The 'categorical imperative' in Halacha
Noon – 2018
Rabbi Michael Avraham
(Following the articles of Rabbi Yoel Friedman and Rabbi Meir Nahorai)
The aspect presented in this article has been bothering me for some time, but it seems that the debate that began in issue 29 of 'Noon' and continued in issue 3 between Rabbis Nehorai and Friedman regarding the trend of consumerism appropriate for shmita reflects it very clearly. Therefore, I thought that this was the place and time to define it, so that it would be brought up for discussion directly. I would like to point out that the following words are not written as a response to what was said in the previous issue, although I believe that they will clarify the fundamental point of debate, and also express a position on the subject under dispute. The purpose of the article is not to clarify the point of dispute, but to use that dispute to clarify a more general meta-halakhic principle.
First, we must provide a brief philosophical introduction, which will be necessary for us to continue. We will briefly present Kant's 'categorical imperative' and briefly touch on its aspects that are relevant to the discussion that follows.
A. Kant's 'Categorical Imperative'
One of the topics that preoccupied the 18th-century German philosopher Immanuel Kant was the logical basis of moral theory.[1]. Kant rejected the foundation of moral theory on elements in experience. Moral theory is supposed to guide man in relation to the question of what is good and proper, and not to learn this from his actual behavior (=practical anthropology). Therefore, it cannot be derived from any facts (such as our inherent desire for happiness, our inherent moral feeling or fear of God, etc.). Incidentally, I will note that at the end of the discussion, Kant also saw moral theory as a kind of evidence for the existence of God, after he had ruled out all other possibilities (three in number, according to his classification) to prove his existence.[2]What reason does not allow, he repeated and established in his moral doctrine.
The way in which Kant used to justify claims in general, and also the theory of morality in particular, was out of a need for a priori reason (=prior to experience, not requiring facts), and in his language: 'transcendental' reasoning. Therefore, in our context too, he sought an a priori mechanism that would be able to establish our commitment to morality, and define the content of the highest moral imperative, in such a way that all specific moral obligations could be derived from it.
A rather convoluted process, which claims to be deductive in nature (=logically necessary), but is in fact not entirely logically valid.[3]Kant argues that the highest moral principle is the 'categorical imperative', and he even offers a possible a priori foundation for it.
It proceeds from the fact that man is a rational being, and nothing more. Without the aid of experience, the only basis that can support the doctrine of morality is reason. Therefore, the idea of the good and reason are the only basis from which concrete instructions can be derived. Therefore, we must define the concept of 'good' in itself, and from it seek a foundation for our commitment to it.
Kant opens the 'Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Virtues' (this is the book that presents the argument in the clearest and sharpest form) by claiming that there is nothing in the world that is always good without restriction, except the good will itself.[4]Any positive trait, or good behavior, can sometimes be inappropriate, or at least neutral, especially when they come from the wrong motive (i.e. not from the mere desire to be good).
He also makes a clear distinction between the good will and the inclination to goodness and its results. The good will is not good because of its results and goals, but by virtue of the will alone. Its usefulness and fruitfulness are irrelevant to this matter. Both the inclination and the results are facts, and as such they do not concern the definition of the good and moral judgment, which are supposed to be a priori (=prior to experience, and therefore also unrelated to facts).
The central concept in Kant's moral doctrine is moral duty. This is the motivation that the moral will is a desire to follow. Since man is imbued with passions and inclinations, the moral law must appear to him in the form of a command, which is, as it were, imposed on him.[5]. Such an injunction can be hypothetical (=conditional), or categorical. The hypothetical injunction commands some action to achieve an end, and therefore it is clear that the moral injunction cannot be of this nature. The categorical injunction is absolute, independent of any ends or facts. Therefore such an injunction must be universal and uniform, and independent of the person to whom it is addressed, nor of the object of the action.
Kant's conclusion is that the wording of the categorical imperative of morality must be as follows:
Do your actions only according to that practical rule which, by accepting it, you will also be able to will that it become a general law.
