Autonomous Thinking versus Tradition and Authority (Column 304)
I already want to bring to an end the exhausting series we have gone through, so here is a concluding column that deals with a slightly different angle of the discussion.
A few days ago, I was asked whether one should prefer reasonable argument over tradition (in light of the sugya in Shabbat 63b). I answered that the question is not defined, because it depends on the source of the tradition, its reliability, and the strength of the reasoning that stands against it. I wrote that this reminds me of the question whether it is preferable to “force the text” or to “force the logic”, which is also not well defined, and for the same reasons. There too the question is how forced the interpretation is in terms of language and how much better it is logically. The context of the question was probably my statements in recent columns that God does not know in advance what we are going to do (and other statements, mainly those dealing with providence). People occasionally argue against me that I give too much weight to the intellect and to rational consideration over tradition. Do I give “a lot of weight”? Definitely yes. But “too much”? In my opinion, absolutely not.
I do not intend here to re-enter a principled discussion about authority regarding matters of fact, nor into all the considerations that have already been thrashed out on this site to exhaustion. But to conclude the heavy series of last week, I thought (as I wrote at the end of the previous column) that there is room to address the question of tradition versus rational judgment, this time in light of sources. Admittedly, sources are really not needed in such a matter (relying on sources regarding the attitude to sources is problematic), but I shall do so in a “according to your own method” fashion. My goal is to show that even someone who proceeds according to sources and “tradition” can arrive at a preference of reason over tradition. The variety of sources I shall bring is of course not exhaustive. One could have brought several introductions that deal with this topic (even with regard to halakhah, and all the more so with regard to matters of thought), such as the introduction of Shev Shma’ata, the introduction of Igrot Moshe, and others, but I shall not do that here. In the past (for instance here) I dealt with the status of precedent and sources also with regard to halakhah, and as is well known, in my opinion even there their status is greatly exaggerated, this despite the fact that in the halakhic sphere, at least conceptually and in principle, there is room for definitions of (formal) authority, which do not exist in the sphere of thought. But if this is true in the realm of halakhah, then in the realm of thought, the use of authoritarian arguments is nothing but an attempt at silencing, and precisely for that reason it is very important in my eyes to take them apart. The conformity in whose name the holders of such positions speak leads us to cling to baseless and irrational nonsense as if it were binding truths that descended to us directly from heaven and that may not be disputed. The “raison d’être” of my trilogy is entirely directed against this harmful and foolish approach.
In this column I shall focus on three interesting sources: the introduction of R. Shimon Shkop to Sha’arei Yosher, a halakhah brought by the Magen Avraham (Orach Chaim 156), and an interesting letter by R. Avraham ben HaRambam, in which he also cites his father’s view on authority and reason. For some reason it seems to me that the first two sources have already been discussed here in the past, but for now I have not found them. In any case, because of their great charm and importance I bring them here. The main part of the column is the quotation of the sources, which speak for themselves, and I accompany them with a brief explanation, in the spirit of “HaMaspik le-Ovdei Hashem”.
Starting Point
Usually, the use of “tradition” as an argument in a debate reflects a lack of reasons and relevant arguments, what logicians call the fallacy of appeal to authority (sometimes referred to, not precisely, as “ad hominem”,[1] and several other “ad-”s). When your arguments run out, you turn to authority (“after all, even So-and-so, who is a certified genius, thinks like me!”, and the like). The same is true of labels such as “heresy” (“it is heresy to say such a thing against the opinion of all the great rabbis of the generation”, or “of all the sages/wisdom of the generations”, etc.), which I have also dealt with more than once. Needless to say, none of this impresses me in the least, for many reasons. First, it is sometimes based on people who have no proven ability in the relevant field (in my estimation, the Sages of the Talmud and their commentators are not necessarily great experts or particularly skilled in philosophy, logic, science, and metaphysics). Second, intellectual traditions are formed in all sorts of strange ways, and they have their own dynamics: how a certain position takes over the discourse or the consciousness. Third, in many cases there is no real tradition at all, and the expression “against the tradition” or “against all the great rabbis of the generation” simply expresses the opinion of the speaker (whoever does not think like him, by definition, is not among the “greats of the generation” and does not belong to “the tradition”). This may sound silly to you, but if you think a bit you will find that such claims are made every single day. Fourth, the dominant view (and sometimes it is not even dominant) is presented as binding despite the existence of other opinions, simply because there is no other argument. Fifth, in my view, even where there is complete unanimity among all the thinkers, this still does not mean that they are right. There remains room for rational consideration. It is a common expression in my mouth that there is no authority in matters of fact, and one cannot demand of a person to ignore his reason and his own judgment.
As I shall explain below, I certainly give weight to the opinions of wise people, but that weight is not decisive. Moreover, I give no less important a weight to open discourse, and I see no value whatsoever in concealment or conformity. Nor am I full of terrible fears about those simple folk who will be led astray by my view and “will, Heaven forbid, stumble into heresy”, since I present arguments and not binding rulings. The responsibility for one’s views remains with each and every one of us. Beyond that, the holders of the dominant views in the discourse also do not fear that all the fools will follow their opinion (and in fact that does happen). Nothing stops them from publishing their positions (sometimes quite preposterous ones). Therefore, these silencing arguments only increase my motivation to state things more sharply and forcefully.
The Introduction to “Sha’arei Yosher”
I assume that many readers of the site have no need for a preface about my attitude to R. Shimon. He was a truly remarkable Jew. A talmid chacham and Lithuanian rosh yeshiva in the finest sense of the word (a study-partner of R. Chaim of Brisk). Open-minded and endowed with original and courageous thought, with extremely impressive logical and philosophical intuitions (to the best of my knowledge, he had no formal philosophical education). I will note that there are a few “dark spots” in his biography. He was a candidate to serve as rosh yeshiva of Merkaz HaRav, but in the end this did not materialize.[2] What is less well known is his tenure as rosh yeshiva of the Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary (Yeshiva University) in the US, for several months, until he was called back to Europe by R. Chaim Ozer. But don’t tell anyone.
It seems to me that another prominent line in the personality and thought of R. Shimon, which of course greatly increases my fondness for him, was his lack of ulterior motives and his lack of fear in expressing innovative and independent positions (all within a halakhic-Talmudic discussion, which makes me like him even more). This is the point I wanted to focus on here.
The matters I shall discuss are presented in the introduction to his main book, Sha’arei Yosher, where he writes as follows:
And as a first stage in the preparation for one to be worthy of acquiring Torah, the Torah required special conditions, and the first condition is toil and effort… Therefore, Moshe Rabbeinu, of blessed memory, saw fit that these Tablets be broken and that he should strive to receive other Tablets; that is, the first Tablets were the work of God, as was the writing itself, as is explicit in the Torah, whereas the latter Tablets were the work of man, as it is written: “Carve for yourself two tablets of stone”. And the nature of the Tablets is that they are something that upholds and maintains, so that the letters not fly off into the air; and since they were the work of God, they would stand forever, but the second ones, which were the work of man, endure only with conditions and safeguards. And the beginning of receiving the Torah by Moshe Rabbeinu, of blessed memory, was a model and sign for all the people of Israel, the receivers of the Torah: just as the Holy One, blessed be He, said to Moshe Rabbeinu, of blessed memory, “Carve for yourself two tablets of stone”, so too this was an allusion to all receivers of the Torah, that each and every Jew must prepare tablets for himself, upon which to write the word of God, and according to his preparation in preparing the tablets, so will be his reception…
It seems that his words here are based on the well-known midrash about “and in His Torah he meditates day and night” – “his” Torah (see Kiddushin 32b: initially they understood it as the Torah of God, but in conclusion they interpreted it as the Torah of the scholar who meditates upon it).[3]
After that, he explains this further and writes:
And behold, I know that this book of mine will not be accepted by all, for many students are not accustomed to study in the way of analysis, in the analytical method that goes around and revolves in most of the topics discussed in this book of mine, for there are many paths in the Torah and each one finds taste according to his habit. Moreover, most of the topics explained in it are matters that require analysis and effort, and they will not be grasped even by an understanding heart at one mere glance; and not every person is willing to attribute the deficiency to himself, because of the depth of the concept and the deficiency of the comprehender. And I heard a pleasant and acceptable saying in the name of my late brother-in-law, the gaon R. Shlomo Zalman ben R. Kalman Abel of Telz, regarding that which is related in the Gemara (Bava Kamma 20a) in the sugya of “this one benefits and this one does not lose”, that Rav Chisda asked Rami bar Chama a question and he answered him, “When you serve me (as a disciple), I will teach you.” He took a scarf and wrapped it around him – and at first glance this is perplexing. And that rabbi explained that the point is that in a matter that requires analysis and effort, the main thing depends on whether the learner believes in the greatness of his teacher. For if he does not understand at first, he will attribute the deficiency to himself, and will strengthen himself to toil, and then in the end he will understand. But if his teacher’s words are light in his eyes, and it is not worth it for him to exert himself and toil in them, then if he does not accept the words at the first weighing, he will set them aside or dismiss them in his heart, and that is enough for him. Therefore, since Rami bar Chama knew the depth of the matter he wished to teach him, he did not want to teach him until it would be verified that Rav Chisda longs to learn from him like a disciple from his teacher, and therefore he did not teach him this matter until he served him like a disciple his teacher. And the wise will understand.
