The Yitro Portion (5760)

With God’s help, eve of the holy Sabbath, the Yitro portion, 5760

Between Moses our Teacher and Robin Hood

Or: Is There Such a Thing as Moral Robbery

In our portion, Yitro, Moses’ father-in-law, comes to the Israelites in the wilderness and finds his son-in-law, Moses our Teacher, judging

the entire people alone. He proposes to Moses our Teacher a plan for streamlining the judicial system, according to which Moses should appoint

judges at intermediate levels—chiefs of thousands, hundreds, fifties, and tens. Yitro defines the

role of these judges in the words: “And every major matter they shall bring to you, and every minor matter

they shall judge” (Exodus 18:22). By contrast, when Moses appoints them, the Torah uses the words: “The matter

that is difficult they shall bring to Moses, and every minor matter they shall judge” (Exodus 18:26).

The Chatam Sofer, the leader of Hungarian Jewry at the beginning of the nineteenth century, asks why there is

such a difference in wording between the description of Yitro’s proposal and its implementation. The explanation he offers is illuminating:

Yitro understands the difference between the lower court and the higher one as depending on the amount under dispute. The larger case

would be judged by Moses our Teacher, while the smaller one (up to 5,000 shekels) would be judged by the lower court. Moses accepts

Yitro’s advice, but with one substantive reservation: the distinction between the courts is derived from the difficulty

inherent in the ruling, and not from the size of the sum at issue. In a difficult and complex legal problem under Jewish law, even

if it concerns a single penny, Moses our Teacher would adjudicate; and easy cases, even if they concern

large sums, would be handled by the lower courts.

From here we see that “the law of a penny is like the law of a hundred” (Sanhedrin 8a). The obligation to arrive at the truth does not depend on the size

of the amount under dispute. An error regarding a small sum is an error and an injustice exactly like an error in ruling about a

large one. The role of the judicial system is to minimize the likelihood of error, not the amount of money

affected by those errors.

Sometimes this statement is explained by saying that for a poor person a single penny is worth as much as a much larger sum

is to a rich person, and therefore one must be as concerned for the poor man’s penny as for the rich man’s millions.

In my humble opinion, that is not the correct reason. Our concern over an erroneous ruling involving a penny is not

exhausted by the suffering that will be caused to the person who is found liable, but by the very fact that money has been taken here

unlawfully. In this respect there is no difference at all between poor and rich, or between a low sum and a high one. The failure of the

judge is a moral and legal wrong under Jewish law, without any direct connection to the suffering it causes the litigants. When

both sides agree to a compromise, the mediator tries as far as possible to secure the satisfaction of

the parties and to prevent suffering; but Torah law is meant to uncover the truth, not to minimize suffering.

Patterns of treating things differently according to the amount involved, and according to the status of the person wronged, are found everywhere.

Robin Hood, according to the old English folk legend, used to rob the rich and use this money to help

the poor. People sometimes identify with such an act because it does not really matter to the rich man if one takes

from him a sum of money that is trivial by his standards, whereas for the poor man it may be a very significant amount.

There is a common approach in moral philosophy that identifies the supreme moral principle as

producing the maximum benefit, or happiness, for the world’s population (usually the human population). Robin Hood’s actions

are the result of such a moral approach. If by transferring money from one to the other we cause slight suffering to the rich and great happiness

to the poor, then we have increased the total sum of human happiness, and it follows that this is

a blessed act.[1]

There are quite a few people in our society who also behave like Robin Hood. When one walks through a supermarket

and takes something from some display “just to taste,” this is sometimes justified on the grounds that the store owner is

very rich, and in any case “he’s gouging all of us,” so we too can “stick it to him” in return.

The particularly meticulous add that this is still only “on a small scale” compared to what he does to us. The same is true

of the deceptions sometimes practiced against large companies (or our employers), when a person

feels that he is merely taking back part of what they have done to him. One might perhaps say

that there is a little Robin Hood lurking in each of us.

It is worth noticing in this context that when someone steals a large object, or some entire product, from that same

store, everyone condemns his act and denounces him as a thief. Here we see the second aspect

of Robin Hood’s approach: everything depends on the amount stolen (and in the judicial system, on the magnitude

of the wrong done).[2]

Robin Hood’s moral approach is expressed in two related principles: 1. The gravity of

the wrong depends on the amount involved. 2. A wrong done to a poor person is more significant than a wrong done to a rich person.

As stated, in both these respects we can find within each of us a little “Robin Hood”

lurking. We should pay attention to the moral assumptions underlying the acts we perform, and ensure that the

source of our moral code is Mount Sinai, and not Sherwood Forest.

A peaceful Sabbath

This may be placed for respectful disposal in any synagogue or religious school. Comments and responses will be gladly received.

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[1] According to this position, even sadistic abuse of another person could be an act desirable from a

moral standpoint, for the abuser experiences happiness, while the sufferer perhaps suffers less, at least in

certain cases. Not infrequently, moral philosophy reaches absurdities in attempts

to “formalize” moral principles. This philosophical field is prone to failures and absurdities

of this sort by virtue of its very methodological starting assumptions. On this matter, see the article by Prof.

Gershon Weiler in the collection “On the Just and the Unjust,” edited by Marcelo Dascal.

[2] It seems to me that there is another aspect of difference here. When someone else is Robin Hood, we are

less forgiving than we are toward ourselves. It is indeed true that most people do not permit even themselves

to steal valuable objects, but only to “sample,” and here indeed the difference lies in the moral principle

itself. With regard to the first “Robin Hood” principle, I feel that the distinction between oneself and another is

more significant. Very few “Robin Hoods” steal from the rich in order to give to other poor people;

usually they merely “take back” the “wrongs” that were done to them personally.

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