The specific practical rule that appears in this wording is a specific behavioral instruction. Of course, this specific application of the categorical imperative can depend on the facts, as well as on people and their natures. For example, the categorical imperative implies that one should not inflict pain on a person, since I would not want there to be a general law that one can inflict pain on people. However, factually, there is a person to whom action A causes pain, and there is a person to whom action A actually benefits, while action B causes pain. In this sense, the application of the categorical imperative depends on certain circumstances and facts. The imperative itself is detached from the factual level, but its applications certainly do not[6]Here we are already entering the question of the implementation of the categorical decree, which is extremely complicated, and therefore[7].
So much for a brief introduction to Kant's categorical imperative.
B. "You shall not serve your neighbor as your slave"
Apparently, we find a saying very similar to Kant's in Chazal as well. In the issue of Shabbat 3, 1 it is stated:
Again, a Gentile came before Shammai and said to him: Convert me so that you can teach me the entire Torah while I stand on one foot. He truly pushed the building in his hand. Hillel came before him, a convert. He said to him: You shall not serve your neighbor – this is the entire Torah, and your hand – it means, utter contempt.
The elder Hillel bases the entire Torah on the principle that we should not do to our neighbor what we would not want done to us. Hillel does not mention the verse "Love your neighbor as yourself" (Leviticus 19:18), but several commentators have already noted that this is where it originated.[8].
Maimonides also defines it this way in the book of Abel (Rish, Chapter 14):
Whatever you want others to do to you, do to your brother.
That is, it defines the obligation to do to others what I would like them to do to me. Similarly, in the Book of Mitzvot, the commandment is:
And the mitzvah of the Lord is that we should love one another as we love ourselves, and that we should be compassionate and loving to our brother as we are compassionate and loving to ourselves in his wealth and body, and everything that he possesses or desires, and whatever I desire for myself, I desire for him as much as he desires, and whatever I hate for myself or for someone who clings to me, I hate for him as much as he desires. And he said, "May God exalt you, and love your neighbor as yourself."
Some have already argued for the relationship between these formulations and Kant's categorical imperative. Ostensibly, the principle appearing here is the same principle we found in Kant, in a positive or negative formulation: not to do something that we would not want to be a general law (or that we would not want not to be done to us).
This similarity can be seen in another Chazal source, and it is in the well-known dispute between Ben Azzai and Rabbi Akiva, which is cited in Yerushalmi (Nedrim 9:4) and in parallels. In Midrash Bereshit Rabbah, parasha 24, it is cited as follows:
Ben Azzai says: This is the book of the history of Adam, this is a great rule in the Torah. Rabbi Akiva says: And you shall love your neighbor as yourself, this is a great rule in the Torah.[9]Do not say, "Because I have been despised, my fellow-people will be despised." "Because I have been cursed, my fellow-people will be cursed." Rabbi Tanhuma: If you have done so, know whom you are despising, in the image of God He made him.
Various interpretations have been given in explaining this controversy; however, we found an interesting interpretation in the R'Avad's commentary on the Sifra in Parashat Kedoshim (and in Matnat Kehunah on Bereshit Rabbah), where he claims that the words "You shall not say" were spoken by Ben Azzai. He argues against the R'A that if we compare a person to his friend, we can reach the conclusion that if I am bad, then I have no obligation to care that my friend does not become bad. To this, Ben Azzai responds in his own saying, which teaches us that even if I am bad, I am nevertheless commanded to care that my friend does well and does not become bad, seemingly more than I am.[10].
The reason for this is given by the neo-Kantian Jewish philosopher, Hermann Cohen, in his book 'The Religion of Reason from the Sources of Judaism'.[11], continuing the verse cited by Ben Azzai: "In the image of God He made him." In other words, universality is the basis of Ben Azzai's method.[12]If Rabbi Akiva sees the moral imperative as a result of a commitment to others, then Ben Azzai sees it as a result of the obligation to resemble God (or perhaps of the fact that every person is created in the image of God).[13]Why is universalism an argument against the fallacy that arises from the R.A. method? Does universalism dictate that if I am in trouble, then I must still care for my friends? How does this relate to universalism? On the contrary, it seems that the comparison that R.A. Akiva makes leads more towards a comparison between all human beings.
This seems to be explained by Kant's categorical imperative. Universality means that you should not do to your friend what you would not want done to you. That is, your duty to your friend does not depend on your actual situation, but on what you would like your situation to be. What is good in your opinion, even if it is not good for you yourself, you should see to it that your friend has it. In other words: do not do to your friend what you would not want to have happen to you (even if it actually happened to you).
