Representation and Nonverbal Thinking: 2. Linguistic Representation (Column 380)
In the previous column I described two stages of representation through which the Torah passes from its abstract state into our world: a conceptual representation—addressed in the previous column—which itself undergoes a linguistic representation, namely a concrete formulation, which I will discuss here.
Linguistic Representation
In the previous column I described how the Torah we possess is only a conceptual representation of an abstract Torah, adapting it to the human world. This is the “Torah” that Moses receives and brings down to earth, which contains, among other things, a set of commandments (for simplicity, I focus on the halakhic part). Now each such commandment must be formulated in language and cast into words and sentences. This is the plane of linguistic representation. To illustrate and sharpen the gap between the linguistic representation and the ideas represented by it, I will preface here a discussion about our thinking: is it conducted verbally (linguistic representation) or not (the abstract thinking itself)? Afterwards we will return to discuss the pitfalls that arise from this gap.
The Rashba’s View: Verbal and Abstract Thinking
The Mishnah in Berakhot 15a brings a dispute regarding the recitation of the Shema:
One who recites the Shema but does not make it audible to his ear has fulfilled [his obligation]; Rabbi Yose says: he has not fulfilled [it].
The Gemara there discusses the source of the dispute:
What is Rabbi Yose’s reasoning? Because it is written “Shema”—make your ear hear what your mouth brings forth; and the first Tanna holds: “Shema”—in any language you hear; and Rabbi Yose derives two teachings from “Shema.”
Rabbi Yose learns from the verse “Shema Yisrael” two distinct laws: that one must make it audible to his ear, and that this may be done in any language.
The Rashba there raises a difficulty:
And Rabbi Yose would tell you: incidentally you infer from it “in any language that you hear.” Rashi, of blessed memory, explained: you derive two teachings from it; since you also expound “Shema” as “in any language [one] hears,” you also infer from “hearing” that one must make it audible to his ear. But this is not clear to me: from where do we know that you derive two [teachings] from it? Moreover, that is not what “incidentally” (mimela) means.
He struggles to understand how two different things are learned from the same verse, and how we know that the verse truly teaches both and not just one.
He then explains it as follows:
It seems we should explain as follows: since you expounded from it “in any language that you hear,” you thereby infer incidentally that he must make it audible to his ear. For if not, why would the Torah need to permit any language that he hears? It is obvious, for if he need not make it audible to his ear, then even mere contemplation of the heart would suffice, as is implied later (20b) regarding a baal keri; and in mere contemplation there is no notion of “language.” Thus we incidentally hear that there is no distinction between the holy tongue and other languages. Rather, since the Torah needed to permit any language, we incidentally infer that one must make it audible to his ear.
His claim is that the basic derivation from the verse is the law that Shema may be recited in any language. But if there were no need to make it audible to one’s ears—that is, if mere contemplation sufficed—then there would be no need to teach that Shema may be recited in any language, since contemplation does not involve language at all. From the fact that we required a verse to teach that it may be recited in any language, it follows implicitly that one must make it audible to his ear. Thus two laws emerge from the same verse: they are not independent of each other. One law contains the other as a tacit premise.
The Rashba notes there that even the first Tanna does not necessarily disagree:
And it is possible that Rabbi Yehuda, who does not hold this, maintains that although one need not make it audible to his ear, nevertheless he must articulate with his lips and not with contemplation alone; therefore the Torah needed to permit [recitation] in any language that he hears. So it seems to me.
The first Tanna merely holds that contemplation alone does not suffice; one must move his lips (even if not make it audible to his ear). Therefore, according to him too, one must speak of language.
It would seem that, according to the Rashba, thinking does not take place verbally but abstractly. Language pertains only to our external speech. On this matter we find another sugya that appears to contradict his words.
Tosafot on Verbal and Abstract Thinking
In Shabbat 40b it is stated that “Rebbi” issued a halakhic ruling to his student in the bathhouse. The Gemara asks:
How did he do so? For Rabba bar bar Ḥana said in the name of Rabbi Yoḥanan: it is permitted to contemplate [words of Torah] everywhere except the bathhouse and a latrine. And if you would say he told him in mundane language—Abaye said: mundane matters may be said in the holy tongue; holy matters are forbidden to be said in mundane language. [Answer:] Preventing someone from transgressing is different.
