What Are the ‘Arurim’ (Curses): The Example of Causing Another to Transgress (Column 503)

With God’s help

Disclaimer: This post was translated from Hebrew using AI (ChatGPT 5 Thinking), so there may be inaccuracies or nuances lost. If something seems unclear, please refer to the Hebrew original or contact us for clarification.

This past Shabbat I addressed in the synagogue the topic of the “arurim” (curses) in the parashah (Ki-Tavo). Along the way I recalled a Ritva that discusses a special case of causing another to stumble without there being a formal prohibition, and I thought his words could shed light on this somewhat murky subject.

Two Types of “Arurim”

In Parashat Ki-Tavo the Torah presents a list of twelve “arurim” that were pronounced on Mount Eival (Deuteronomy 27:13–26):

“And these shall stand for the curse on Mount Ebal: Reuben, Gad, and Asher, and Zebulun, Dan, and Naphtali. And the Levites shall speak and say to all the men of Israel with a loud voice: ‘Cursed is the man who makes a carved or molten image, an abomination to the Lord, the work of the hands of a craftsman, and sets it up in secret’—and all the people shall answer and say, ‘Amen.’ ‘Cursed is he who dishonors his father or his mother’—and all the people shall say, ‘Amen.’ ‘Cursed is he who removes his neighbor’s landmark’—and all the people shall say, ‘Amen.’ ‘Cursed is he who misleads a blind person on the way’—and all the people shall say, ‘Amen.’ ‘Cursed is he who perverts the justice of the stranger, the orphan, and the widow’—and all the people shall say, ‘Amen.’ ‘Cursed is he who lies with his father’s wife, for he has uncovered his father’s skirt’—and all the people shall say, ‘Amen.’ ‘Cursed is he who lies with any beast’—and all the people shall say, ‘Amen.’ ‘Cursed is he who lies with his sister, the daughter of his father or the daughter of his mother’—and all the people shall say, ‘Amen.’ ‘Cursed is he who lies with his mother-in-law’—and all the people shall say, ‘Amen.’ ‘Cursed is he who strikes his fellow in secret’—and all the people shall say, ‘Amen.’ ‘Cursed is he who takes a bribe to strike down an innocent person’—and all the people shall say, ‘Amen.’ ‘Cursed is he who does not uphold the words of this Torah, to perform them’—and all the people shall say, ‘Amen.’”

Afterward come the blessings and curses, likewise phrased with “blessed” and “cursed.” The blessings and curses describe what will happen to those who are cursed and, in contrast, to those who are blessed, but the “arurim” listed here are of a different nature: they are a slightly different kind of prohibitive statement, not a statement of consequences.

Parenthetically, I note that for some reason there is no parallel list of commandments phrased with “blessed.” I suspect this may be connected to the asymmetry that exists in halakhah between positive commandments and prohibitions in several respects (see Column 417 and the series around it). For example, we do not have a “positive prohibition” (a contradiction in terms) but only a positive command that can be constitutive or merely fulfilled, whereas prohibitions are only constitutive (even the notion of merely “fulfilling” a positive command is not entirely clear). There is no positive command derived from a negative one, though there is a negative prohibition derived from a positive one (see there). There are definitional positive commands (the “tzivui-tzihi” type), but no definitional prohibitions, and so on. Still, I do not yet have a clear answer for why a list of “blessed” commandments does not appear here.

In any case, the list above consists of normative “arurim,” not factual ones like those that follow later in the parashah. I now wish to touch on the question of the nature of these “arurim,” and how they differ from regular negative prohibitions (lavin).

Two Aspects in Every Commandment and Transgression

The enumerators of the commandments did not understand these “arurim” as full halakhic prohibitions, and they are not counted among the 613 commandments. The Chafetz Chaim, for example, in his laws of guarding one’s speech, counts a person who stumbles in this area as having transgressed various negative and positive commandments, as well as “arurim”—that is, he treats it as a separate category, neither a lav nor an aseh.