Now we can understand the dispute between Rabbi Akiva and Ben Azzai. Rabbi Akiva also accepts the Kantian principle[14], but in his opinion the duty to care for a friend depends on my actual situation. I am not obligated to care for my friend so that he will be better off than me, but rather as much as I am. Ben Azzai argues against him that the mitzvah is to do for a friend what I think will be good for him (or for me), and not what I actually have. If so, there seems to be a great similarity between Kant's approach and the approach of the Sages.
And yet, there are thinkers who nevertheless distinguished between these theories in terms of sources (Hillel, Ben Azzai, and R. Akiva learn this from the verse, while Kant derives his command a priori). There are also those who distinguished between the recipients of the command (Kant insists on the universality of the command, without any dependence on the person in question, while Hillel speaks specifically of "your neighbor"), and so on. Below, we will propose a completely different distinction between the contents of these commandments (although both will find their place within the framework of halakhah).
Unlike the universalist-humanist thinkers we cited, it is difficult for a traditional scholar to interpret these sources in a truly universal sense. It is known that our relationship to Israel is supposed to be different from our relationship to a Gentile. And we have accepted that "your neighbor" is "your neighbor in Torah and in the mitzvot," and one who also "does something with you."
Nevertheless, the discussion between Rabbi Akiva and Ben Azzai shows that the categorical imperative is evidently found in our sources, but it is not universal, as Kant and his followers saw it. It applies at least to the circle of the Israeli nation.
What is the meaning of this commandment? Does it indeed express an a priori reasoning, as Kant saw it, or is it merely a realization of the commandment "Love your neighbor as yourself"? In our remarks below, we argue that this commandment is much broader than the moral aspect, and in this we will detach it from the context of love for Israel in which it ostensibly appears. In any case, it would appear that this is indeed an a priori reasoning, as Kant believed.
C. The debate in 'Tzohar': The 'Categorical Command' in Halacha
As mentioned, in previous issues, a debate took place between Rabbis Nehorai and Friedman regarding the order of precedence of consumption during the Shmita. Rabbi Friedman writes in issue 29:
Our starting point is that we support the sales permit, and even offer it to farmers, where necessary and where there is no suitable alternative. However, the produce of the sales permit will not be a source of supply for the ‘Treasury of the Land’… We do not wish to turn the sales permit into a flag that we must protect. We are at peace with our perspective that looks at the issue of shemitah in a complex and comprehensive way, trying to find solutions at the macro level – for agriculture in the State of Israel and for farmers…
And it is worth emphasizing: bringing the produce of the sales permit into the 'National Treasury' does not constitute a reinforcement for the Jewish farmers who rely on the sales permit. This produce will be marketed in markets throughout the country and abroad, and the 'National Treasury' does not raise or lower this matter...
It can be understood from his words that in his opinion the permit is given to farmers when necessary, but consumers are instructed to try not to consume fruits and vegetables from the sales permit.
Rabbi Nehorai objects to this in issue 3 (following Rabbi Weitman in issue 29), and claims that the two things should be linked together:
I wonder! The sales permit is being trampled on in the streets of the city by significant parts of the religious public, and who will protect it from the detractors? Should we leave the support for farmers to the secular public, who buys everything they can from the large chains?… Is it possible?! The farmer asks: Who will eat my fruits? And the rabbi's answer (who denies the need for the permit) will be: There is a population that is not so careful, they will buy your goods and therefore will not lose anything.
His words raise additional arguments, but I will focus on these passages, as they are the most important to our case, and in my opinion they represent the foundations of the dispute.
At first glance, it seems clear that Rabbi Friedman is right. Consumers of the "Otzar Ha'aretz" are not significant in relation to the produce of the sales permit. Most of the consumption is done by the public who buy these goods unwittingly, and therefore there is no reason to allow consumers to buy this produce if they have a better option (Otzar Beit Din or imports from abroad). Rabbi Friedman also adds in his response that he of course does not support imposing a ban on consuming produce from the sales permit, but what is required of the permit for farmers is only a principled permit for consumption, not necessarily a recommendation for it. In his remarks, he cites an example of a Chabad custom, which he opposes for the same reason, of saving a little finished chametz for Passover (contrary to the accepted halachic recommendation for private individuals not to sell finished chametz, due to concerns about the validity of the sale), in order to strengthen the validity of the sale of chametz.