The question is how he could have issued a halakhic ruling, which is Torah discourse, in a bathhouse. The Gemara rejects the possibility that it was in mundane language, for it is forbidden to rule in Torah even in mundane language.
And behold, in Tosafot s.v. “Vechi,” they write:
And if you would say he told him in mundane language—even though it is forbidden to contemplate, one might say that the prohibition to contemplate applies only in the holy tongue, and he contemplated in mundane language.
Tosafot infer from here that the prohibited contemplation is only in the holy tongue. This seems to go head-on against the Rashba’s conclusion above, and indeed the Rishash notes this:
Tosafot s.v. “Vechi”: “that there is no prohibition to contemplate except in the holy tongue”—from here is a proof for the author of Sha’agat Aryeh in responsum 7 regarding his wonder at the Rashba who wrote that in contemplation there is no language.
He notes that the Sha’agat Aryeh (sec. 7) disputes the Rashba and holds that language does pertain to contemplation, bringing our sugya as proof. Yet it would seem that the contradiction to the Rashba is from the Gemara itself, not only from Tosafot. In the Gemara we see that contemplation can be conducted in a language, and that the prohibition of contemplation depends on language—or at least that there is a discussion of which language is implicated. Indeed, from the Rishash’s wording it appears that he brings not only a proof for the Sha’agat Aryeh but also a proof against the Rashba (and he formulates it as a proof for the Sha’agat Aryeh’s challenge to the Rashba).
However, upon a closer look at the sugya, this is decidedly not a necessary conclusion. If we return to the Gemara, the shift there from speech to contemplation is not obvious. The Gemara deals with the prohibition of speaking words of Torah in filthy alleyways, yet the difficulty it raises concerns the prohibition of contemplation. It seems clear that the prohibition of uttering words of Torah in filthy places is rooted in the fact that when one speaks them, one also contemplates them. In other words, the fundamental prohibition is contemplation, not speech.
Why does the Gemara make this shift? Simply because speech, as such, is merely movement of lips and exhalation, with no necessary connection to any content. Therefore, speech as such is not considered Torah. The content resides only in the thought that accompanies the speech, and only on that plane do the words become Torah. The prohibition to speak exists only because speech is accompanied by contemplation (thought).
The conclusion is that merely uttering the words is not Torah, even if those words describe ideas of Torah. This itself is an interesting insight for our purposes. It follows that the prohibition concerns the presence of words of Torah in the bathhouse—but “words of Torah” are not a collection of words; the words are a representation of Torah (linguistic representation: on plane 1). What is forbidden is that the Torah itself be present there, and that occurs only when one thinks the ideas in the bathhouse (which themselves are a conceptual representation of the abstract Torah, but for us, in our world, that representation is precisely what constitutes Torah).
Nonverbal Thinking
We have seen that what matters is what happens in the mind, not the external representations. One can, of course, ask whether it matters how that thinking takes place in the mind. Is there a difference between thinking conducted in the holy tongue and thinking conducted in a mundane language? The Rashba would say it does not matter, because the whole point of the Gemara here is that the prohibition is about the content, not the representation; therefore the words do not matter, but the ideas do—and those exist only in the mind and not in spoken speech. The Rashba would not accept Tosafot’s conclusion that there is a difference between contemplating in different languages.
But then why does the Gemara relate to language at all? Presumably, as long as a person is thinking words of Torah there is a prohibition. It therefore seems that in the Gemara’s initial assumption they thought the prohibition was on speech, and then there arose the possibility that this applies only in the holy tongue and not in a mundane language. When the Gemara rejects this, it does so precisely on the strength of the Rashba’s reasoning: the essence is thought; and in thought, what matters is the content, not the language. Therefore, either there is a prohibition (with sacred matters) and then it is forbidden in every language, holy or mundane; or there is no prohibition (with mundane matters) and again it is permitted in every language, holy or mundane. What matters is the content, not its verbal representation. Thus the Rashba can indeed read the Gemara in a way that accords with his view.
In the bottom line there is a dispute between the Rashba and Tosafot, but the Gemara can be understood according to both. All agree that the verbal representation as such is not Torah. The prohibition concerns thought, meaning that the representation in and of itself has no sanctity. Tosafot, however, maintain that the Gemara’s initial assumption remains in force, i.e., that even in thought there is significance to the language in which it is conducted; whereas the Rashba maintains that this is precisely the Gemara’s conclusion: since we are dealing with thought, language has no significance. The disagreement concerns nonverbal thinking; but according to all, the thinking is decisive, not the representation.