How do “arurim” differ from ordinary negative prohibitions? It seems the difference lies in the fact that verses that pronounce a curse are not phrased as commands. Chazal tell us that a Torah prohibition must appear in the language of command, such as “beware (hishamer),” “lest (pen),” “do not (al),” or “you shall not (lo).” The term “arur” (cursed) is not a command form; hence these verses are not formal prohibitions. On the other hand, it is clear they inform us of actions the Torah wants us to refrain from. Thus, the initial insight here is that in a regular prohibition there is something beyond merely informing us that an action is undesirable in God’s eyes. The same holds for positive commandments.

This can be understood by considering the meaning of commandments and prohibitions more broadly. People often think that a commandment or prohibition is merely a verse that informs us what God wants—what pleases or angers Him, or what benefits or harms us, Him, or the world. But if so, these verses would be descriptive, informing us of a certain fact. Not so. Verses that legislate commandments are couched, grammatically and logically, in an imperative form (see the book Yishlach Shoreshav, the essay on “The Eighth Root”). This means that when the Torah commands us not to eat pork, it is not merely revealing that eating pork is abhorrent to God; it is also commanding us not to do it. This is the meaning of “commandment,” as opposed to a merely good or bad act, and this is the difference between a halakhic prohibition and a moral or extra-halakhic wrong.

To sharpen the point, consider an example. Suppose there were no law forbidding people or cars from running a red light, but as a matter of fact it were dangerous. In that case, running a red light would be a bad act, but it would not be a violation. The law that forbids running a red light does not merely tell us the act is dangerous—we already knew that. The law adds the dimension of violation. Once a law exists, running a red light is both problematic in outcome and a breach of the command (the imperative). So too with a Torah command. The command does not create the problematic nature of the act—that exists even without it (on the contrary: because the act is problematic, a command exists). Nor does it necessarily reveal the problematic nature (sometimes it does, sometimes we would know it anyway). Rather, it primarily adds an imperative, turning the act from a harmful or wrong deed into a halakhic transgression. Thus, when one commits a transgression there are two problems: the harmful result the act causes (which is presumably why we were commanded not to do it) and the disobedience to the command. Likewise for positive commandments: one who performs a mitzvah generates a positive outcome (presumably why we were commanded to do it) and also obeys the command.

This is implied by the Talmud in Kiddushin (31a and parallels), which states:

“R. Chanina said: Greater is the one who is commanded and does than one who is not commanded and does.”

And the Ritva there writes:

“[On] R. Chanina’s statement that one who is commanded and does is greater than one who is not commanded and does—our rabbis explained that this is because the Satan prosecutes the one who is commanded, and ‘according to the pain is the reward.’”

That is the common explanation. But he then brings another:

“And our great teacher explained that the commandments are not for the benefit of the One Who commands, but for our merit; and one who is commanded has fulfilled the decree of the King, and therefore his reward is greater than one who did not fulfill the King’s command. Nevertheless, the latter, too, is worthy of reward, for out of goodwill and piety he undertook to perform the commandments of the Holy One, blessed be He. And this applies specifically to commandments which God commanded others and which He desires; but one who, on his own, does ‘commandments’ that the Torah did not command at all—this is what is said (see Yerushalmi Shabbat 1:2): anyone who is not commanded in a matter yet does it is called a simpleton.”[1]

When the Torah commands, performing the act includes the aspect of obeying the King’s command, beyond the spiritual benefit—hence the one who is commanded and acts is greater than one who acts without being commanded. The commanded person achieves two things; the uncommanded achieves only one.

Similarly, the Tosafot Rosh writes there:

“The reason one who is commanded and does is superior is that he constantly worries and is pained, fearing lest he transgress, and he must subdue his inclination more than one who is not commanded, who may desist if he wishes. Moreover, the Holy One, blessed be He, needs nothing from any of the commandments, but He commands and His will is done; therefore the one who is commanded and acts fulfills the will of his Maker, whereas for one who is not commanded and acts it is not fitting to say that he fulfills his Maker’s will, for He did not command him at all; nevertheless, there is reward.”