He explains that one cannot learn from a teacher if one does not grant him initial trust even before he has opened his mouth. Otherwise, everything you learn from him and do not understand at first glance you will dismiss out of hand, and you will end up with nothing but what you had at the beginning. In such a way you will not learn anything new from the teacher. Learning from a teacher means improving and changing perceptions, and this will not happen if the student has no a priori trust in his teacher. Therefore, Rami bar Chama was not prepared to teach Rav Chisda before he served him.[4]
Later on there he presents the other side of the coin:
And likewise I think that only those who hold my words dear even before they have seen or heard them will find desire to study this book of mine, and will deem it worthwhile to deepen their analysis even if they do not understand at the first weighing, and then they will accept my words, with God’s help. But it is fitting to know and reflect, in my opinion, upon what our Sages said in Chagigah 15b: “And how did Rabbi Meir learn Torah from the mouth of Acher? But did not Rabbah bar bar Chana say in the name of Rabbi Yochanan: What is that which is written, ‘For the priest’s lips should keep knowledge, and they should seek the law at his mouth, for he is the messenger of the Lord of Hosts’? If the teacher is like an angel of the Lord of Hosts, they should seek Torah from his mouth, but if not, they should not seek Torah from his mouth.” And the Gemara concludes: This is not difficult: here (the prohibition) refers to a minor, and here (the permission) refers to a great sage. And it is fitting to understand, according to this, how Rabbi Yochanan could state his words in a way that applies only to a minor and not to a great sage. And it is possible to say that if we examine closely what Rabbi Yochanan said – “they should seek the law at his mouth”, and he did not say “they should learn from him” – then in truth, one who learns from his fellow is not learning from the teacher’s mouth, but hears and weighs with the scales of his own intellect, and he understands the matter. Such a person is not learning from the mouth of his teacher, but from the teacher’s intellect. “Torah from the mouth” is considered only when one accepts the words as heard without critique. And concerning this Rabbi Yochanan said that to receive Torah from the mouth, it is proper only if the teacher is like an angel of the Lord of Hosts.
Even if you place trust in your teacher, this does not exempt you from weighing his words on the scales of reason. Granting trust is intended only to ensure that you will examine the words again and again before dismissing them. But if in the end you are not convinced, you must not accept the words even though they were said by a teacher in whom you have great trust. It seems to me that this is the proper basis for the appropriate attitude to tradition and its bearers: honor him and suspect him. A beautiful source for this can be found in the words of the Magen Avraham, which are also very dear to me.
A Source from the “Magen Avraham”
The Magen Avraham in Orach Chaim 156 brings a collection of many halakhot for which he did not find any other suitable place. Among other things, he brings there the following halakhah:
If one heard a ruling and it seems to him that the halakhah is so, he is permitted to say it in the name of a great man, so that it will be accepted from him [Eruvin 51a and Pesachim 112a]. And at the end of Masechet Kallah it is stated: One who says something in the name of a sage when he did not learn it from him causes the Shechinah to depart; and so it is in Berachot 27b in the Tosafot, see there – and the matter requires investigation.
From two Talmudic sugyot it emerges that it is permissible to state a halakhic ruling in the name of a great man who did not say it, merely in order that it be accepted from him. Admittedly, in the end he is in doubt about this, but even the first side requires understanding.
I have already pointed out here in the past (again, I have not found it now) that this is very puzzling. Seemingly, a total ignoramus can cause his fellow to stumble in halakhah merely because that is what he thinks. How can it be that halakhah permits a person to do such a false thing? I shall add another observation. We find great anger against forgers of halakhic sources, such as the forged Jerusalem Talmud on Kodashim and the like, even though seemingly, according to the MA, the forger acted entirely in accordance with the law. So why the anger?
In my opinion, there is no doubt that this (halakhic?) ruling of the MA implicitly assumes that even when one hears a halakhah in the name of a great man, one is not supposed to accept it. If there were an obligation to accept a halakhah that one hears in the name of a great man, it is clear as day that there would be no permission whatsoever to do such a thing. Yet now it is not clear why one should state it in the name of a great man. If the halakhah will not be accepted even when said in the name of a great man, then what is this permission for? Is one permitted simply to lie? It seems that this permission to lie is intended to allow me to persuade the listener to weigh my words seriously before forming an opinion about them. According to my suggestion, we are dealing with a person who feels that his arguments are not being given due consideration and are dismissed out of hand simply because people look down on him. Such a person is allowed to relate his arguments in the name of a great man, so that the listener will consider the arguments seriously, and then decide whether to accept or reject them (for the assumption is that even something said in the name of a great man there is no obligation to accept).
We can now also understand why anger arose against the forger of the Jerusalem Talmud and his likes. The Talmudim have a binding status, and a halakhah written in the Talmud must be accepted. If a person hears a halakhah written in the Talmud, he is obliged to accept it, and therefore it is clear that in such a case there is no permission to say something in the name of the Talmud so that it be accepted from him. In such a situation the listener cannot weigh the matter with his reason, since he is obliged to accept it, and therefore there is clearly no room for permission to lie and to ascribe to him a source of authority.
This Talmudic directive constitutes a beautiful source for the position of R. Shimon Shkop, according to which one should give respectful consideration to a great person and take his words seriously before forming a view, whether to accept or to reject, but at the same time there is no obligation, and indeed it is forbidden, to accept the words merely because they were said by a great person. In the final analysis, my view is supposed to be determined solely by me and on the basis of substantive arguments, and not on account of the person (ad hominem).
Two Reasons to Beware of Appeal to Authority
Two reasons can be proposed for this: first, even an expert can err. Second, there is a moral obligation to form positions autonomously (although this is mainly true with respect to norms and less so with respect to facts).
In this context it is worth seeing, in the blog “Sharp Thinking”, the introductory words of Gilad (the author of the blog), in a column that deals with appeal to authority:
Recently we have talked about appeal to authority. We dealt mainly with pseudo-experts, or with real experts who give advice outside their area of expertise. Today we will go up a level and meet an expert who makes claims within his field of expertise. Even in such a case, it is important to apply sharp thinking. Sometimes the matters really are beyond our education or intellectual capacity, but not always. Do not underestimate your abilities. Think, and ask questions!
I recommend reading the entire column; it really discusses a fascinating example of an accomplished purveyor of nonsense who is apparently a person of expertise and authority.
It is important to note here that the fallacy of appeal to authority is not a fallacy in the full sense, since the words of someone with genuine professional authority are indeed worthy of trust. I shall not forego the rare opportunity to agree with Rabbi Moshe Roth, who makes this point here. I will only point out that appeal to authority is nonetheless a fallacy when the authority is taken as an argument that causes us to give up examining the matter on its merits. This is exactly what we saw in the MA and in the introduction to Sha’arei Yosher. Wise people deserve respect, but not unqualified trust. In this column I deal with the fallacy of appeal to authority only in this sense. Incidentally, Rabbi Roth in that article directs his words in defense of tradition against its assailants, and therefore he focuses on the first part (that appeal to authority and appeal to the majority – ad populum – are not fallacies). I think it is no coincidence that he ignores the other side of the coin, namely that reliance on the majority and on authority as a substitute for arguments is indeed a fallacy. In my estimation, some of his claims against me are based on precisely this, that I attack tradition and various authorities (our substantive dispute over the question of providence, were it not for his fallacy of appeal to majority and authority, would, in my estimation, not be taking place at all. It would be clear to him as well that I am right).
A sharp and clear expression of this autonomous approach can be found in the words of Rabbi Avraham ben HaRambam, which we shall now see.[5]
The Letter of Rabbi Avraham ben HaRambam
In the introduction to the first volume of Ayin Yaakov there are several essays dealing with the proper attitude to Aggadot Chazal. Among them is a letter by Rabbi Avraham ben HaRambam (=RaABaM),[6] in which he presents an autonomist position like the one I have described so far.[7] I now wish to bring most of the first part of his words and accompany them with my own comments:
Know that you must know: anyone who wishes to uphold a certain view, and to show favor to the one who expressed it, and to accept his view without examining and understanding the content of that view – whether it is true or not – this is among the bad traits, and it is forbidden by the way of the Torah and also by the way of reason.
To accept something only because someone else said it is forbidden by reason (by the way of intellect), which is quite clear, but RaABaM innovates that it is also forbidden by the way of the Torah.
It is important to note that the term “de’ot” (views) in Chazal and the Rambam is used in two senses: opinions and character traits. For example, Hilchot De’ot in the Rambam does not deal with correct beliefs but with good character traits (the golden mean). I assume that here too, when he writes “among the bad de’ot”, his intention is that this is a bad character trait. Note the deliberate reversal he makes in his words compared to the common conceptions: it is commonly thought that standing by your own view and assigning too much weight to your own intellect is a bad trait (arrogance), whereas subjugation in the face of the sages and accepting their view is a good trait (humility and the quest for truth). But here RaABaM says precisely the opposite: self-nullification before authority is a bad trait, and autonomy is a good trait. The reason is that standing by your own view does not necessarily express arrogance, but autonomy, and autonomy is an important religious and moral value (see on this, for example, in my articles here and here).
He now explains this opening assertion:
It is not in accordance with the way of reason – because he thereby causes deficiency and lack in his reflection upon that which he must believe.
It contradicts reason and logic because if you assign too much trust to matters that are stated to you, you will not delve into them and investigate them, and therefore you may not understand them properly. It is interesting that, contrary to what I would have expected, RaABaM does not base this on the reason we would expect: that you will simply accept falsehoods as truths.
But immediately afterward he does bring this expected reason as well:
And it is not in accordance with the way of the Torah – because he deviates from the way of truth and turns away from the straight line.