Thus, once again, we see that distinguishing between ideas and their linguistic representation (this time the discussion is about the linguistic representation) resolves the problem. The problem arose from a failure to distinguish between the thing itself and its linguistic representations.
Explaining the Dispute
What exactly do Tosafot and the Rashba disagree about? To understand this we must get to the root of the Rashba’s innovation. In principle, it can be understood in two ways:
- A factual-psychological innovation: Thinking does not, in fact, take place verbally at all. In thought we think ideas, not words. Languages exist only in external speech. Speech is the representation, and thought is the content represented by it. Therefore, in thought what exists is only the content, not language, which belongs to the sphere of representations.
- A halakhic innovation: We do, in fact, have instances of verbal thinking; but as long as we are within the sphere of thought, language has no halakhic significance. Language has meaning on the external, communicative plane—when dealing with interpersonal interaction—but within a person’s inner thought, language is only a tool that represents ideas. When a person thinks some verbal formulation, he is not merely “speaking in his heart,” but thinking the ideas. The sentences and verbal formulations that pass through his heart are only a representation of the ideas; therefore it does not really matter in which language this is done. What matters is that the relevant content is present in his thought.
The Rashba himself could intend either of these two possibilities. Among later authorities there are different explanations of the Rashba’s view: some took him in direction 1, others in direction 2. Thus, for example, the Sha’agat Aryeh there challenges the Rashba:
Moreover, the essence of the Rashba’s words is perplexing. For certainly in contemplation language also pertains—whether one must contemplate specifically in the holy tongue or whether contemplation in any language suffices—and there is no logical reason to distinguish between contemplation and speech in this regard at all. And know that necessarily language pertains to contemplation as well. For it is taught there: Rabbi Yose, in the name of Rabbi Eliezer ben Azariah, said: one who recites the Shema must make it audible to his ear, as it is stated “Shema Yisrael.” Rabbi Meir said to him: behold it says, “which I command you today, upon your heart”—the focus is the intention of the heart; these are the essential matters. Thus, he holds that one need not articulate with his lips; even if he contemplates in his heart he has fulfilled [his obligation]. And so too Ravina infers in Perek “Mi Shemet” (4:20) with regard to monetary cases that contemplation is like speech—from the fact that one contemplates the Shema in his heart. It follows that according to Rabbi Meir and the anonymous Mishnah as understood by Ravina, one need not make [it] audible to his ear, and moreover, contemplation is like speech. If so, necessarily “Shema” comes to include “in any language,” for otherwise it would be superfluous; and if so, the question arises: since he holds that contemplation is like speech, [what does] “Shema—in any language” come to teach? It is obvious—if in contemplation language does not pertain. Rather, certainly language pertains to contemplation as well, contrary to the Rashba’s words, of blessed memory.
It seems he understood the Rashba as saying that language does not pertain to contemplation at all, because thought deals with ideas. But if you read the Rashba again, you will see this is not necessary. He may have meant possibility 2. In Tehillah LeDavid §62:3, he understands the Sha’agat Aryeh according to possibility 1 and resolves his questions in line with possibility 2.
Similarly, the Ḥazon Ish, Orach Ḥayyim §14, resolves the Rashba in the same way:
He explains that the Rashba’s intention is that even if one thinks in a verbal manner, such a thing is not considered “speech” or “language.” This is a halakhic, not a factual, claim.
And in §29:8 it appears he assumes interpretation 1 in the Rashba:
That is, the Rashba’s innovation is factual: we can also think in a nonverbal way (not that this is always so, but that it is possible). And here we must understand that, factually, it is quite clear that we do think verbally; that is at least possible.[1] Perhaps not always is our thinking verbal, but certainly at times it is. Therefore, even according to explanation 1, the intent is not that one always thinks nonverbally, but that nonverbal thought is possible.
These, then, were two ways to understand the Rashba’s innovation. Tosafot, of course, dispute both principles: in their view we certainly think verbally (and apparently this is always the case), and the language in which we think is the very language in which we express those thoughts. That is, according to Tosafot, the thought that accompanies speech is conducted in the same language in which we speak. When one speaks in the holy tongue, one also thinks the matter in that language, and vice versa. The Rashba may perhaps agree to this as well, especially when it is thought accompanying speech—such thought is likely to be conducted in the language in which one speaks. Beyond that, Tosafot also clearly hold that there is significance to the language in which we think. Indeed, according to them, the prohibition of contemplating words of Torah in filthy places depends on the language in which we contemplate.[2] This the Rashba certainly does not accept.