R. Elchanan Wasserman, in Biurei Aggadot al-Derekh ha-Peshat, in his essay on “Teshuvah,” explains that prohibitions and commandments contain two components: obedience versus defiance (in the person), and benefit versus harm (in the world). See there for several ramifications of this distinction.

Back to the “Arurim”

We can now understand that “arurim” are, first and foremost, improper acts for which there is no command prohibiting them. Therefore, the Torah writes that one who commits them is “cursed,” but it does not place a formal prohibition upon us. One may wonder why the Torah did not impose a regular negative prohibition here; there could be various reasons that I will not explore now (especially since all the “arurim” here concern acts that are prohibited elsewhere by explicit commands; see immediately).

At first glance, “arur” would seem to indicate an improper act without a formal halakhic prohibition. Yet when we look at the list above, we find that each item is elsewhere explicitly prohibited in the Torah. There are formal prohibitions against misleading the blind, idolatry, relations with forbidden kin, and more. We have seen that each prohibition contains two components: the imperative and the harm in the act. If so, from the command alone we would know the act is improper, so why does the Torah also pronounce a curse upon it?

One might suggest the Torah reveals that, beyond a court-imposed punishment or heavenly penalty, there is a curse upon those who violate these prohibitions. But it is unclear why specifically these acts carry a curse, and even more unclear what the curse means and how it differs from a standard heavenly punishment. I would therefore like to suggest another approach.

If we learned the problematic nature solely from the command verse, we could infer problematic status only for those acts and situations that the command forbids (“let the inference be no greater than its source”). It is possible that the “arur” verses teach us that the act is problematic even where there is no halakhic prohibition established by a command. In other words, these verses reveal that the scope of the act’s problematic nature is broader than the scope of what is halakhically proscribed by the command. For example, in Parashat Kedoshim (Leviticus 19:14) we read “You shall not put a stumbling block before the blind (lifnei iver),” which legislates a halakhic prohibition against tripping a blind person, and Chazal expanded it to include causing a person to transgress. [2] Were it not for the verse that pronounces a curse upon one who “misleads the blind on the way,” we might understand that causing a person to sin or placing a physical obstacle are problematic, but only in the situations that fall under the formal prohibition, i.e., only where the command applies. Thus, the verse “Cursed is he who misleads the blind on the way” may be telling us that causing another to stumble is problematic even where no formal halakhic prohibition applies, and one who causes another to stumble in such a case is “cursed.” In such cases, one who follows the formal halakhah alone is a “menuval birshut ha-Torah” (a scoundrel with Torah’s permission), and upon him the Torah pronounces a curse.

What Situations Count as “Misleading the Blind on the Way”?

We now need to show what kinds of situations involve causing another to stumble without a command, yet fall under “misleading the blind on the way.” We can think of various cases in which there is causing to stumble but no formal “lifnei iver” prohibition.

One example is causing a person to sin in a case of chad ivra denahara (“one side of the river”). The Talmud (Avodah Zarah 6b) says the biblical prohibition of causing another to stumble applies only where the stumbler and the one stumbling are on opposite sides of a river. For example, a nazirite prohibited from drinking wine asks me to pass him a cup of wine. If the cup is near him and he nevertheless asks me to hand it to him, there is no biblical “lifnei iver,” since he could commit the transgression even without me. But if we are on opposite sides of a river—i.e., the nazir cannot reach the cup on his own—then handing it to him would violate “lifnei iver.” Note that according to some commentators, even passing on the same side is rabbinically prohibited, called mesaye’a (assisting). But biblically, in chad ivra denahara there is no prohibition. According to my suggestion above, perhaps “Cursed is he who misleads the blind on the way” applies to such a case.