It is interesting that in his eyes this reason is the basis specifically for the Torah prohibition and not for the prohibition by reason. To accept falsehoods as truths (for even a very wise and highly expert man can err) is a Torah prohibition, and the sin against reason is that even if that truth is correct, if you adopt a policy of acceptance by appeal to authority, there is a chance that you will not fully grasp the matter.
Apparently sensing the reversal he has made here, RaABaM now brings Torah sources for this prohibition:
God, blessed be He, said (Leviticus 19:15): “You shall not show favor to the poor nor honor the great; with justice you shall judge your fellow.” And He said (Deuteronomy 1:17): “You shall not recognize faces in judgment,” etc.
Admittedly, these sources do not speak about accepting views and opinions, but one can understand from them that the same problem exists also in accepting beliefs by virtue of authority. Note that from these verses it emerges that just as it is forbidden to accept a view merely because its proponent is wise (“great”), it is also forbidden to reject a view merely because its proponent is foolish (“poor”). The consideration should be substantive, about the view and its argument themselves (“with justice you shall judge your fellow”).
This is apparently what he means in the next sentence:
And there is no difference between accepting that opinion and maintaining it without proof, and between believing the one who expressed it and showing favor to him and asserting that the truth is with him without doubt, because he is a great man – “Heman, Calcol, and Darda” (I Kings 5:11). For all this is no proof, but forbidden.
The other side of the comparison is missing here (“And there is no difference” between what and what?). From what I wrote above, I assume his intention is that to the same extent it is forbidden to reject a view due to lack of respect for the person expressing it (as we saw above in the MA).
Now comes a radical conclusion:
According to this introduction, we are not obliged, because of the great stature of the Sages of the Talmud and their nature, due to the perfection of their understanding in the interpretation of the Torah and its details, and the integrity of their statements in clarifying its general principles and particulars, to show favor to them and to uphold their view in all their statements regarding medicine, and in natural science and astronomy, and to believe them as we believe them in interpreting the Torah, whose ultimate wisdom is in their hands, and which was transmitted to them to teach to mankind, as it is written (Deuteronomy 17:11): “According to the Torah that they shall teach you,” etc.
He does not content himself with the sages of the generations but goes back all the way to the Talmud. He argues that we are forbidden to accept the words of the Sages of the Talmud merely because they are wise. The reason is that their scholarship in the field of Torah does not mean that they are correct in other fields. But this is surprising, since in light of what we saw above, he should have said that even if they were scholars in all fields, we would still be forbidden to accept their words only because of that. Moreover, his words imply that in the Torah sphere in which they are indeed scholars, we are obligated to accept their words.
It seems to me that we should be precise in his language. When he explains their authority in the Torah sphere, he brings two different reasons: “for the ultimate wisdom of it is in their hands, and it was transmitted to them to teach it to the people.” They are both great scholars in this field (they possess substantive authority) and they are also the authorized body in the Torah sphere (formal authority).[8] In light of the introduction, it seems that his main intention is the second reason, i.e. formal authority. Were it not for that, in his view, even in the Torah realm it would not be proper to accept their view.
Indeed, we find this explicitly in the words of the Kesef Mishneh at the beginning of chapter 2 of Hilchot Mamrim, who wrote:
And if you will say: if so, why do the Amoraim not dispute the Tannaim? For everywhere we challenge an Amora from a Mishnah or a Baraita, and we must say: “I say like such-and-such a Tanna”, and if he does not say so, the difficulty remains, and according to the words of our master (the Rambam), they are allowed to dispute the words of the Tannaim. And it is possible to say that from the day the Mishnah was sealed, they established and accepted that later generations would not dispute earlier generations, and so they did also regarding the sealing of the Gemara, that from the day it was sealed no one was given permission to dispute it.
He does not explain this by saying that the Tannaim were greater (even though this may be true), but by saying that we accepted upon ourselves their authority. See also in my aforementioned article about authority and autonomy.
RaABaM now continues and brings a source for his words:[9]
You see the Sages – in a matter that had not been clarified for them by way of their reasoning and dialectic – saying (Chullin 124a): “By God! Even if Yehoshua bin Nun had said it, I would not have listened to him.” That is, I would not have believed him, even though he is a prophet, since he has no ability to inform the matter with intent by way of the reasoning and dialectic and methods by which the Talmud is to be interpreted. And this is sufficient as evidence and proof.
Up to this point we saw the principle derived from “you shall not honor the great”. Now RaABaM continues and applies “you shall not show favor to the poor”, which brings us to the other side of the coin:
Nor will we ascribe to them failure, since we find that they said that the words of medicine mentioned in the Gemara had not been verified and sustained, such as the stone of pregnancy (Even Tekumah) of which they said (Shabbat 66b) that it prevents miscarriage, and which was not verified; and similarly many matters that they discussed in the eighth chapter of Shabbat (109b), etc.
Just as we shall not accept the words of the Sages in fields where they have no authority merely because of their wisdom, so too we are forbidden to belittle their correct words merely because they erred in other matters.
From the Sages of the Talmud, RaABaM moves on to Aristotle (who was the greatest of the philosophers, one degree below prophecy, according to the Rambam), and even with him he presents the two sides we saw:
Similarly, we are not to ascribe to Aristotle and say: since he is the master of the wise philosophers and established true demonstrations concerning the existence of the Creator, blessed be He, and the like among the true things attained by demonstration, then the truth must also be with him in his belief in the eternity of the world, that the Creator does not know particulars, and so on. Nor are we to declare him false and say: since he erred in these beliefs, he must have erred in all his statements.
And the conclusion:
Rather, we and every understanding and wise person must examine every view and every statement in the manner in which it ought to be examined – and to verify and uphold that which should be upheld, and to nullify that which should be nullified, and to refrain from deciding in that regarding which neither of the two opposing sides has been proven, whoever may have expressed it. Just as we see that they, of blessed memory, said (Yevamot 76b): “If it is a halakhah (a received tradition), we shall accept it, but if it is to be derived by reasoning, there is a refutation.” And so they do regarding what has not been decided between the two sides, and they leave it by saying (Shabbat 5a): “Teiku” – let it stand; and they retract their view once it has been clarified to them otherwise, as they say in many places (Ta’anit 26b): “So-and-so changed his mind,” “Beit Hillel retracted and ruled like Beit Shammai” (Mishnah, Eduyot 1:12). And greater than this, in their confession and their love of the way of justice, they said (Niddah 69b): “Rava appointed an Amora over him, who expounded and said: ‘The statements I said before you were mistaken in my hands’.” And things of this kind and the like are not to be understood and contemplated due to the greatness of his counsel and wisdom, but because of the proofs and demonstrations that support them. And thus my father, my master, of blessed memory, said in the Guide, and this is a clear matter and a simple issue in the eyes of all who turn away from the lusts of their body (Guide of the Perplexed I, 34).
And since we are dealing with appeal to authority, let us note that at the end of his words here he mentions that the source of this approach is his father, the Rambam.
He concludes this part of his words with a fascinating sugya in Pesachim 94b (which was similarly interpreted already by the Rambam). Let us first present the sugya and then see to what it is directed. The Gemara brings two disputes between the Sages of Israel and the Sages of the nations of the world:
Our Rabbis taught: The Sages of Israel say: The celestial sphere is fixed and the constellations revolve, and the Sages of the nations of the world say: The celestial sphere revolves and the constellations are fixed. Rabbi said: A refutation of their words is this: we have never found the constellation of Taurus in the south or Scorpio in the north. R. Acha bar Yaakov raised an objection: Perhaps it is like the bolt of a millstone, or perhaps like the hinge of a door.
The first dispute is about whether the constellations (the stars) are attached to the sphere and revolve with it (on it), or whether it stands still and they revolve by themselves. Rabbi brings a proof for the Sages of Israel from the fact that there are stars that do not revolve, and therefore it is clear that those that do move are moving independently. Already here we should note that Rabbi does not dismiss the words of the Sages of the nations merely because of the speakers, but brings a proof for his own view. Immediately afterward, R. Acha bar Yaakov refutes his proof, thus leaving the position of the Sages of the nations intact. We see from here that the discussion is conducted entirely on the merits of the matter, with arguments back and forth, ignoring the identity of the speaker.
Now another dispute is brought there:
The Sages of Israel say: By day the sun travels beneath the firmament, and by night above the firmament, and the Sages of the nations of the world say: By day the sun travels beneath the firmament, and by night beneath the earth. Rabbi said: Their words appear more correct than ours, for by day the springs are cold and by night the springs are hot.
Here the dispute is about the sun’s path at night: does it pass beneath the earth (Sages of the nations) or above the firmament (Sages of Israel). In this case Rabbi brings a proof for the Sages of the nations (the waters of the springs warm at night, which proves that the sun passes beneath them at night and heats them). Let us set aside, for the sake of discussion, the anachronism and the detached conceptions of physical and astronomical reality (the earth and the firmament are presented here as two thin planes, one above the other), and the preposterous argument Rabbi brings in favor of the conclusion of the Sages of the nations (which we know today is correct). The course of the discussion proves the intellectual honesty with which it is conducted and ought to be conducted.