Before I clarify the basis of the dispute in my opinion, and its connection to the previous chapters, I will address a similar situation that arises with regard to leaven that has undergone Passover. I have always been accustomed to entering a store after Passover that sold leaven legally, and not buying the finished leaven that was sold, but only the produce that was ground and baked after Passover. After years, I came to the realization that this custom is unreasonable. If the owner of a business (a store or factory) were allowed to sell finished leaven because of a large loss[15], then Minya and Biya, I too, as a consumer, am permitted to buy from him after Pesach the goods that were sold in this manner. It is not possible that the shopkeeper or the factory owner were permitted, but the consumer was not permitted to buy from him. After all, if the consumers do not buy from him, what good was the permit to the business owner?
And here, too, an argument like that of Rabbi Friedman can be raised. Usually, most customers who enter the store, or who buy from the factory, do not strictly observe the law of chametz that has passed Pesach, and therefore the question of whether I will buy from him or not is irrelevant. He will not lose anything, even if I consume produce that was ground and baked after Pesach, strictly from the strictest of the strictest. So why instruct observant consumers to buy from businesses that sell finished chametz? Ostensibly, this should be avoided, since there is no need for it. And indeed, the basis of the permit is because of the increased loss of the business owner, and in situations where there is no fear of loss (due to consumption by a population that is not observant), there is apparently no reason to allow observant consumers to consume it.
And here, Rabbi Nahorai argues in the passage above: "And what if we leave the support for farmers to the secular public?" If so, he assumes that even where there is no fear of loss (since in fact the consumption of the observant public is not significant), in his opinion it is nevertheless permissible and even recommended that they also consume this produce. How can one defend such a position (which even my little ego supports)? Is a permit required where there is no real need?
Rabbi Nehorai's words raise several arguments, which I do not wish to dwell on here (and I believe that not all of them are directed against each other). We will concentrate here only on the principled argument presented in the passage cited above. It seems that the only possibility of understanding such an argument is through a 'categorical imperative', Kant's version. Rabbi Nehorai apparently assumes that one should not act in a way that we would not want to be a general law. In other words: the secular public should not be trusted to consume the produce of the sales permit or of the sale of finished chametz, even though this certainly solves the problem. The reason for this is that the situation that we would like to have as a general law is that everyone would observe the mitzvot, and in any case everyone would be as careful as we are, and in such a situation we would certainly be obligated to consume the produce of the permit (or sale of chametz) in order to solve the problem of the farmers (or business owners). Here, this is already a general law, and we have no one to rely on to do the work for us. If so, in a situation where the halakhah becomes a general law, there will no longer be a non-observant public to solve our problems. However, in light of the line of thinking of the categorical imperative, the conclusion is that even in a situation where there is a non-observant public, we should not rely on its existence, and the observant public should be permitted and even recommended to consume the permitted product. This is one reason why other behavior cannot be a general law, according to the halakhah view. If so, behind Rabbi Nahorai's argument stands a meta-halakhic intuition, which is very reminiscent of Kant's categorical imperative.[16].
Rabbi Friedman, on the other hand, apparently believes that such a consideration has no place in halacha. If there is a solution to the problem, even if one that is based on the existence of sinners (or those who are less scrupulous), then there is no fear of loss here, and in any case there is no need to allow consumers to consume less exquisite goods. In another way, it can be said this way: if the situation is not supposed to be a general law, or at least as long as it is not, we are not obligated to act as if this law were indeed a general law. In Rabbi Friedman's opinion, only when a problem arises (that is, when all of Israel flaunts the halacha, or at least scrupulously observes its existence to the level of consuming the sales permit), then we will have to allow consumers to consume these goods, otherwise we are emptying the permit for farmers of its contents.