Another example is causing a person to violate a rabbinic prohibition. Seemingly, there is no biblical “lifnei iver” when the transgression is only rabbinic (for biblically he has not sinned). Indeed, some poskim hold this way (a dispute among the Rishonim on Avodah Zarah 22a). But logically this seems implausible, for the Torah prohibition of placing a stumbling block includes physical obstacles, and falling into a pit is surely not a violation; rather, the prohibition upon the causer is to place another into a harmful state—like falling into a pit or committing a sin. If so, causing him to commit a rabbinic prohibition certainly harms him and places him in a worse state, no less than pushing him into a pit. It is therefore very reasonable that one who causes his fellow to commit a rabbinic prohibition violates the biblical “lifnei iver.” In any case, according to those who disagree, such a situation would be a case of causing to stumble without a biblical prohibition—perhaps fitting “Cursed is he who misleads the blind on the way.”

But it seems the best example of causing to stumble without a formal halakhic prohibition, fitting under “misleading the blind on the way,” is found in the Ritva on Sukkah 10b.

Prelude: A Halakhic Look at Pluralism

There are many discussions about whether halakhah is pluralistic or monistic; that is, whether in a given case only one halakhic position is correct, or whether all (consistent) positions are inherently correct. In other words, when there is a dispute, must everyone be correct, or is it sometimes the case that only one is correct and the others are mistaken?[3]

This question is usually discussed in works of philosophy or meta-halakhah, in terms of broad, and often ungrounded, declarations—more agenda than argument. I prefer to discuss such questions through the halakhic medium itself. Examining how halakhah actually operates yields clearer conclusions; we see how it functions in practice, which is the best testimony regarding its character and outlook. This is, as it were, a quasi-empirical, “scientific” approach to the question, proposing that we check the facts instead of adopting philosophical arguments.

How can we formulate this meta-halakhic question as a halakhic one? We must find a situation in which the halakhic ruling would differ depending on the posek’s meta-halakhic stance. The natural case is a dispute between Reuven and Shimon regarding act X. Suppose Reuven holds that X is permitted and Shimon holds it is forbidden. May Reuven cause Shimon to do X? Consider an a priori analysis. If Reuven is a monist, holding to a single halakhic truth, then since he believes X is permitted there is no problem causing Shimon to do it. He caused him to perform a permitted act (by his own view), so there is no prohibition. The fact that Shimon errs does not affect Reuven’s decisions. He need not fear that perhaps he himself is wrong; as elsewhere, he acts according to his best judgment. “A judge has only what his eyes see.” That is the monistic result. By contrast, if Reuven is a pluralist, it is forbidden for him to cause Shimon to act. From a pluralist perspective, the halakhic truth for Reuven is that X is permitted, but for Shimon, X is prohibited; thus Reuven is causing Shimon to transgress, even though Reuven himself believes the act is permitted. Surprisingly, in this case pluralism leads to a stricter stance than monism—contrary to popular assumption. In the reverse situation, where the causer believes the act is forbidden and the one caused believes it is permitted, the rulings flip: the pluralist should permit the “causing,” and the monist should forbid it. Such a case too can help resolve our meta-halakhic doubt about the character of halakhah.

These situations create a kind of laboratory in which to examine the meta-halakhic question—an halakhic litmus test. We must now search the halakhic sources for an answer: may Reuven cause Shimon to perform an act that Reuven believes permitted while Shimon believes prohibited (or vice versa)? The answer will clearly reveal whether halakhah is pluralistic or monistic.

The Ritva’s Ruling

In my essays “Is Halakhah Pluralistic?” and “The Price of Tolerance” I discussed this question and cited the Ritva on Sukkah 10b. There the Gemara records an amoraic dispute regarding sitting beneath sukkah decorations when they hang more than four handbreadths below the sekhakh (thatched roof):

“It was stated: Sukkah decorations that are separated from the sukkah by four [handbreadths]—Rav Nachman said: the sukkah is valid; Rav Chisda and Rabbah bar Rav Huna said: invalid.”