Now back to RaABaM, who brings from here a proof for his position:
And I have seen fit to bring here a statement that our Sages expressed, and I will explain it to you so that in your mind will be settled and accepted their love of truth and their confession thereof, whoever may have expressed it. Our Sages said in the Gemara, Pesachim (94b): “Our Rabbis taught: The Sages of Israel say: The celestial sphere is fixed and the constellations revolve, and the Sages of the nations of the world say: The celestial sphere revolves and the constellations are fixed, etc. Rabbi said: Their words appear [more correct] than ours, for by day the springs are cold and by night the springs are hot”… And when Rabbi heard these things, which are consequences of the premises over which they had initially disputed, he decided the view of the Sages of the nations of the world on the basis of this proof. For he said: “Their words appear more correct, for by day the springs are cold and by night the springs are hot.”
And behold, this is so even though this proof is weak and feeble, as you see. Now consider what this baraita has taught us, and how precious is its content, that it taught that Rabbi did not look at these views except on the basis of the proofs, without paying attention either to the Sages of Israel or to the Sages of the nations of the world. And he decided in favor of the Sages of the nations of the world because of this proof, which he thought an acceptable proof, that by day the springs are cold and by night the springs are hot… This is what he meant by “their words appear [more correct]” – an expression indicating decision… And they said: “The Sages of the nations of the world have defeated the Sages of Israel.” And indeed, this master is called “Our holy teacher” (Shabbat 118b), for a person who casts away falsehood from before him and upholds truth and decides in its favor, and retracts his view when its opposite has been clarified to him, there is no doubt that he is holy.
Rabbi himself receives, from RaABaM, in passing, a rebuke regarding the quality of his proof, but beyond that he receives great praise for the intellectual honesty he displayed in the discussion. It is possible that this entire anachronistic discussion attains importance only because of the moral and intellectual lesson that emerges from it (for there is no doubt that the astronomy to be learned from here is outright bitul Torah).[10]
Moreover, Rabbi merits the title “holy” not because he was right and not because he is meticulous in mitzvot, but because he behaves with intellectual honesty and examines everything on its merits. And from the other side of the coin, the title that befits Rabbi for his intellectual honesty is not “upright” or “wise”, but “holy”. This is another expression of what we saw in RaABaM’s words above, that intellectual honesty is an obligation by the way of the Torah and not only by the way of reason. As mentioned, this lesson learned from the passage in Pesachim is also taken from his father, the Rambam (see Guide of the Perplexed, II, end of chapter 8). Throughout this essay it seems that RaABaM expresses both his father’s view and his own.
There is no better way to summarize this column than with the concluding sentence of RaABaM:
And thus it has been clarified to us that the Sages, of blessed memory, examine opinions and do not look at them except from the perspective of their truth and the proofs for them, not in light of who expressed them, whoever he may be.
And as for the rest – go and study.
[1] Ad hominem is the fallacy of addressing the person who speaks rather than the argument. Appeal to authority is a particular type (which has some justification; see below) of ad hominem.
[2] Opinions differ as to why this did not materialize. See, for example, Shmarya Geshuni’s article, in which he showed that it was Rav Kook who prevented this. See also at the end of his article here.
[3] Compare also to the well-known midrash about Avraham Avinu, Bereishit Rabbah, Chayei Sarah, parasha 61, s.v. “Ko (1) vayosef”, and parallels.
[4] In a panel at the National Library I pointed out another angle of this sugya. I argued there that the requirement that Rav Chisda serve Rami bar Chama was stated specifically in this sugya, because there is a kind of “hakirah” of the later authorities here, and this seemed to the Sages of the Talmud, who were not accustomed to this, as something wondrous and deep that is hard to grasp. Nowadays, our hearts are coarse with regard to such things because we have grown used to them. Here on the site I once brought another example of this, from the “wonderful point” of the Rambam in his Commentary on the Mishnah, Keritot, where he is enthusiastic about a novelty that today can be found in every Torah article by an average kollel fellow.
[5] I discussed this in “Halakhah and Reality”, lesson 6.
[6] From the beginning of his words there it emerges that this is apparently an introduction to his book, HaMaspik le-Ovdei Hashem, most of which has been lost to us.
[7] The text here is taken from the edition of this letter on the Daat website.
[8] Regarding the distinction between these two types of authority and their definition, I elaborated in the last two books of the trilogy, and these matters were also mentioned in Column 280. In brief: formal authority of an institution or person means that one must accept his words by virtue of the fact that he said them (even if he is not correct, like the laws of the Knesset). Substantive authority is the authority of an expert, based on the assumption that there is a reasonable chance that he is not mistaken (like the authority of a doctor).
[9] This is, of course, a source of inspiration and not a source of authority; otherwise he would be inconsistent. That is exactly what I am doing in this column.
[10] It is interesting to compare this with the view of Rabbeinu Tam (see Gilyon HaShas there; the words are also brought in Shitah Mekubbetzet, Ketubot 13, s.v. “Heishivtani”), who wrote that although the proofs pointed in favor of the Sages of the nations, it is clear that those who are correct are the Sages of Israel. He assumes that the truth must be on the side of the Sages of Israel and behaves in a manner entirely opposite to the policy of intellectual honesty of the Rambam and RaABaM. According to him, one must accept the words of the Sages of Israel because they are certainly correct even in scientific matters.
It is a bit difficult to understand why they must be correct in the conclusion but can err in the proofs. If they are immune to error, then presumably their proofs should also be flawless. One can perhaps say that the conclusion reached them by tradition from Sinai, and therefore it is correct, whereas the proofs were offered by way of reason, and therefore error can creep into them. If this is so, then Rabbeinu Tam too does not deviate from the path of RaABaM and the Rambam. However, it is not clear whence he derived that they had a tradition from Sinai about this (especially since it is clear today that they were mistaken).
Discussion
That analogy is of course a huge compliment for me.
And if we come to personal confessions: on the surface, what personally pushed me away from immersing myself in Gemara study was the book Sha'arei Yosher. When I started learning it in order (as much as possible), at first I had a kind of feeling of “finally, some relief.” I’m not talking only about the phenomenal command and the systematic method, but about the questions and the insistence that things be understandable, and when one gets stuck and there’s no choice, then one adds a speculative/intuitionist idea, as limited as possible, and grafts orchards out of it. But what can I do—after the enormous questions, on second or third thought I just “don’t connect” to the answers (at first I did, somewhat the reverse of what is described in the introduction. And also the opposite of what is described in the column—where the appreciation is focused on the answers). To speak this way from above without examples is rather pointless (and in any case, whoever connects will connect), but to give examples one has to set aside time and describe and formulate.
“In my opinion, the sages of the Talmud and its commentators are not necessarily great understanders or possessors of extraordinary skill … in logic…”
Does the Talmudic Logic project, in which the rabbi was a partner, not claim that the sages of the Talmud had logical thinking?
Regarding the words of R. Shimon Shkop—
His words imply that there is indeed a special attitude toward the sages, in which every word of theirs must be weighed with full seriousness and care.
It is hard to distinguish in your case between substance and style, but sometimes the impression is that you dismiss the words of your predecessors, in halakhah or in outlook, with a wave of the hand: “I’m not bound by that,” or “sources are of no importance at all.” You seem more to belong to his description: “if he does not accept the words at first weight, he will set them aside or nullify them in his heart, and that is enough,” which he identifies with a failure to recognize the stature of the teachers.
Regarding the Magen Avraham (in terms of his halakhic opinion)—
The Magen Avraham refers to the Gemara in Berakhot and the words of the students of Rabbenu Yonah, where it is written explicitly that to say something in the rabbi’s name that one did not hear from him “causes the Shekhinah to depart from Israel.” They resolved the contradiction (which is really a contradiction in the Gemara) in several ways, one of them being that if he “heard” the halakhah from a sage, he may attribute it to another, greater sage, but not something he said on his own reasoning. And that also seems implied by the Magen Avraham, who wrote “heard a ruling,” and did not write “if a ruling seems to him from his own reasoning.”
That is, one may alter things in order to promote an existing view, but not for your own innovation. And it seems to me that there is logic to this, because otherwise the way is open for every ignoramus to say whatever he likes (especially since the listeners are not always capable of weighing his words seriously or rejecting them).
In the article on "Shakrakim," the rabbi discusses the Magen Avraham.
In the Babylonian Talmud I have encountered countless times statements that a certain Amora accepted solely because of the authority and wisdom of the one who said them.
But how will I know when my reasoning is “powerful” enough?
Even if I read philosophy books and think to myself that I have acquired philosophical skills, who says I’m not just talking nonsense if I have no one to check, correct, and guide me at every step? And even if I do have such a person, who says Aristotle, for example, or some other ancient philosopher, could not correct him?
In such a situation, isn’t it better and more responsible for me to stick to the “prevailing opinion”? Or to one of the views already found in our tradition, without resorting to some new opinion? Must tradition necessarily come under the wings of philosophy? Is philosophy / are philosophers today wiser than in the past? I’m completely confused…
I would be happy to hear answers also from people who acquired skills over time and can explain this to me.
Hello Rabbi.
I noticed that both in the books and on the website, you emphasize that there is no point in bringing a source—that one should not give precedence to a source over a thought that logic has led me to, because that would actually contradict the whole idea. And nevertheless, the rabbi does bring them..
My question is: beyond the logical fallacy, which the rabbi points out every time he brings proof for his views from the sources, there is another fallacy here as well… after all, it is clear that compared to the sources the rabbi brings, there are thousands upon thousands of sources about the power of authority and our obligation toward those greater than us… this is an ancient myth deeply rooted in the sources. Doesn’t that make it somewhat flawed to bring support from the sources?? I’ll give you an analogy: it’s like bringing a source for divine providence from rare/sporadic cases in which God really does intervene.