[1] For example, see a detailed discussion in Antonio Damasio’s book, The Error of Descartes.
[2] One may wonder: how do they understand Rabbi Yose’s view in Berakhot (that he derived two innovations from a single verse)? See at the end of responsum 7 in the aforementioned Sha’agat Aryeh, as well as in the Ritva and the Shitah Mekubbetzet on the sugya in Berakhot there.
Discussion
A. Indeed, the two possibilities are either that it is always non-verbal, or that the verbal element does not count.
B. Obviously I am speaking about deliberate thought. My claim is that speech as such is not forbidden, but only because of the (deliberate) thought that accompanies it. Otherwise it is unclear why the Gemara, which is discussing speech, raises an objection from the prohibition of thought.
And is it not reasonable to explain that the Gemara infers by logic from deliberate thought to deliberate speech, and brought thought only because the statement was said about thought? When you wrote the suggestion that in the Gemara’s initial assumption there is a prohibition on speech, I understood that this is what you meant.
What deliberate thought did Rabbi have? If he had not spoken to his student, would he not have been thinking about it at that very moment?
Speech is the practical means of deliberately arousing the thought. Otherwise, the thought that arises should be “cast away.” And it still appears from the Gemara that the prohibition is due to the thought involved in the matter. Even from the language of Tosafot it is quite clear that this is how they understood it (that the entire prohibition of speech is because of the thought involved in it).
The alternative you are suggesting—is that there is a prohibition only on speech? If so, the statement that forbids thought is incorrect. And if you say that either thought or speech is forbidden (even without thought), I will ask you: from where do you know that? After all, the statement forbids thought, and there is no source for a separate prohibition on speech. Therefore clearly we should forbid only thought, and in speech what is forbidden is the thought that accompanies the speech. I do not see how one can derive otherwise.
I am speaking about the Rashba, not Tosafot. If one “casts away” a thought, then one is thinking about the duty to cast it away. Besides, it is not possible to cast it away immediately while the student is standing before him trying to warm the oil. It is like one who immerses while holding a creeping thing in his hand. It is agreed that there is a prohibition on deliberate thought, and the Gemara understands by logic that to the same degree, or perhaps all the more so, there is also a prohibition on speech (which is always deliberate). That is the Gemara’s logic, and I have no difficulty with where the Gemara got such a logic. Thought is forbidden, and even where the thought comes involuntarily, it is forbidden to express it in speech—what is strange about that? (Incidentally, perhaps that is why Rashash comments from Tosafot and not from the Gemara.)
Thinking about the duty to cast it away is not forbidden, because that is the implementation of the halakhah. Just as a person who refrains from wiping the intestine does not violate the prohibition of contemplating Torah in the bathhouse (and indeed one can discuss the Gemara’s question there—what prohibition is there in an instruction whose purpose is preserving the halakhah in the bathhouse? Is it preferable to violate the halakhah?!).
As for your actual suggestion: if the prohibition that the Gemara assumes is against speech without thought, there is no kal va-chomer here at all. On the contrary, the fact that thought is forbidden does not mean that speech is forbidden (unless thought accompanies it). Incidentally, once speech is deliberate, thought necessarily accompanies it, and then Occam’s razor says it is more reasonable to explain the prohibition as applying to the thought, rather than adding a prohibition on speech in its own right.
Regarding the Gemara’s question, one may say that it reasoned: Rabbi should not sin so that the student may benefit. And it answers that Rabbi was content to commit a minor prohibition in order to separate his fellow from a grave prohibition.
I am trying to imagine the situation—Rabbi sees someone about to commit a prohibition, and the Gemara tells him: Don’t think about it! Don’t think about it! That sounds impossible to me.
Incidentally, if everything depends on thought, then what is the meaning of the ruling about the Megillah that a foreigner who heard it in Assyrian/Hebrew has fulfilled his obligation? That is, a foreigner who heard it in his own foreign language fulfills the obligation if he understands the language, whereas in Assyrian/Hebrew he fulfills it even if he does not understand.