The Gemara then tells of a case in which Rav Chisda and Rabbah bar Rav Huna came to Rav Nachman on Sukkot, and he lodged them in his sukkah beneath decorations that hung four handbreadths below the sekhakh (permitted by him, forbidden by them):

“Rav Chisda and Rabbah bar Rav Huna happened to be at the house of the Reish Galuta; Rav Nachman lodged them in a sukkah whose decorations were separated from it by four handbreadths. They were silent and said nothing to him. He said to them: ‘Have the Rabbis retracted from their position?’ They said to him: ‘We are agents on a mitzvah and are exempt from sukkah.’”

After they sat there without saying a word, Rav Nachman wondered whether they had retracted their halakhic position. They answered that they were “agents of a mitzvah,” exempt from sukkah (it seems they were testing him, laying a trap to gauge his honesty and tolerance toward their stance—or perhaps they were simply teasing).

The Ritva rules that the halakhah follows Rabbah bar Rav Huna and Rav Chisda (the majority). He then infers the following from this narrative:

“‘Rav Chisda and Rabbah bar Rav Huna happened to be at the house of the Reish Galuta; he lodged them in a sukkah whose decorations were separated from it by four [handbreadths].’ That is, even though Rav Nachman (alt. text: the Reish Galuta) did not yet know that they had retracted their position or that they were agents of a mitzvah, he nevertheless lodged them according to his own opinion, and did not fear that for them it would be a piece of prohibition, that they would sit (and recite blessings) in an invalid sukkah improperly, and it would be like placing a stumbling block before one who can see.”

The fact is that Rav Nachman did not take their view into account and seated them in his sukkah even though he knew that, per their view, it was invalid. Only afterward did he ask, apparently out of curiosity, whether they had retracted. Clearly he did not fear that he was causing them to transgress according to their view, even though this was “like placing a stumbling block before one who can see.”

The Ritva’s phrasing is striking. We are familiar with the prohibition against placing a stumbling block before the blind. True, halakhically the prohibition applies even when a person is not “blind.” For example, one may not hand a cup of wine to a nazir even if he knows it is forbidden and intends to drink deliberately. The one passing the wine violates the biblical “lifnei iver” even if the nazir sins deliberately. The Ritva’s expression “like placing a stumbling block before one who can see” may be halakhically correct, but it is not the usual wording. It seems he wants to emphasize that here the recipients were not inadvertent but deliberate. That point will become clearer in his continuation.

He continues:

“Some say that from here we learn that one who feeds his fellow something that, according to his own opinion, is permitted does not violate ‘lifnei iver,’ even though he knows that for his fellow, according to his opinion, it is forbidden, and his fellow is a decisor—since the one feeding is also fit to decide and relies on his own view to feed both himself and others.”

The conclusion seems to be that one may cause his fellow to perform an act that, by the causer’s view, is permitted, even if by the other’s view it is prohibited. The Ritva stresses this applies even if the other is himself a decisor; he is not expected to follow the causer’s position. Both are scholars who disagree—yet it is permitted for one to “cause” the other.

In passing, note that according to the Ritva this case must count as “two sides of the river,” otherwise his difficulty would not arise. If it were “one side,” Rav Nachman would not violate (at least biblically) even if he caused them. Why is this considered two sides? Apparently because the sukkah belonged to Rav Nachman; had he not allowed them to sit there, they could not have done so. Without him, the “transgression,” according to their view, could not occur.[4]

At first glance, then, the Ritva expresses a clearly monistic stance, since he permits such “causing.” In fact this is the straightforward reading of the Gemara; the Ritva merely draws the necessary conclusion. We would thus have a direct Talmudic proof that there is no prohibition against such causing—clear evidence that halakhah is monistic. The “laboratory” has spoken. Yet, as we shall see, it is not so simple.

A Reservation

The Ritva introduces the previous paragraph with “some say,” implying the Gemara does not force this conclusion. Still, as noted, the Gemara does seem to imply it. It appears the Ritva is referencing what he writes next:

“And it seems to me that this is only because the prohibition is apparent to his fellow; if he does not agree, he will not eat. But when the prohibition is not apparent to his fellow—no. As we say there, ‘Far be it from the seed of Abba bar Abba to feed me something that I do not hold to be permitted’ (Chullin 111b). So my teacher ruled.”