A rabbi who is like an angel is worthy to receive from…
Are not the rabbis of the medieval period who lived in poverty and extreme hardship—like, for example, the Tosafists, several of whom were almost killed a number of times or actually were killed by gentiles, and all their lives lived in fear of them—
and nevertheless wrote truly amazing works… in my opinion, the commentaries of R. Isaac (whose son Elhanan was murdered during his lifetime by gentiles) are simply amazing… such a coincidence that arranges the sugya wonderfully together with all the other sugyot—it gladdens the heart!
Are they not in the category of angels? It is clear to me that the intent is not that they are literally angels who do not sleep and do not need to eat, but rather that they are wholly immersed in wisdom and refine attention to their bodies only as needed for bare existence.
(In practice, you do not really take their view into account even though you say you respect them very much etc.—where is that expressed, at least in the realm of halakhah… in the realm of thought, really one cannot force what to think, but in halakhah don’t they deserve authority???)
Is there any substance to what I’m saying?
They had good logical intuitions. But logical skill is something else. They did not formalize anything.
Regarding your first question: that is always how one argues from “according to your own view.”
The intention is to prove to the other side that even from within its own conception, it is not forced to arrive at the conclusion it reached, plain and simple.
And regarding the second question, apparently you did not understand what the rabbi was trying to prove. He was not trying to prove that “this is the tradition”; he was only trying to prove that among the “great sages of the generation” we find that they are not committed to tradition even when it contradicts reason.
P.S.
In any event, I’d be happy if you would bring sources showing that there is an absolute commitment to tradition and to the greats even in matters of aggadah. It seems to me you will not find many of those. Quite the opposite.
See also Beit Yishai, siman 15, which goes to great lengths to prove not as you say…
Indeed, that is what it seems to imply. But in every such case one must examine the reliability of the tradition against the force of my own reasoning, as I wrote in the opening.
There is no end to it. You can certainly make use of others who will tell you whether you are competent. But after you decide that you have reached that point—this is the policy you should conduct yourself by.
With your permission, a description of the life of Rabbi Eleazar of Worms: he suffered greatly in the persecutions, after which he moved from Mainz to Worms, where he became rabbi.
While he was engaged—as he himself describes it somewhat ironically—with the verse “And Jacob dwelt securely,” two murderers burst into his home, severely wounded him and his son, and murdered his wife Dulza, his eldest daughter Bellet, age 13, and his younger daughter Hannah, age six. In his memoirs Rabbi Eleazar describes how they killed his family before his eyes:
…And my elder daughter Bellet—they split open her head, and my daughter Hannah—they split open her head and they died… And immediately my pious wife arose and went out… and cried out that they were killing us. And the abominable ones came out and struck her on the head down to the throat and on the shoulder, and from the shoulder to the belt and across the whole width of the back and in the face, and the righteous woman fell dead. And I closed the door and we cried out until help came to us from Heaven.
“I was left with nothing, in great poverty and great suffering,” he testified about himself.
His main book is Sefer Rokeach, fundamentally a halakhic work that includes legal rulings and customs and their reasons according to the tradition of the Tosafists. This book contains dialectical analyses together with concise halakhic conclusions, and it also includes ethical passages and many gematriot.
Meir Renanim answered well. Beyond that, as I wrote here, in my view too the words of sages carry weight. It’s just that they do not have authority, and they are not decisive. One can certainly bring support from a source.
I certainly do treat their words with respect, and I do not disagree with the Rishonim except where it is clear to me that they are mistaken. Beyond that, someone’s being righteous is no guarantee that he is right.
What would Rabbi Abraham answer regarding places where it is explicit that the sages of the Talmud opposed correct things said by wicked people, so that the people would not be led astray after them in other matters as well?
I assume one could explain that this was a temporary enactment for a place where there was such a concern. But the policy of the sages of the Talmud in these areas does not suit us in other respects either (they kept a lot of cards close to the chest, such as “the law is so, but we do not instruct accordingly,” and more).
Regarding note 10 about Tosafot’s assumption that in the end the sages were right—and at the end of the note the rabbi wrote that today we know they were not right.
The holy Or HaChaim writes (I don’t remember the source exactly) that in all their words the sages were aiming at hidden mysteries, and when they spoke with gentiles they sort of backed down before their knowledge because the gentiles cannot understand mysteries. The backing down is intellectual integrity on the plain level, and Tosafot’s assertion stands on the hidden level.
I am not at all sure that this is what Tosafot meant, but once I saw responsa with many great rabbis of the generation regarding sugyot in Shas that speak about medicines or aggadot, and all the answers went in this direction. And the kabbalists like this reasoning.
If not, what reason would the editors of the Talmud have had to include irrelevant, unreliable information that the sages do not understand?
I also saw a dispute among the kabbalists: some said that the reasons given in the Gemara are not the real reasons and there are other, truer reasons that Hazal concealed (brought in the name of the Vilna Gaon), and some said that the reasons written in the Gemara are the only true ones, and if they contain secrets then one must scrutinize their words carefully.
What does the rabbi say about the kabbalists’ attitude (presented above) to the words of Hazal?
This whole business of esotericism does not sound plausible to me. And even if they did mean hidden secrets—then that is their problem. We have only what our eyes can see.
You wrote:
“… Second, there is a value-based obligation to formulate positions autonomously (though this is mainly true regarding norms and less so regarding facts).”
Could you expand on this value-based obligation? Where does it come from? Does it have mentions in the Talmud? Have you written about this? etc.
It could be that there is really nothing new at all in your method and you are just making a story out of it…
Because in practice, in a place where it seems that a certain Rishon is very strained in the sugya, one does not rely on him, or else changes his meaning entirely through wording.
And the whole difference is in the respect shown them: since they are generally respected, people say, “That is his opinion; I do not understand it, and therefore do not rely on him but on others”—but they do not say, “He was mistaken,” and that is because, out of respect for them, in the general conception their words inherently deserve a place in Torah, just that one should not rely on it for halakhah (and even if we assume they erred, still their words have a place in Torah—“his Torah”).
Is there any practical innovation in your words, or only in the style of relating to them? (Aside from matters of thought.)
See my article “Authority and Autonomy in Halakhic Rulings.”
https://mikyab.net/%D7%9B%D7%AA%D7%91%D7%99%D7%9D/%D7%9E%D7%90%D7%9E%D7%A8%D7%99%D7%9D/%D7%90%D7%95%D7%98%D7%95%D7%A0%D7%95%D7%9E%D7%99%D7%94-%D7%95%D7%A1%D7%9E%D7%9B%D7%95%D7%AA-%D7%91%D7%A4%D7%A1%D7%99%D7%A7%D7%AA-%D7%94%D7%9C%D7%9B%D7%94
You can also look at the article “Is Halakhah Pluralistic?” (mainly at the end regarding lifnei iver in the Ritva):
https://mikyab.net/%D7%9B%D7%AA%D7%91%D7%99%D7%9D/%D7%9E%D7%90%D7%9E%D7%A8%D7%99%D7%9D/%D7%94%D7%90%D7%9D-%D7%94%D7%94%D7%9C%D7%9B%D7%94-%D7%94%D7%99%D7%90-%D7%A4%D7%9C%D7%95%D7%A8%D7%9C%D7%99%D7%A1%D7%98%D7%99%D7%AA
With God’s help, Lag BaOmer 5780
On the occasion of the hillula of Rabbi Shimon [bar Yochai], it was nice to see the words of Rabbi Shimon [Shkop] about the vital importance of the student’s attitude of admiration toward his teacher, which is what leads him to scrutinize with all his strength in order to understand the depth of his teacher’s reasoning.
“Personal autonomy” as a slogan may become a barrier that prevents its adherent from even trying to understand an opinion that contradicts what seems right to him at first glance. Such a person will always remain stuck with what he already has, and will never open himself to understanding another view. After all, one must take into account that great sages who held a given reasoning examined it with seventy-seven examinations and inquiries, and one cannot dismiss their reasoning with a “bundle of straw” in the name of sacred “autonomy.” 🙂
The constant labor to understand the words of the Rishonim is what enables a person to see in the subject of his inquiry facets and sub-facets that express the depth and complexity of the matter. Therefore, precisely one who comes with a strong desire to understand what has been transmitted from the early sages is the one likely to produce true novelties. It was not for nothing that Rabbi Eliezer, who “never said anything he had not heard from his teachers,” was the very one who expounded “things no ear had ever heard”—new insights that only he, by delving deeply into the words of his teachers, succeeded in developing.
A fine example of this innovative fidelity is Rabbi Shimon Shkop’s method of study, which, out of faithful analysis of the words of the Gemara and the Rishonim, arrived at a definition of the depth of reasoning that had been latent in the words of the earlier sages.
With blessing, Shatz
With God’s help, 18 Iyar 5780
A person’s thought enables him to fit the sea of data in his possession into a framework of rules, and on the basis of these rules to infer “the hidden from the explicit.” A person can discover the laws of nature according to which the “machine” we live inside functions.
However, knowing the operating rules of the “machine” is not enough to teach us who the “manufacturer” is. What does he want? For what purpose and end did he produce the “machine”? And when and how does he intervene in the operation of the “machine”? Here one needs revelation from the “manufacturer of the machine,” or from the “technicians” instructed by him and given explanations about the purposes of the “machine” and the ways the “manufacturer” intervenes in its operation.
Regarding these foundational questions, the “autonomy” of the observer from the side will not help, and he must resort to “authority and tradition” that derive from the careful study of the “manufacturer’s instructions.” 🙂
With blessing, Shatz
Hello Rabbi.
