In Honor of Rosh Hashanah – More on Changing Positions (Column 413)

In column 410 I discussed the claim against Rabbi Melamed that he changes his positions. Among other things, I argued there that changing positions is not something to be condemned. On the contrary, it is a welcome matter that indicates intellectual honesty. Here I would like to continue a bit on this topic, in honor of Rosh Hashanah and the Ten Days of Repentance that are approaching. This is a good opportunity to examine positions and, when necessary, even to change them. But allow me nonetheless to begin with current affairs.

Merav Michaeli: changing positions and also “positions”

In recent days we learned that Merav Michaeli and her partner have welcomed a son through a surrogacy process abroad. This announcement sparked waves of criticism (see, for example, Liebeskind, both on the private level and the public one) mainly from the conservative-right side, but not only from there, and of course also waves of support from the other side (from the left and also from the right).

The criticism from the right concerns both the very matter of surrogacy and, even more so, the coherence of Michaeli, who in the past spoke sharply against surrogacy and regarded it as blatantly immoral and corrupt. She explained that it involves the exploitation of women in difficult circumstances by powerful people of higher status for their personal needs. Beyond that, she also declared more than once that she had no interest in bringing children into the world for various reasons (some of which are of course her private business and I will not address them here), and this too seems odd in light of the step now publicized.

Michaeli herself published a post in which she explained that she personally did not want this, but acceded to her partner’s request and therefore embarked on this problematic process. It is easy to accept such an explanation regarding the second argument (a lack of coherence about her personal plans and desires), but this explanation is less acceptable with respect to her principled argument. Some of the defenses of her relied on her courage and honesty, and on the claim that leaders are in fact supposed to change positions according to their understanding and there is nothing wrong with that (familiar?). Some even spoke of our duty to appreciate her and accept that she has repented, especially in these days.

I too want to discuss this matter in connection with these days, but from a slightly different angle. These are days of self-accounting, and if indeed it is appropriate for a person, private individual or public leader, to change positions, this is a good opportunity to do so. Since Merav Michaeli herself brought both her earlier position and her later one into the public domain, I allow myself to use her case to illustrate the issue.

First note on the issue itself

The very process of surrogacy, especially when done for payment, is a controversial matter. Since this is not my main concern here, I will suffice with a brief statement on the moral-political level (without addressing halakha). In my view, as with prostitution so too with surrogacy, there is no logic or justification to prohibit it across the board (except for cases in which a committee decides it is unjustified, or the woman is in a state that does not allow her to make decisions). It is a choice of profession for livelihood like any other choice (freedom of occupation).

To my mind, it is not essentially different from eating fatty foods, smoking, professional sports, being an actor/actress in theater and cinema, mountain climbing, and other professions whose harm to body and soul is clear and/or that require problematic use of the body or soul (exposing or harming them) for the sake of livelihood. Certainly not when the society that bans these occupations does not compensate the men and women for the hardship it imposes on them. As my wife (may she live and be well) says: if you don’t put bread on the table, don’t offer advice.

And now back to our subject.

Did Merav Michaeli admit a mistake?

I mentioned that some have written that a public figure who admits a mistake is precisely to be appreciated, and in light of column 410 you can understand that I am the first to agree with such a statement. However, there is a small problem here, because Michaeli simply did not admit any mistake. If anything, the opposite is true.

One of the fundamental hallmarks of a penitent is admitting error, or at least recognizing that an error was made. In the case of Merav Michaeli I did not hear such an admission. She keeps saying that she still opposes the matter but yielded to her partner’s wishes. Yet I do not understand how the desire to cooperate with your partner permits you to commit such a terrible moral wrong (according to her own view)? She supports a legal ban on surrogacy in Israel while she herself goes to far-off places to do the very same thing for herself? Is this caring for the weak? This is a paradigmatic example of exploiting a vulnerable woman (by Michaeli’s own account) by powerful people who can afford it.

I note that I do not accept the somewhat demagogic claim that worries about those who listened to her and now see what she herself has done. Whoever listened to her merely because she said so—has a serious problem regardless. Those people made a decision and they alone are responsible for it. Whoever naively follows the opinions and declarations of another (a rabbi, politician, celeb, rebbe, or sorcerer) should direct complaints solely at himself. Still, even aside from concern for Michaeli’s followers, I think that a person who does something that he himself has publicly declared to be a crime and a moral wrong—especially if he is a public figure and certainly a politician—must give the public an accounting. Did she lend her hand to a crime? Did she retract her view? Are there arguments on both sides? If there had indeed been a straightforward admission of error, I would expect her to issue an unequivocal statement in the media that she erred and that from now on she is joining the fighters for surrogacy. I have not heard such a statement from her.