The Ritva qualifies: the permission to cause another to act contrary to his own view applies only if the causer alerts him to the issue, i.e., draws his attention to the fact that, by his own view, this is prohibited. In the case of the sukkah decorations, they saw it themselves: anyone can see decorations hanging too low, so Rav Nachman did not need to point it out. But in any case, the permission is conditioned on the recipient being “sighted,” not “blind”—namely, aware of the issue per his view.

This explains why the Ritva earlier used the phrase “like placing a stumbling block before one who can see,” for the permission applies only where the recipient is sighted—he sees the situation and knows that, by his view, it is prohibited. It also explains the “some say”: from Sukkah it is proven that one may cause another to act contrary to his own view, but there is a dispute whether this permission holds when the recipient is unaware (blind) or only when he is aware (sighted). The Ritva cites those who permit even when he is unaware, but he, citing his teacher, holds the permission is limited to when the recipient is aware.

The “Fish in Kutach” Sugya

The Ritva learns this law from the Gemara in Chullin 111b. There we find a dispute between Rav and Shmuel regarding noten ta’am bar noten ta’am (secondary taste transfer). Fish cooked in a meat pot absorb a meat taste that has been absorbed in the pot; that is a second-order taste. The dispute is whether one may eat such fish with kutach (a dairy dip): Rav forbids; Shmuel permits.

The Gemara then reports:

“R. Elazar was standing before Mar Shmuel. They brought fish on a plate, and he was eating them with kutach. He gave some to [R. Elazar], and he did not eat.”

R. Elazar did not eat fish with kutach (stringent like Rav).

Shmuel then said to him:

“‘To your teacher I gave and he ate, and you do not eat?’”

“I gave fish with kutach to your teacher, Rav—who, recall, holds such a mixture forbidden—and he ate. Why won’t you?”

Later R. Elazar asked Rav why he had eaten something forbidden by his own view:

“He came before Rav. He said to him: ‘Has the Master retracted his teaching?’ He said: ‘Far be it from the seed of Abba bar Abba to feed me something that I do not hold to be permitted.’”

Rav explains he could not have imagined that Shmuel would feed him something that, by Rav’s view, is forbidden—even if Shmuel himself permits it. He ate because he did not consider it possible that these were fish with second-order meat taste. Seemingly, this shows it is forbidden to cause another to act against his own view, even if the causer permits it.

From this tension the Ritva proves a distinction between sukkah decorations and fish with kutach. With decorations, the situation is visible to all; therefore one may cause someone who forbids it to act. With fish and kutach, one cannot tell whether secondary taste is present; therefore it is indeed forbidden to cause him. This supports the qualification that the permission applies only when the recipient is “sighted,” not “blind.”

Incidentally, there remains a difficulty: Shmuel did place fish with kutach before R. Elazar (who refrained) and before Rav (who did partake). It seems he held one may cause another even when the recipient is unaware (and in fish-with-kutach the recipient is unaware, as the Ritva notes). Evidently Rav held it forbidden to cause; Shmuel held it permitted.[5] However, the halakhah generally follows Rav against Shmuel in matters of issur, so the Ritva is correct that, as a matter of law, it is forbidden to cause in such a case.[6]

A Challenge to This Qualification

Returning to our discussion: it seems this qualification throws the baby out with the bathwater. If the recipient knows that, by his view, there is a prohibition, then there is no “causing.” In Sukkah, Rabbah bar Rav Huna and Rav Chisda themselves chose to “transgress,” not Rav Nachman. Seemingly, the qualification undermines the monistic proof. In principle, it remains forbidden to cause someone to act against his own view even if the causer permits it (as seen explicitly in Chullin).