1. I would be glad to know why you did not mention Maimonides’ well-known statement in the introduction to Eight Chapters, “Accept the truth from whoever says it”? (Perhaps because it is well known?)
In that same place he explains why he did not mention the names of those who said the things:
“And although I do not mention ‘so-and-so said, so-and-so said,’ because that is an unnecessary lengthening with no benefit, and it is possible that mentioning that person’s name would lead someone who has no palate to think that the statement is defective and inwardly bad, because he does not understand it; and for this reason I saw fit not to mention the speaker, for my intention is to benefit the reader and explain to him the hidden matters in this tractate.”
It seems that Maimonides chooses a different tactic for overcoming the “ad hominem” tendency…
2. In your opinion, is “raising the sparks” in Kabbalah similar to the philosophical principle of “accept the truth from whoever says it”?
(If I am not mistaken, Rav Kook expands the kabbalistic principle also into a path for clarifying truths.)
1. I didn’t remember it. Bringing joy to a person is very joyful. 🙂
It needs examination how this fits with the obligation to say something in the name of the one who said it. Perhaps it is not an obligation, but merely that redemption comes through it, and at times it is overridden by necessity (to overcome ad hominem).
2. There is an identical component here, but I don’t think it is exactly the same thing. Raising sparks is an obligation to engage with things that seem incorrect in order to extract sparks from them, not the obligation to accept the truth from whoever says it.
[1. And with this I have proven, regarding perfect mutual love, that it apparently does not exist. Let Reuven and Shimona be two inseparable friends, embraced in heart and soul, and let Reuven be happy to the measure of 2 units. Now how much joy does Shimona have in Reuven’s joy? If it is 2 units or more, and Reuven is again happy at this new joy to the measure of 2 units or more, it follows that one can produce infinite joy from any episode containing a miserable epsilon of joy. If so, for such lovers it would be enough for one of them to receive a kav of carobs and both would dwell in eternal bliss. Rather, it must be that the joy gradually decays (for example, a geometric series with a constant less than 1), and therefore the joy series converges. Therefore, for any two people who come before us, their love certainly is never perfectly mutual. And even if there is an upper bound to felt joy, there would still be here a phenomenon never observed—that the two of them rejoice to the maximal extent from every small coin thrown to one of them. And according to this, whenever one loves his fellow as himself or more than himself, he should know that his fellow loves him less than himself.]
It seems to me that the obligation to say something in the name of the one who said it applies where everyone agrees about the wisdom of the statement and is impressed by its originator.
Therefore, one who heard a wise saying from someone and says it in his own name, instead of attributing the honor to the person from whom he heard it, acts wrongly; but one who attributes it to its author brings redemption.
It is not worthwhile to say something in the name of the one who said it when the matter requires clarification and people might reject or accept it too quickly without any examination just because they recognize the speaker.
With God’s help, Lag BaOmer 5780
To Reuven—greetings,
Saying something in the name of the one who said it is not only a moral matter—not taking the “credit” from the speaker—but also a first-rate aid in understanding the matter and clarifying it.
When one can check things from a “first-hand source,” their reasons and rationales, which are often unclear in a “second-hand” quotation, frequently become clarified. And sometimes, by understanding the foundations and background for the statement in the primary source, one understands that it cannot be compared to other cases.
In other words: when matters require clarification—all the more so one must indicate their source in order to enable their clarification.
With blessing, Shatz
Shatz, you latched onto the example I gave.
The principle is clear.
When saying it in the speaker’s name is detrimental, one should not say it in the speaker’s name; and when it is beneficial, one should say it in the speaker’s name.
And let each case be judged according to its circumstances.
Excellent. I will only add the words of R. Chaim Ozer, who speaks about “before the blind of before the blind.” Reuven causes Shimon to stumble into a transgression. Shimon commits a transgression and by doing so causes Reuven to violate lifnei iver, and also commits the transgression itself. Shimon violates lifnei iver twice, because he causes Reuven to sin and also causes lifnei iver with respect to himself. And so on.
With God’s help, 19 Iyar 5780
To Reuven—greetings,
According to your approach, in the “Ways of Acquiring Torah” they should not have defined “one who says something in the name of the one who said it,” but rather: “one who applies utilitarian judgment as to when to say something in the name of the one who said it and when not to.” 🙂
Since the tanna, among the acquisitions of Torah, singled out “one who says something in the name of the one who said it,” it implies that this is the rule, and even if sometimes one must deviate from it for great need—the rule is that one should indeed say something in the name of the one who said it.
And I explained the reasons for the rule: a. to give the speaker his credit. b. to give the listener the option of checking the matter from a “first-hand source.”
With blessing, Shatz
By the way, in the example the baraita brings from Esther, who told the king in Mordechai’s name, reason (a) was not so compelling, since Mordechai wanted Esther to conceal her Jewish origin, and conveying the information in Mordechai’s name might have aroused suspicion in that direction.
It seems that even though from a utilitarian standpoint it would have been preferable in that case not to reveal that she had ties to Mordechai the Jew, Esther nevertheless conveyed the words in the name of the one who said them for the second reason—the need to allow the listener to verify the matter from a first-hand source. This is the basic duty of fairness toward the accused, enabling him to defend himself and explain.
Esther’s insistence on fairness toward the accused, by giving him the opportunity to respond and defend himself, made her the only figure in the Megillah who gives the accused the “right to be heard.” Ahasuerus gave no “right to be heard” either to Vashti or to the people of Israel; Haman was prepared to decide the fate of the people of Israel and of Mordechai “behind their backs.” Esther alone confronted Haman with her claims in his presence, in such a way that his right to respond would be preserved.
In paragraph 5, line 3
…to clarify the matter…
There, line 4
…that would enable them to defend themselves…
[Another biblical figure who took care to give “credit” to the proper party was Leah, who called her son “Issachar,” saying, “for I have surely hired you with my son’s mandrakes,” thus giving the “credit” for Issachar’s birth to Reuven, who found the mandrakes through which Issachar was born.
With blessing, Shatzu
To dear Shatz,
Your objection is no objection at all.
Your proof from Esther, if anything, points in the opposite direction (and consequently, of course, the whole Purim vort collapses).
I assume you yourself are aware of this and merely want a bit of conversation..
If I am mistaken, correct me, and I will be happy to respond and explain to you in what way your objection is baseless and why your proof points the other way.
With God’s help, 19 Iyar 5780
To Reuven—greetings,
In the first two paragraphs I showed from the baraita in “Ways of Acquiring Torah” that the need to say something in the name of the one who said it is an important rule in Torah, and it is not reasonable, as you suggest, to subordinate it to utilitarian considerations.
In the third paragraph I suggested two value-based reasons for the need to say something in the name of the one who said it: a. to give the speaker his due honor. b. to give the listener the possibility of clarifying the matter from a “first-hand source.”
In the “P.S.” I illustrated from Esther the practical difference between the two reasons, since from the standpoint of honoring the source, perhaps Mordechai would have preferred that Esther not reveal to the king that she had ties to a Jew, but from the standpoint of the obligation to enable the listener to clarify the matter from a “first-hand source,” Esther was obligated to reveal the source.
And “at the end of the day,” it turned out that precisely her insistence on preserving the value-based principle of “the duty of proper disclosure,” even when it seemed contrary to the “utilitarian consideration,” is what brought the great benefit.
With blessing, Shatz
The “utilitarian” consideration I brought at the beginning is exactly your first consideration; I thought you had noticed that. As for the second consideration you brought, I also replied that it too is valid, and the central point is to produce the greatest benefit. There is much logic in including that in the baraita of the acquisitions of Torah. I do not know why you call them “utilitarian considerations”; in any case we need not quarrel over semantics.
As for the proof, you assume that Mordechai feared that because he was the one who revealed the secret matter to Esther, this would lead to suspicion of an identity connection between them.
And in any case, even according to your approach, your proof falls.
For just as Esther preferred the value of clarifying from the source over the concern involved in revealing the Jewish connection, so too she preferred the value of giving credit over that concern.
Moreover, it may be that Esther wanted to bring Mordechai close to the kingship so that he would not need her connections every time (and so people would not suspect him every time).
And so it is obvious that intuition suggests that here the aspect of credit is primary, for clearly the main thing given by the king to the informer about Bigthan and Teresh would be honor, and Esther waived that for herself.
In any case, this whole secondary discussion about the proof from Esther and the like collapses, because it seems to me that my intention in explaining the baraita was the same as yours.
I was unable to understand what you thought you understood in my words.
Nicely put, and the intuitive resistance to such ideas I call “dissonance within resonance.” Although here one could say that Reuven is permitted to cause Shimon retroactively to violate lifnei iver (and therefore Shimon violates only one lifnei iver, while Reuven violates the transgression separately), just as a woman may (perhaps) be permitted to drink wine and thereby retroactively violate adultery, as discussed in one of the previous columns, and it is not like “before the blind of before the blind,” which is in the future. There is also room to discuss it from the perspective that one prohibition does not take effect on top of another. Too bad there are no lashes for this prohibition, because then there would be practical ramifications to analyze 🙂 .
But in any case it still needs clarification how one fulfills the commandment of confession for an infinite number of sins, until his lips wear out from saying “I have sinned” regarding lifnei iver. And if one can include several sins in one sentence, then every penitent could say in one go: “For all the sins I have committed, behold I confess.” Rather, one has to encompass the sins in thought at the time of confession, and then he can confess them, and such an infinite chain counts as being encompassed in his thought. For otherwise, how does one confess for neglecting a positive commandment at every moment—for example, an uncircumcised man who did not circumcise himself—and it is impossible for him to specify all the moments in any way (for that is infinite, and not even countable).
