further justification. In short: The absence of justification can stem from there being no justification to be had—and then it is emotion—or from no justification being required—and then it is intuition.

The same holds for fundamental principles of morality (what is called “values”). If someone asks me why I accept the principle of causality (that everything has a cause) or the principle that it is forbidden to murder or steal, I will not be able to answer him. But that is not because these are subjective emotions, but because these are self-evident objective truths that require no justification. I simply saw it and therefore it is true. I see the principle of causality, and I also see the theoretical generalizations I make based on the facts I observed, and in exactly this way I see the moral values by which I act. In my view, one who sees otherwise is apparently mistaken (he suffers from a kind of blindness in the eyes of the mind).[2]

I must add that it is not always easy to distinguish between intuition and emotion. When you see a miserable person you might think that your feeling is merely a subjective emotion, but at the same time your moral intuition tells you that you must help him. Sometimes emotion is the basis for the moral decision, but it is always important to distinguish between the basis and the manner of decision-making. The data brought by emotion are important (otherwise how would I know that so-and-so is suffering, in order to understand that morality obligates me to assist him or prevent his suffering?). Empathy is the database of morality, and now the mind will use it to decide what ought to be done in such a situation.

Similarly I wrote here in the past about choosing a spouse. A student asked me many years ago how to choose a spouse: should one follow the mind or the emotion? I answered him: always the mind, since that is our tool for making decisions. Emotion is not a cognitive instrument, and therefore it is not correct to let it make decisions (indeed, going with emotion is not a decision at all). It is true, however, that in the decision that the mind makes it must take into account the data of emotion (whether there is chemistry, love, etc.). But these are data that serve the mind in the decision, not the mode of decision-making. Emotion is not a tool for making decisions.

Rabbi Bunim Schreiber’s Words

In recent days the words of Rabbi Bunim Schreiber were published, which treat IDF soldiers and the obligatory attitude toward them (gratitude) with disdain. I was asked here on the site for my view of his words, and I answered what I answered. Here only one point is important to me. It is quite clear to me that his words were said against the background of the feeling that the discourse is saturated with emotionalism. A rank-and-file Lithuanian (yeshivish) who sees this emotionalism is outraged and comes out against it. He indeed spoke nonsense and his arguments are ridiculous—ethically and intellectually—but his motivation for stating these harsh words is the emotionalism of the discourse. It seems his feeling is that the Haredi society is undergoing these days a severe ideological crisis (identification with the state and the IDF, heaven forfend), and this prompted him to respond.

But mainly he saw that this crisis is happening on the emotional plane, meaning that people are swept along by the situation and are responding to emotions. Their decisions do not pass through the mind. Against this it was important for him to present the Haredi outlook (the “pure hashkafah”), which ostensibly focuses on analogies and “intellectual” arguments. The arguments and analogies are completely ridiculous, of course, and perhaps they also reflect Schreiber’s own emotionalist attitude (see Column 142 regarding Lithuanian emotions). He is a very talented and original person, and when someone like that must resort to such foolish arguments, that itself raises a heavy suspicion that he projects his own flaw—that is, he himself let emotions run him. But I think that is what he wanted to express, and on that point I do in fact agree with his impression. The atmosphere around us these days is very emotional, even more than usual. But his nonsense (emotionalism) will probably not change that.

Incidentally, in cases like ours such turbulent feelings can reflect moral intuitions (to fight Hamas and eliminate them). Moreover, despite the very emotional discourse, it is entirely possible that the content of the positions as such derives from intuitions and not from emotions. Thus, for example, it may be that many Haredim suddenly understand the foolishness in their outlook, but when they express this they express themselves in an emotional manner. In any case, when you want to come out against emotional conduct, it is not necessarily correct to come out against the content of that conduct. The conclusions of the awakening Haredim are entirely correct, even if they come from emotions and the gut (and as noted, it is not certain that this is the case). Therefore he should have focused his critique on the emotionalism and not on the emotions themselves. That is what led him to present arguments so disconnected from common sense (because, as noted, in this case emotion aligns with common sense).

Implications for Other Issues: The Hostage Deal

Above I noted that one of the drawbacks of emotional conduct is the emotionalism itself, even if the conclusions are correct. But sometimes the emotionalism leads us to wrong conclusions (unlike in the discussion of the Haredim’s response to the current situation, where the emotion led to correct conclusions—and perhaps it was intuition and not emotion). In this column we saw several examples of moral principles that express baseless emotions (identification with suffering that gives rise to baseless ethical claims, a person’s right to define himself, that the weak is always right, and actually he is “made weak” and not weak, and more and more). In all these cases the emotionalism is problematic not only in the place whence the things come, but also because it leads to incorrect ethical conduct. There are thousands more examples of this (a woman’s right to her body, for example), and I shall not list them here. Many of the moral assumptions that appear in the public discourse as self-evident and are expressed in a decisive and absolute manner are in fact baseless.