But that too is not precise. As noted, the “lifnei iver” prohibition applies even when the recipient is sighted—that is, when he sins deliberately. If a nazir receives a cup of wine and knows he is a nazir and knows wine is prohibited, he could pour it out. He intentionally chooses to drink and sin. Why then does the one handing him the cup violate “lifnei iver”? Seemingly, he “caused himself,” not I. From here we see that when I enable another to sin in a way that, without my help, he could not have sinned, I violate the biblical “lifnei iver” even if he acts deliberately. It is counted as my causing, although the decision was his.[7] Commentators explain that in such a case he is considered “blind” regarding this matter, for without a certain blindness (due to inclination) he would not decide to sin.

This raises a problem with the Ritva’s very distinction. Put it as a dilemma:

• If in such a case there is a prohibition against causing (i.e., on a pluralist assumption), then alerting the recipient to the issue makes no difference. By his view, the act is prohibited, and even if he acts deliberately the causer violates “lifnei iver.” As we saw, if “lifnei iver” applies, it applies even when the recipient is sighted.
• Conversely, if in such a case there is no prohibition against causing (i.e., on a monist assumption), why must one alert the recipient at all? Even without alerting him there is no prohibition, since by your view the act is permitted.

Either way, how can the Ritva distinguish between fish-with-kutach (hidden issue; recipient unaware) and sukkah decorations (visible; recipient aware)? Whether one views halakhah as pluralist or monist, there seems no room to distinguish between sighted and blind recipients.

The Meaning of the Qualification: Tolerance

In my two essays I explained that the Ritva can only be understood by positing a tolerant stance. In brief: tolerance actually presumes monism—one halakhic truth. Nevertheless, although I believe there is one truth, I must respect the autonomy of my fellow who holds otherwise and allow him to act according to his (mistaken) view.

Thus, there are three possible stances regarding halakhah’s character, not just two as we initially thought: (1) pluralistic; (2) monistic and non-tolerant; or (3) monistic and tolerant. Each stance yields a different halakhic conclusion in the sukkah-decorations case (recipient sighted) and the kutach case (recipient unaware).

• If halakhah is pluralistic, causing is forbidden in both cases, regardless of whether the recipient is sighted or blind. As we saw, pluralism does not distinguish between the situations.
• If halakhah is monistic and non-tolerant, causing is permitted in both cases, again regardless of whether the recipient is sighted or blind. As we saw, monism too does not distinguish.
• But if halakhah is tolerant (and tolerance presumes monism), i.e., there is one halakhic truth but I am obligated to respect the other’s autonomy and allow him to act by his view, then there is a difference between a sighted and a blind recipient, as I will now explain.

In the tolerant picture, I indeed believe the recipient is mistaken, and I believe my view reflects the halakhic truth. But tolerance requires me to allow him to act by his (mistaken) view. Therefore, while there is no prohibition against causing him—since by my view he is not sinning (and in monism my view determines that)—I am still obligated to leave the decision to him, i.e., to draw his attention to the potential issue by his view. He will then decide for himself. If he chooses to act contrary to his view, I am innocent, since by my view there is no transgression.

The Sukkah case thus serves as a high-resolution laboratory to probe our meta-halakhic question. Each of the three stances yields a distinct halakhic result in this scenario. This is the experimentalist’s dream: a test case enabling an empirical discrimination among three meta-halakhic positions.

The Ritva’s conclusion, as emerges from comparing the two sugyot, is that halakhah is monistic-tolerant.

Back to “Arur”: What Is the Status of Causing a Blind Person to Stumble in Such a Case?

Note that in practice, where I did not inform the recipient that the situation is problematic by his view, the recipient still does not actually transgress—since in the monistic picture I assume there is no transgression here. What, then, is the nature of the prohibition against “causing” if I did not alert him? After all, there is no sin on his part. It seems the prohibition here is moral, not halakhic. This is not exactly “lifnei iver,” for I did not cause a transgression. Rather, I caused a non-autonomous action (I deprived him of his autonomy)—a morally problematic “causing,” not a halakhic one.