So, both sides talk about a 'general solution' and a 'systemic view', but their conclusions differ precisely at the point of reference to the 'categorical imperative' explanation. These are two types of universalism, and this dispute is somewhat reminiscent of the interpretation we proposed above of the dispute between Rabbi Akiva and Ben Azzai, and ACM. To clarify the matter, we will add that in contrast to these two approaches, the Haredi approach is apostate in universalism in general. They generally refrain from taking a systemic approach of any kind. They seek only a solution for the individual, without paying attention to the system as a whole, or to those who do not come to ask.[17].
D. A note on the meaning of the categorical imperative in halakha and in general
There is a significant innovation here in the understanding of the categorical imperative in general, and in relation to its halakhic application in particular. We must note that this application of the categorical imperative does not concern questions of morality or harm to others. Generally, the applications of the categorical imperative all concern moral questions. From a moral point of view, it is forbidden to steal because we would not want theft to become a general law (in other words, slightly different: we would not want to be stolen from us either).[18]It is forbidden to murder or harm others, as we would not want that to be done to us or to the world at large. These are formulations that justify moral principles that deal with avoiding harm to others.
However, here the abstention of the strict consumers from consuming goods with a sales permit does not harm anyone. The farmers will not lose (as Rabbi Friedman rightly claims) since their produce will be approved by the entire secular public. The secular will not lose, since they will consume the same thing in any case. And the strict consumers will not lose, but rather the opposite: they will gain more halachically refined produce. If so, why still instruct the strict to buy the produce with a sales permit? As we explained, the reason is a priori, meaning it does not stem from any facts or from any results or goals. Simply because we would not want it to become a general law.
This is the Kantian principle in its truest form, but here it is significantly expanded. There is not only a basis for moral obligations, but there is also a superordinate principle or reasoning that is relevant to areas unrelated to morality: one should always act in a way that we would like to see become a general law.
As mentioned, this explanation has no clear halakhic source. The words of Re'a and Ben Azzai dealt with the moral context, and their subject is an interpretation of the commandment "Love your neighbor as yourself." However, this meta-halakhic intuition does not have a source (provided there is no contradictory source, of course). It is an a priori assumption, as Kant also saw it.
Although there is room to see this in a different way. This application of the categorical imperative can be regarded as a principle that is indeed a moral principle. According to this, the rule that states that we should act in a way that we would like to become a general law is itself a moral imperative. Morality demands that we act consistently, and not be constructed from the existence of those who do not act lawfully.
Although this is a moral principle that does not concern harming or avoiding harming others, it is a moral imperative that concerns a person's own behavior, even if he does not harm others. This imperative instructs him to act consistently, and according to this proposal, this requirement is in the moral sphere.
It is commonly believed that moral precepts concern only the relationship between one person and another (as opposed to 'morality', in its Torah sense, the foundation of the morality movement), but here we can see another possibility: there are moral rules that concern only a person's own behavior, and not their relationship with others. Just as an example, we will note that acts of incest or homosexuality, at least in cases where they are committed with full consent, do not constitute harm to anyone. And yet there is ample room to see them as behavior tainted with moral flaws. The reason for this is that it is unworthy of the image of God that is inherent in us.
And here, here we unexpectedly return to the dispute between Rabbi Akiva and Ben Azzai. We provided above the explanation for the dispute between them, which hinges on the question of whether morality derives from the duty towards one's fellow man (this is the opinion of Rabbi Akiva), that is, in relation to people, or whether it essentially derives from resembling God, the Blessed One, and not from duties to others (which is the opinion of Ben Azzai). Now we see another implication of Ben Azzai's view, and perhaps in the opposite direction: moral duty derives from resembling God, the Blessed One, and therefore it can also touch on actions that do not harm anyone.
Simply put, according to the Rabbi's approach, if he indeed sees moral duty as a result of a commitment to others and not necessarily of resembling God, there is no room for such a conclusion. Duties to others concern only harming or not harming them, and not actions that a person does between himself. If so, it is possible that the two interpretations that we have proposed in this chapter will depend on the Rabbi's and Ben Azzai's dispute, and this should be discussed.