Another example with which I shall conclude is the hostage deal now being woven in these very hours. Everyone sees that the discourse around it is, naturally, very emotional. Who can stand against the tears of the families and the pictures of the kidnapped children and elderly?! It is very reminiscent of what happened with Gilad Shalit. Then too there was an almost complete consensus in favor of the deal, and anyone who dared express opposition was put before media firing squads. Usually these were a few rabbis who were presented as a fanatical right and immoral, indifferent to human life and to the state’s obligation to its soldiers. Exactly the same tunes one hears these days. True, today it suddenly turns out that actually everyone opposed the Shalit deal back then; they simply were not listened to and their voices were not heard. It seems there was simply no one who supported it, and it was all a media façade. Allow me to doubt this picture and all those who suddenly now remember that they opposed the deal and their voice was not heard then. This is partly true, of course, since the media had a very clear agenda and therefore the opposing voices were not aired. In any case, today there is almost a complete consensus that that deal was a big mistake. The current events themselves are a result of that deal.

But the very fact that everyone today opposes the Shalit deal raises the question: what happened then? How did we fall into such an irrational decision? The answer is very simple: we were swept by our emotions, and therefore we made a patently wrong decision. We could not stand against the emotional arguments and the pictures of Gilad suffering in Hamas captivity and of his family sitting in despair in the protest tent. But this story should awaken in us second thoughts about the current deal.

There are many differences between then and today. If we were offered a deal of all Hamas prisoners in our hands for all the hostages, I would support it without hesitation. It is not similar to the Shalit deal in almost any respect. The number of hostages, the fact that they are civilians, that there are elderly and children (women, of course, do not count, since as is known there is no difference between men and women and everyone can be combat soldiers and fall captive). The fact that they are not to blame for their situation, that the government and the army are to blame for it (they abandoned them and the duty to protect them), and more and more. But the current deal in my view is worse in several respects, and therefore as stated I tend to oppose it, even though it is also very hard for me to stand before the pictures of the hostages and the suffering of them and their families. On this one can of course argue, and it may be that I am mistaken and this is a good and proper deal.

But despite the differences between then and today, there is one aspect that is important to take into account from the Gilad Shalit affair for our days. Naturally, the discourse today is far more emotional than it was then, and is therefore prone to mistakes. I will not enter here into the drawbacks of the deal and why, in my opinion, it is not correct to carry it out. I do not have full information, of course, and it may be that the decision-makers have relevant additional information that would change the picture for me as well (as happened to Smotrich and his party yesterday). But one thing is entirely clear to me, and it is true regardless of your stance on the deal: emotionalism is taking over the discourse and does not allow cool-headed deliberation. Therefore, even if there is someone who thinks that it is not correct to carry out the deal (as I indeed think), it is clear that he cannot and does not dare say this aloud. See what happens to those who do say it. He is presented as a fanatic devoid of moral feeling (take for example the ugly and despicable skit by “Eretz Nehederet” about Smotrich, aired last Tuesday, and Tamar Gisser’s critique of it). Moreover, the government and army, who are to blame and responsible for this failure, certainly cannot stand against the families’ demands and the emotional storm that accompanies them. Therefore it is even more likely in my opinion that this decision may prove mistaken.

One must understand that when a certain kind of opinions is not heard and is not considered legitimate, this is a very bad way to make decisions. Just now we fell because of a conception regarding which no one was prepared to voice a critical opinion (and those who did were silenced). We are in these very days returning to that very failure.

The positions in the discourse on the deal are presented in a very emotional manner, but it is not only the form of the discourse but also its content. The positions are determined on the emotional plane, and not only presented emotionally. It seems that the pictures of the hostages and the families’ campaign will determine the fate of the deal, and not necessarily the security and diplomatic considerations. Whether the deal that is carried out will be found correct or not, there is here emotionalist conduct, and that in itself is problematic.

I shall leave for another column the question regarding the relationship between right/left and mind/emotion (why all those who opposed the Shalit deal and who oppose the current deal are on the right, and usually also religious?).

[1] Of course one can argue that a person can choose to act according to the guidance of emotion, and therefore this is still a choice. I think that usually this is not the case. Beyond that, if the reason for doing so is the assessment that emotion guides me to act correctly, then this is not action according to emotion but according to what is right. And if the reason is that the mere fact that emotion says something means that that is what must be done—then there is here no real choice (reasoned deliberation) but action according to emotion. And of course even if there were a choice here, there still remains reason (b) listed above.

[2] I am of course not claiming certainty here nor assuming that I am necessarily always right. My claim is that a moral position is an objective claim to which I arrive through cognition (an epistemic matter) and not merely a feeling imprinted in me; that is, if there is a debate about it, one is right and the other wrong. It may be that I am the one who is wrong, and therefore it is important to listen well to counter-arguments and other positions. But a moral claim is a kind of factual claim (I previously called this “ethical facts”).