I propose that the verse in our parashah, “Cursed is he who misleads a blind person on the way,” is the source for this rule. Earlier I suggested it addresses a kind of causing that falls outside the formal prohibition—that is, outside the command—yet remains problematic; therefore the Torah pronounces a curse upon one who does this. There is no command here, hence no lav, but there is still problematic causing. Causing someone to act against his own view when, by your view, there is no prohibition is exactly such a case.

Moreover, we can now understand the difference in phrasing between the command in Parashat Kedoshim, which speaks of “putting a stumbling block (netinat makhshol),” and the “arur” in our parashah, which speaks of “misleading (mashgeh) the blind on the way.” Here it is not a neutral placing of an obstacle but the leading of someone who is unaware into a mistaken path. As we have seen, this moral prohibition applies only where the recipient is unaware (a “blind” case); if he is aware and chooses to sin, he has “caused himself.” Therefore the “arur” uses the language of “misleading,” for it speaks only of the case where the recipient is unaware. By contrast, the command applies even where the recipient is deliberate; hence it speaks of placing a stumbling block, not necessarily of misleading.

A Note in the Margins

To complete the picture, here is the Ritva’s conclusion:

“However, where the halakhah has been conclusively decided not in accordance with him, whether for himself or for others, it is forbidden—as is evident from what we wrote in the first chapter of Avodah Zarah and the first chapter of Yevamot.”

If the halakhah has been decided against me, it is certainly forbidden for me to cause another, even if I believe it permitted. In such a case, even if I alert him that this is problematic by his view, I still violate the halakhic “lifnei iver.” This is no longer a case of dispute but a standard case of causing a transgression.

[1] This raises the question about acts of piety beyond the letter of the law. Regarding these, we do not say that one who is exempt yet does it is called a simpleton, and it is of course not “bal tosif” (adding to the Torah). Perhaps his intent is to someone who does such an act and treats it as a commandment. Plainly, only one who treats it as a commandment transgresses “bal tosif.” The poskim dispute this (see Yeshuot Yaakov §658; Artzot ha-Chayim [Malbim] §10; Responsa Dibrei Yehuda §§20–21, and others), and the roots of the dispute are already in the Gemara (see discussion here, and, for example, Rambam, Rebels 2:9). But it seems to me that intention is required in order to transgress.

[2] The Minchat Chinukh claims there is no prohibition to cause a person—even a blind person—to stumble in a physical obstacle, since Chazal removed the verse from its plain sense and applied it to causing a person to sin (see Avodah Zarah 6b). But this is baseless, for “a verse never departs from its plain sense.” Clearly Chazal merely added the prohibition of causing a person to sin; they did not remove the prohibition against physical tripping.

[3] Note my careful wording. A monist can also hold that in some questions there are multiple correct answers; his claim is that there can also be incorrect positions. Not everything is “true.”

[4] One could quibble: they could have slept outside the sukkah entirely had he not allowed them to sleep in his. But they could not have committed, by their view, the violation involving the decorations without him. At least that seems to be the Ritva’s assumption.

[5] A fascinating situation arises: Rav assumed Shmuel would not cause him to stumble, while Shmuel did cause despite Rav’s view that causing is forbidden. This is the same question at a second order: the dispute is not only about the prohibition itself but about the very act of causing a prohibition. Is it permitted to cause another who believes such causing is forbidden? Rav would obviously say no; Shmuel apparently held yes. Do we repeat the same positions at this second level? This seems to be an “anti-paradox” of the sort I described in Column 195.

[6] See the Ritva on Chullin there for a long discussion of these questions; his words there are not entirely identical to what he writes in Sukkah.

[7] If he has no ability to decide, then simply the prohibition shifts to me, and I am considered the one who transgressed. See Rashi at the beginning of Parashat Mattot (Numbers 30:16), “He who causes his fellow to stumble assumes his punishment,” Rambam at the end of the Laws of Kilayim, and the entire law of feeding a minor a prohibited substance directly (sefiya), Yevamot 114a and elsewhere.