E. Another example: Sabbath desecration
The prevailing rule is that where it is necessary to desecrate Shabbat, it is not preferable to have it done by a secular person. Whoever is commanded to do so should not neglect it, and the poskim have already written that it is commanded to do so by adults, and not by women or children or people of the land. Some have gone further and ruled the same even with regard to situations in which there is no direct justification for desecrating Shabbat, such as situations in which soldiers are required to guard vacationers and travelers who do so on Shabbat in prohibited ways. Here too, there are some poskim who permit this for various reasons, and here too the question arises as to why not use soldiers who do not observe the Tomatz, and try to evade these tasks.
Some will attribute this to the fact that secular Jews are also commanded to observe Shabbat, and therefore there is no benefit in them taking on the task. However, in my article in Tzohar 27 I argued in favor of the approach that a secular Jew (at least an apikors) is not at all guilty of a crime. Should this method at least try to avoid such tasks?
I think not, and the reason is again the reason for the categorical imperative. Since I would not want evasion of the task, if it is indeed required, to become a general law, it would therefore not be right to evade it myself, even where there are other solutions, seemingly more elegant from a halakhic perspective. Solutions that rely on the existence of criminal people and behaviors cannot take a place in halakhic law, since we would not want them to become a general law.[19].
It seems to me that there is a place in halakha for the categorical imperative, in both its meanings. In its narrow moral meaning, it derives, at least for some opinions, from the verse "Love your neighbor as yourself."[20] And in its broader meaning, it is the product of an a priori intuition, and as such it cannot be placed only in a specific context, and its application is completely general. Whoever accepts this way of thinking must apply it to every field, moral or not. The examples of desecrating the Sabbath or consuming produce on a sales permit or selling leaven are good examples of the broader meaning of this explanation.
[1] He deals with this in three of his books, 'Premises for the Metaphysics of Virtues', 'Critique of Practical Reason', and 'The Metaphysics of Virtues'. See also Hugo Bergman's book, 'The Philosophy of Immanuel Kant', Magnes, Jerusalem 1970 (second edition), especially in the chapter 'Theory of Morality'.
[2] Karl Rosenkranz (one of the first to publish a complete edition of Kant's writings) has already said about Kantian ethics that everything he destroyed with the surgical scalpel of the 'Critique of Pure Reason' was resurrected and given a new life in the 'Critique of Practical Reason.' This concerns the belief in the permanence of the soul, in the reality of a just and good God, and religiosity in general.
[3] Although the categorical principle itself and Kantian moral theory in general do indeed appear to the author to be valid and correct. It is only the evidence he brings, which purports to be a priori and deductive, that is not really so. There are many examples, in philosophy and beyond, of an invalid argument that proves a correct claim. See, on this subject, the last paragraph in my response to Rabbi Yoel Ben-Nun's article, Akademut 11 and 10.
[4] Already in the original, the wording is circular, and for good reason, and so on.
[5] Kant devotes considerable effort to showing that there is no coercion here, since this will is the highest, and perhaps the only, expression of human choice. In his view, freedom and liberty are a condition for the moral demand and are not opposed to it. This argument is reminiscent of the approach of the Rabbi (see, for example, the article 'Our Freedom', in 'Essays of the Rabbi', p. 157 and onwards throughout the section dealing with Passover), who sees the aspiration for goodness and the tendencies inherent in us as an expression of our freedom and not systems that enslave us, in the sense that 'the servant of God alone is free.' We will not deal here with this aspect of Kantian moral theory.
[6] The very fact that the content of the moral imperative depends on the question of what I 'want' to be a general law means that its application also depends on the facts, since my desires are facts. And 'want' in this context should not be interpreted as meaning 'chooses' (on the ethical level), since according to this the imperative is emptied of its content and becomes a tautology (= a logical identity empty of content): The good is what you see as good. See also the previous comment on the circularity in the formulation.
[7] For example (which Kant himself gives), in times of distress a person makes a promise to a friend when his prior intention is not to keep this promise. Is this appropriate? Ostensibly, we would not want this to become a general law, not to keep promises. On the other hand, perhaps in times of distress (certainly if the friend is the initiator and cause of it) it is appropriate for this to be a general law?
Incidentally, I would like to point out that in a certain formulation, the halakhic rule of 'no faluj' can also be linked to the categorical imperative, and even more so the principle that things that are forbidden by appearance may not be done even in private rooms. According to this proposal, the interpretation of the rule regarding appearance is: Do not do, even where it is seemingly justified, what you would not want done in other circumstances. Of course, the same objection that we presented at the beginning of the comment can also be raised with respect to this interpretation.