It seems I have joked enough.
What is knowledge?
I could not understand what the connection is between the question that was asked and the column that followed it.
It is obvious that if I enter a discussion of a matter and they presented me with an argument, and I presented an argument, and the presenter’s answer does not fit with the outcome, and I claimed as much—and I am neither delusional nor stupid—then my conclusion is binding, and the matter is defined as an error in an explicit mishnah, and therefore the authority of the expert, however great he may be, is irrelevant.
The whole set of examples you brought dealt with an error in an explicit mishnah; that is, there was some hidden variable or variables in the equation, and therefore the partial result of the equation is irrelevant, even if the solver is the number-one physicist.
And this is why Rabbi Abraham said, “To accept something only because someone else said it is logically forbidden (by the way of reason),” and to that you added, “which is quite obvious, but Rabbi Abraham innovates that it is forbidden also by the way of Torah.” That is certainly true: “forbidden” is called an error in an explicit mishnah! I don’t know why this seems such a novelty to you?!
So what was the question?
The question was this: when there is room for two options, one more plausible and the other less plausible (according to what appears to my eyes, of course), and I do not necessarily reject the less plausible option, only that it seems less plausible, but that says nothing about the truth (probability does not entail truth)—here there is definitely room for tradition. As with the high priest’s frontplate: even though he testified that he saw it with his own eyes, so long as his testimony does not necessarily contradict the tradition, and there is room to say that what he saw was an exceptional, after-the-fact case, but since the tradition says otherwise, the conclusion is that even if it is less probable, apparently there was usually a different frontplate and what he saw with his own eyes was the exception.
Circumstantial ad hominem.
Only a few days ago the honored rabbi reached the conclusion that God’s knowledge of the future entails necessity, with the conclusion that He does not know the future because that contradicts free choice, even though tradition presented an option that had not been excluded, namely the third option that does allow the contradiction to stand, and afterward the rabbi retracted his conclusion (regarding one of the proofs that His knowledge does contradict). This is one example in which, where the plausible option does not necessarily contradict an accepted tradition, it is preferable to prefer the tradition over my own probability judgment, which is not necessary but only plausible.
Why circumstantial?
If the moment I accept tradition as a weight for decision where there are two probabilistic options, almost my entire existence comes crashing down, because I am Mr. Logician, then there is definitely reasonable room to suspect that even the tendency to accept the more plausible consideration over tradition (even though the relation to tradition is indeed formal) is due to circumstantial interest and not because it is necessarily more plausible. Can the rabbi ignore this causality? Does the rabbi deny that this is an influential factor in the judgment of flesh-and-blood humans and not of angels?
[I can bring a number of examples in which the rabbi used ad hominem arguments, though not circumstantial ones, and of course quite a few circumstantial ad hominem arguments. Incidentally, I don’t see a problem with this, because there is room for psychology and not only for logic; with all due respect to the important weight of logic, a person is certainly not a computer, and he has tendencies to see as plausible what accords with his worldview.]
To sum up, my conclusion from the Gemara cited is that so long as you do not have a ruling tantamount to an error in an explicit mishnah (as in the example of whether the world is round or flat), you should follow tradition, as in the case of the frontplate, even though it was more plausible that the frontplate he saw was probably the one that existed.
Of course, if we know the cause of the tradition and its secret lies in an error in an explicit mishnah, then certainly one should reject even the continuation of the error though it has become enshrined as tradition, aside from the formal authority the rabbi mentioned, where truth indeed does not necessarily bind, but rather the accepted ruling.
We received the weight of tradition as deciding between probabilities as a formal decision procedure.!
…And I see the Written Torah and the Oral Torah as a source of inspiration and not a source of authority.
And by the way, I do not believe in providence at all.
Therefore I study Gemara on Shabbat at the beach (really!).
In the sense of—“the sea of the Talmud.”
Amen, Selah.
With God’s help, 19 Iyar 5780
Besides the ethical aspect of saying something in the name of the one who said it—giving honor to the speaker and giving the listener the possibility of examining the words at their source—the juxtaposition to “directs his learning” also points to an educational value in being careful to say something in the name of the one who said it.
If the one who “directs his learning” gains educationally because he is careful to be precise about the content of his words, then one who is careful to say something in the name of the one who said it arrives at discussion with precision in clarifying “who said what.”
The importance of knowing “who said” each teaching makes it possible to receive a complete picture of each sage’s method, from the understanding that what he says in one place complements what he says in another place.
With blessing, Shatz
This ability to understand the general principle within the sea of details that seem unrelated also has value in bringing the world to redemption. For when one understands the overall direction toward which the world is supposed to arrive, the road is paved to lead the world in the right direction.
The fact that they were careful to record in the book of records that it was Mordechai who conveyed the information that saved the king from the attempt on his life is what brought Ahasuerus to the realization that Mordechai was the only man in the entire court who had proved his loyalty to the king without reservation.
Paragraph 1, line 2
…the juxtaposition to “directs…”
Paragraph 2, line 2
.. arrives at precision in clarifying…
Paragraph 4, line 4
…to lead the world forward…
??
“If only they had forsaken Me and kept My Torah” in its plain sense. Though that is not really the meaning, since without the Holy One, blessed be He, the Torah too is not Torah.
I can’t make sense of this whole message. It is a collection of contradictions and misunderstandings from beginning to end.
1. Everything you wrote is really not clear, at least to you (to me it certainly is, and that is what I wanted to demonstrate in this column). Even if I have a clear position against an expert or a tradition, maybe I am mistaken that it does not make logical sense? Would I reject the view of a sage or expert merely on the strength of my own reasoning? You yourself have raised that claim against me more than once.
2. Drop the equations from here (what does that have to do with anything?), and drop “error in an explicit mishnah.” None of these examples dealt with an error in an explicit mishnah, and even if they did—my previous claim would apply here as well. In all the examples in the Gemara in Pesachim we are not talking about a mishnah but about arguments and proofs by way of reason. And one can always say that the springs are hot at night because God performed a miracle. Would you reject the tradition of our sages merely on the basis of your own reasoning?
3. As for the question of what to do when there are two options, I wrote that the expert’s opinion carries weight, only it is not decisive (therefore ad hominem is not entirely a fallacy)..
4. The fact that I retracted proves nothing. It only proves that I am not necessarily right. Does that even need to be stated? You are contradicting your own words. On the one hand you say that if there is a contradiction to logic then obviously it is forbidden to accept the sage’s view (while ignoring the possibility that maybe I am mistaken that there is a contradiction to logic), and now you bring an example where we found a contradiction to logic and therefore I retracted. Beyond that, the fact that I retracted nicely illustrates my claim: one should follow logic and not tradition or the opinion of sages. When I was convinced, I retracted. That is exactly what the sages of Israel did in the sugya in Pesachim. Did I ever claim anywhere that I am certain I do not err? I have written more than once that every person can err about anything and there is no certainty about anything.
5. I did not understand what circumstantial ad hominem is and what some other ad hominem is, or how this is connected to the discussion at all.
Only please, do not continue at such length. It is very hard to conduct a discussion on all this in parallel.
Indeed, the sages took logic into account in their statements, and only that, so long as there was no reason not to follow it.
Therefore in Pesachim, and in the other places where there was a substantive discussion about logic and plausibility, the only consideration is what is more plausible and not who said it (if he is not necessarily an expert in the subject of the discussion, and I am not an expert).
My distinction is this: in a place where there are two options, one more plausible and the other less so, but the less plausible one has a tradition behind it—regarding the idea that the springs are hot at night, so long as there was no good reason to assume that the sun does not pass beneath the earth, and it was only a bare conjecture, one should certainly take what is more plausible (and it makes no difference whether God heats it or not, because either way He acts according to regular lawfulness).
You retracted, and that is certainly praiseworthy. I only wanted to show that you had the option of tradition, and it had not been ruled out by reasoning, only that in your opinion it was less plausible. Here I wanted to say that there is a reasonable possibility that you give weight to what seems more plausible to you on an irrelevant basis, because there is no doubt that if you were forced to see tradition as a decisive factor between possible sides, it would pull almost the entire foundation of your existence out from under you—namely logic (and other tests visible to the eyes).
Thank you in advance, Tam.
Tam,
It seems to me that Rabbi Michi meant that always, within the whole question of “what is most plausible,” he also factors in “tradition” (and sometimes perhaps it is precisely within the side that tips the scale against the tradition..), and then decides.
It is not that he ignores tradition.
What you want is that whenever there is even one or two percent on the other side, tradition should decide. On that the rabbi disagrees; tradition is not decisive with respect to every doubt.
If we summarize, the dispute between you is whether tradition decides every doubt, even the slightest one, or whether “tradition” is simply one more consideration within the total set of considerations.
My longtime friend R.Z.
That is not my position; that is explicit in the cited Gemara regarding the frontplate, that even though the side of tradition is weak, so long as it is possible, it is decisive.
And my claim is that with regard to this there is indeed a binding formality.
(It makes no sense to take tradition as part of the consideration, because tradition is a matter of decision procedure and not an additional side within the body of the argument.)
To dear Tam,
Were the initials meant to save the screen some ink?
In any case, I prefer “the gaon Rabbi R. Zilberstein,” and in pressing circumstances—“the g.r.z.”