My claim was that a foreigner who reads in Assyrian/Hebrew fulfills his obligation because speech expresses the content objectively, even if he himself is not thinking about it. I will address this in the next post.
There is no hint of any of this in the Gemara. No one connected the sugya to the discussion of whether a Torah scholar is content to commit a minor prohibition…
The Gemara says not to think deliberately. If it is impossible, then it is not deliberate.
I mentioned the point about a minor prohibition only in passing, to explain the hava amina that even in order to prevent someone from sinning it is forbidden to think or speak. And now I saw that Rabbi is in fact the very one who holds that one is content with respect to a chaver, etc. This seems to me a plausible explanation, but in any case it is a side issue.
Could it be that the different approaches of the Rashba and Tosafot are also connected to a different conception of the holy tongue as a conventional language or an essential one?
See the next post
Non-verbal thought must be understanding of the content (that is all there is there), but verbal thought or verbal speech can also take place without understanding the content. Therefore, according to the Rashba, for whom there is no language in thought, one must say that one fulfills the obligation through thought only if he understands the content. For if he also does not understand the content and there is also no language, then there is nothing here at all—so how, according to the first Tanna, does one fulfill the obligation through thought? If there is language in thought, then perhaps one who mentally recites the words of the Shema fulfills the obligation even without understanding a word, at least if he thought the words in Hebrew.
The claim that all that matters is the abstract idea, and therefore if you babbled words without thought in the shower, which happened by chance to form the paragraphs of Shema, nothing happened—that is problematic when one looks at the sanctity of a book as a test case. Why exactly does a book have sanctity in itself? After all, the reader can either express the essence of the text or not. According to your idea, there should be no sanctity whatsoever to the text by Torah law when a Hindu who does not understand the meaning of the words reads from it.
A book is a cheftza, and when it has meaning in itself (anyone who sees it and reads Hebrew understands its meaning), it may be possible to view it as possessing sanctity. Words are a product of the speaker, and if he produced them by mere accident, they have no sanctity even though the listener will understand their meaning.
However, the Gemara explains that one must wait the time it takes to walk four cubits when interrupting the prayer in order to enter a lavatory, because during that time the mouth is still mumbling the words of the prayer out of “habit of the tongue.” This implies that even uttering sacred words without intention is forbidden in the bathroom.
With blessings, Yefaor
So why is a Torah scroll written by a heretic—whose entirety is identical to every other Torah scroll—devoid of sanctity? A situation is created in which not only the essence and the ability of the text to raise ideas of holiness in our minds matter, but also the intention of the writer.
The writer’s intention is required, provided that it creates a cheftza. Both elements are present here.
A. The factual innovation you proposed for the Rashba—that every thought is always non-verbal—you eventually wrote that one cannot say. But if the Rashba is only innovating that sometimes thought is non-verbal, then his words are not understandable: how did R. Yosei derive two things from the verse? If it is possible to think verbally, then perhaps one really does need to think the Shema verbally, and the verse comes to teach that this verbalization is permitted in any language that you hear. And one would always fulfill the obligation even by meditation of the heart. Therefore it seems that the only possibility in the Rashba is the halakhic innovation.
B. The Gemara in Shabbat regarding the bathhouse: at first you explain that the Gemara asks how Rabbi allowed himself to contemplate halakhah. But that is a strange question. When a person sees an act, he involuntarily thinks whether it is permitted or forbidden. And if he forces himself not to think because it is forbidden—well, that too is contemplation of halakhah. Therefore it seems one must explain that the Gemara asks how Rabbi allowed himself to speak. And the point is that if deliberate thoughts are forbidden in the bathhouse, then speech is likewise forbidden, and speech is always deliberate. Since they are dealing with speech, the Gemara therefore suggests that he spoke in ordinary language, and answers that speech is always forbidden even in ordinary language. According to this, language is never relevant to thought, and there is no difficulty for the Rashba. But even then, on the contrary, it emerges that the very utterance of the words itself is Torah, and not only what happens in the head is important. And that is not surprising, for even regarding the Megillah, a foreigner who heard it in Assyrian/Hebrew has fulfilled his obligation, meaning that the words themselves also have significance apart from the content. True, you wrote briefly that according to the Rashba the Gemara’s initial assumption asks about speech, and that is like what I wrote here; but if that is the explanation, then the whole sugya has nothing to do with the Rashba’s words in Berakhot regarding thought during the recitation of Shema.