There are many other criticisms of Kantian theory, many of which address various problems in its application.
[8] A good midrash on the above verse, and in the translations there and many more.
[9] Interestingly, in various sources the order is reversed, and there is debate as to which rule is greater. In Sifra, Kedoshim 52, the version opens with the words of the Rabbi as a great rule in the Torah, and Ben Azzai says that his rule is greater than this. Whereas in Bereshit Rabati (p. 57) the version is reversed. Ben Azzai opens, and the Rabbi replies that his rule is greater than this.
What is interesting is that in both of these formulations, the conclusion is that both conditions agree with these two rules as great rules, and the debate is only which of them is greater.
[10] Theodore also commented in his edition of Bereshit Rabbah. See also the collection of essays by H. Y. Ruth, Religion and Human Values, Magnes, Jerusalem 1973, pp. 95-97, and in Auerbach's book, Chazal – Pirkei Amunot ve Deot, p. 526.
[11] Translated by: Zvi Wislavsky, Bialik Institute, Jerusalem, in the eighth chapter and also at the beginning of the ninth chapter.
[12] Ruth also draws attention to the seemingly universalistic mimra of the Rabbis in the Book of Avot: "Beloved is man, created in his image" (Avot 3:14). Although the contradiction in the following mishna which speaks of "Beloved of Israel, who were called sons of the land," is well known, and so on.
[13] These are two different formulations. The fact that every person is created in the image of God can itself be the basis for a commitment to others, and that is the point.
[14] In the note above, we noted that the wording of parallel midrashim indicates that both rules are acceptable under both conditions, and the debate is only about which of the rules is greater.
[15] I will not refrain from commenting here that business owners generally should not have any problem with selling chametz, since from their perspective the intention of the sale is certainly absolute. Unlike a private individual who may not want or seriously intend to sell his food, business owners are certainly interested in having their goods bought from them. So it is not clear: what concern is there at all about selling their chametz? Perhaps the lack of intention is on the part of the buyer (the gentile) who does not take such a transaction seriously (since he knows that in the end he will not actually take the goods), and that is fine.
[16] Editor's Note (E. A.): However, it is possible that Rabbi Nahorai is not claiming that we must consume a sales permit because if everyone were religious, someone would have to consume it, but rather that he is claiming that the religious public should consume the sales permit in order to protect it, and not create a feeling of serious insult among farmers by supposedly doing something whose legitimacy is so questionable that only secular people are allowed to eat from it.
[17] We note that each of the parties raises additional arguments beyond these points, and perhaps they are not even aware of this aspect underlying each of their views (since this analysis makes almost all of the debate between them redundant). In any case, it seems that the 'categorical imperative' approach is, consciously or unconsciously, at the heart of their debate.
[18] This could be another difference between Hillel the Elder and the Rabbi and Kant's approach. And if you want to say this, this is the difference itself that we will present below in this chapter.
[19] I will add two comments here:
A. Of course, in the situation I aspire to (= the general law) there would be no Sabbath desecrators, and in any case there would be no need to perform such tasks. But the existence of offenders is certainly a fact that the law takes into account. Only the instruction to the one who acts should be decided according to the consideration of the categorical imperative. The categorical imperative does not determine reality, or circumstances, but normative instructions in a given reality.
B. To clarify the meaning of my argument, I will note that it would seem that the argument presented in this chapter could also be derived from the halakha according to which Shabbat is profaned by elders, and not by minors, and according to some methods, not by gentiles either (of course, if we understand it as part of the gist of the law and not as a special instruction). But this is a mistake. Even if the halakha were to become a general law, minors and gentiles would not be obligated to observe Shabbat. Therefore, the categorical imperative does not concern these questions, but only the question of whether it is possible to seek help from someone who is obligated but commits offenses and does not act in accordance with his obligation.
[20] Although its main expression is also found in the formulations of the Sages and not in the verse itself. Why did the Sages choose to interpret the verse in this particular way? This seems to be another indication of the a priori and intuitive root of this explanation, even in the accepted moral context of the categorical imperative.