Your proof from the frontplate is not correct in my opinion, because there it is a halakhic dispute. One cannot bring proof from the form of decision in a halakhic discussion to a theological/philosophical discussion.
(I did not understand the parenthetical remark; I did not understand what you meant.)
Pillar of truth, mighty genius, my teacher and rabbi in reading comprehension, dear Rabbi Reuven Zilberstein—may you live for long good days and years, amen. The initials were meant to show my affection for you.
And therefore, “the g.r.z.,” because now this is indeed a pressing circumstance. Within three days of the hillula of Rabbi Shimon, I will rely on him.
The halakhic dispute from the frontplate was not about the frontplate itself; rather they were trying to learn from the size of the frontplate how large it was, and on that basis decide a halakhah touching impurity. Therefore any conclusion they would reach would have formal halakhic force.
As for the parenthetical remark, I said that one should not take decision rules as part of the consideration among the possible sides of decision; that is simply incorrect. For example, if I am uncertain between a probability of about 10% and a probability of about 70%, what sense does it make to take the deciding factor as itself a consideration (if you accept it as a deciding factor)? The deciding factor comes after the probabilities, and it is what decides.
Corrections from an unsuccessful keyboard.
May he live for long good days.
I did not understand your definition of the concept of knowledge.
What is it?
And what is the way to arrive at knowledge?
Because it seems that in the end your words are identical to those of Maimonides.
I didn’t understand the question. You don’t know what knowledge is? What is this even about here? If you do not elaborate, I will not be able to answer.
As Rabbi Michi wrote, the sources were brought here in a “according to your own view” sense, but this is a project with a small chance of success. For one who leans on the sources as a first principle, and is also well versed in them, will in practice be able to argue that the sources supporting Rabbi Michi’s position are actually a minority view. My general impression is that most sources in the Jewish corpus throughout the generations actually instruct us to accept the words of our rabbis without any questioning at all—the opposite of the views brought here in the post. At least, for the most part I encounter such sources in abundance, whereas the views brought here in the post (R. Shimon Shkop, Magen Avraham, Rabbi Abraham son of Maimonides, and the like) are views I encounter relatively rarely. Therefore it will be very hard to persuade someone whose opinion needs a seal of approval from the sources, because most of the sources themselves do not support autonomous thinking (again, I did not conduct a count of every source one by one, but that is my general impression from what I have been exposed to). Even if we try to persuade such a person by way of “according to your own view,” for every source supporting autonomous thinking he can bring at least two opposing sources. A well-known counterexample is the view of the Hazon Ish, who was very emphatic on this subject, as he wrote in his letters in several places:
“The method of making the Torah into different parts: instruction in ritual law—part one, and instruction in the marketplace of life—part two, so as to be submissive to the instruction of the sages of the generation in the first part and leave freedom of choice in the second part, is the old method of the sectarians, in the decline of the Jews in Ashkenaz, who led the people of Israel astray until they assimilated among the gentiles and none remained for survival… It is among the roots of faith that all that is said in the Mishnah and Gemara, whether in halakhah or in aggadah, are precisely the things revealed to us by means of a prophetic power, which is the kissing of the emanated intellect with the intellect compounded in the body… We recoil from hearing any casting of doubt on the words of Hazal, whether in halakhah or in aggadah, as though hearing blasphemy, God forbid, and one inclined in this way is according to our tradition like a denier of the words of Hazal, and his slaughter is carrion, and he is disqualified as a witness.”
One can also bring R. Isaac Aboab, author of Menorat HaMaor (section 34), who says one must accept all the words of Hazal without exception and attribute the deficiency to ourselves, and the Ben Ish Hai (Ben Yehoyada, Bava Batra 84a), who says one must accept their words even concerning natural science and astronomy, and many others—but Kaf HaChaim is worth quoting because he addresses this point directly (Yoreh De’ah 119:40):
“From here there is clear proof regarding some members of our people in the cities of Europe who say explicitly that they do not believe in the words of our sages of blessed memory except in matters that seem reasonable to them. Hence they are like gentiles in all respects. They are not to be believed at all בעניני איסור והיתר. They do not join a quorum of ten, and one does not recite zimun with them.”
It troubles me to know that there are views in Judaism that would not count Rabbi Michi for a minyan or for zimun, and would even regard him as a gentile in all respects. Indeed extreme, but those are their words, and it is a pity that things reached this point—and not only concerning them, but it is a pity for Judaism that it reached this point. For in practice, the Hazon Ish, Kaf HaChaim, the Ben Ish Hai, and the like are the “shapers of public opinion” of Judaism (especially Haredi and Sephardi Judaism) more than Rabbi Michi is. Bottom line: even if someone wants to decide on the basis of sources, in the end he will decide against autonomous thinking…
I’m not at all sure this is so bad. It may be that it is preferable for the broader public to be led by that method. I do not presume to speak to the broader public. I speak to whoever wants to hear and needs what I have to say.
Michi, you are open-minded and daring, and you captivate your readers with the intensity of your writing and your “the opposite seems more plausible” insights.
You improved for me and for many others the days of the coronavirus with your sayings that challenge the accepted and undermine authority—with no fear and no favoritism.
So why is Torah without the Holy One, blessed be He, not Torah?
And what would you say to a heretical Litvak like me, who cannot manage to believe in revelation? The Torah is a human creation—there, I said it.
I have nothing to say except that I disagree. On both counts: 1. In my opinion there is a Holy One, blessed be He, and there is revelation (I explained this in the first book of the trilogy and in the notebooks). 2. In my opinion, without Him there is no meaning to Torah study: “Rather, his delight is in the Torah of the Lord, and in His Torah he meditates day and night”—it is “his own Torah” only if it is the Torah of the Lord.
Savior, is it not said: “A transgression for the sake of Heaven is greater than a commandment not for its own sake,” and it is said: “In all your ways know Him,” and our sages expounded: “even with regard to a sinful matter.” And if your intention is for the sake of Heaven, there is even reason to say that you are doing a great commandment, and you have a great eagle to hang upon, in his words in Eight Chapters: “He should place before his eyes one end only, namely: the apprehension of God, may He be exalted… and all his actions, his movements and his rests, and all the utterances of his mouth should bring him to this end… The same applies to one overcome by black bile, who gets up and removes it by listening to melodies and various kinds of song, and by strolling in gardens and among fine buildings, and by sitting with beautiful forms and similar things that broaden the soul and remove his dark thoughts from it.” And what are “beautiful forms”? Quite literally, these are the daughters of Israel at the seashore. For Maimonides wrote in Hilkhot Teshuvah, halakhah 8: “…he eats and drinks good foods and has relations with beautiful forms and wears garments of fine linen and embroidery…” More power to you!!
What is your definition of the concept of knowledge?
You need to define things before discussing the problem.
I am simply asking:
What is your definition of the concept?
Each person understands every matter differently.
Therefore it is important to define, although not strictly necessary.
It simply helps so there will be no mistakes.
In my opinion you have an error.
Because you brought Maimonides’ answer and claimed it is mistaken,
and you yourself arrived at the same answer.
Therefore I ask how you define the concept of knowledge.
Thank you, Moshe
I have no idea what you want. If you propose a definition, I can say whether I agree with it. If you want, say where you think we define it differently. It is impossible to answer a vague question like this.
And before you define what knowledge is, please define what a definition is, and define the meaning of the word “what is,” and so on. You do understand that this is ridiculous?
Very simple.
Explain to me how you arrive at any piece of knowledge.
Do you perform some action in order to arrive at knowledge, or do you simply know things without performing any action?
In my opinion you simply know things by yourself without doing anything—simply
know.
I, by contrast, have to contemplate, think, try, and then I reach a clear conclusion, and that is what I call knowledge.
Of course, with this type of knowledge there is always doubt.
Therefore I am a simple person, not educated and not a rabbi.
I barely finished high school; I tried to study at university and did not succeed.
Thank you
Moshe
Who will give me simple faith?
Please send a link to the trilogy and the notebook—perhaps this is my last opportunity rolling to my doorstep by merit of a graduate of Midrashiyah, cohort x
There are two kinds of knowledge:
Self-evident knowledge without the need for prior investigation,
and knowledge that comes through reflection.
With God’s help, Jerusalem Day 5780
The idea of Rabbi Shimon Shkop, that the student’s admiration for his teacher leads him to strive to understand the depth of his teacher’s words, was also expressed in the words of Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin on the mishnah in Avot, “and dust yourself in the dust of their feet,” where “dust yourself” is understood in the sense of “wrestling,” meaning that the student must argue with his teacher and not accept his words without criticism. But this wrestling must be “in the dust of his feet,” out of recognition of the teacher’s immense greatness—a recognition that leads the student to make a great effort to plumb the full depth of his teacher’s understanding.
With blessing, Shatz.
One can find it on the site, lofty Litvak that you are…
I see one broad character trait shared by the site's chairman here and by R. Shimon. Both are analysts of the synthetic. They enter the intuitionist fog and impose within it (not in place of it) the defining, examining analytic mode. It is evident (to me) in both of them that “the heart is in the right place” (the analytic place), except that one cannot avoid the synthetic necessity. And with the help of that placement of the heart, they present the synthetic view in a precise way (from diyyek, to build a wall around, distinguishing exactly between inside and outside), and then they also wave the analytic wand and examine the implications and contexts of such a view. Perhaps this observation has already appeared here on the site, and perhaps one day I will write an article about it with a few juicy examples.