Among the defenses of Michaeli, the claim also arose that we should apply to her Sharon’s rule that “things you see from here you don’t see from there.” Seemingly she now bravely admits that the change in her position led her to understand the error and recognize it and to change her stance. We have already seen that this is apparently not the case here, since she truly does not admit any error. But beyond that, it is important to pay attention to the circumstances. Ariel Sharon became prime minister and was exposed to a point of view, to responsibilities, and to information that he did not have previously. A person like that can perhaps say, “things you see from here you don’t see from there.” But Merav Michaeli was not exposed to any new information. As far as I understand, the only thing that arose now is her and her partner’s personal interest. This is not a change of point of view but the elevation of interest over values.

One can of course argue that the personal angle, and even the interest, led her to personally experience these situations and to arrive at a different position. That can certainly happen. But one can equally argue that interest overrode her ethical judgment and led her to do something that even by her own lights is blatantly immoral. The facts I described earlier—that Michaeli did not offer a public explanation, did not explain the change in her position, and did not announce that she had erred—indicate that the second interpretation is closer to the truth.

A halakhic parallel

Think of a great halakhic decisor who holds a strict, rigid position that he instructs to all his followers, and when the matter reaches him personally he suddenly adopts a lenient stance. How would we relate to such a change of position: is it public courage and intellectual honesty, or is it the elevation of personal interest over values? There is a story/joke about the rabbi who was asked whether it is permitted on Shabbat to lift a donkey that fell into a pit so that it not die. The rabbi ruled decisively that it is forbidden, but when it became known that this was his own donkey he suddenly understood and explained to everyone that there are sides to be lenient. But we need not go far to urban legends. We have a story that I saw claimed to have taken place in our very own milieu.

Dr. Jay Lavee, who was then head of the transplant unit at Tel Hashomer,[1] published in 2005 an open letter to Rabbi Lau (the father). The background to his letter is a story about Rabbi Lau, who, as is known, served as Chief Rabbi and a member of the Council of the Chief Rabbinate, who ruled in a certain case that he describes there (and apparently this is also his general position as part of the Council of the Rabbinate) that it is forbidden to take organs for transplantation after brain death and before cardiac death (my position on the matter is different; see here). By contrast, writes Lavee, when it concerned a relative of his, Rabbi Lau permitted it. He claimed that this is the halakhic position, and even added that whoever claims and acts otherwise is doing so out of ulterior motives.\

I must say that I am not sure this description is accurate,[2] since I did not check whether the case of his relative met the same criteria of harvesting an organ before cardiac death (it was a lung; as far as I understand, lung harvesting must be done at that stage, but I did not check). But let us assume for the sake of discussion that this was indeed the situation. What would we all say about such a ruling? Would we hear appreciation that he bravely retracted his previous position, or condemnations that his personal interest trumped his values? Remember that in Merav Michaeli’s case, it is not even the interest of a relative but her own personal interest.

A person with public influence can change a position, and even if what brought him to it was his personal involvement and experience in such a situation. Even that is legitimate (a person is influenced by his experiences and immediate, first-hand encounters).[3] But in such a case he must make this clear, explain the meaning of the change and its reasons, and from then on act accordingly, privately and publicly.

The “Position”

It need hardly be said that this is yet another example, one of many, of the wonders of partisanship. The critiques and the support come from well-defined and predictable directions. Tell me who the person is and I will tell you whether he is among the critics or the supporters. As I showed in column 410 and elsewhere, it is very hard for us to discuss a person, an action, or a position on their own terms. Matters are usually judged through identification with or opposition to the bottom line. We tend to shoot the arrow and then draw the target around it, and this is a malignant disease in our public discourse.

So too in the present case. One can oppose Michaeli’s view on surrogacy or her current step, and one can oppose her political approach in general, and despite all this support the step she is taking—or the reverse. Even among those who oppose her stance on surrogacy, one can oppose her position and at the same time side with her right to change her position or say that she acted with honesty and courage—and of course also the reverse. It is not reasonable that a person’s identity dictates our attitude toward every action and behavior of his. By the same token, it is not reasonable that our attitude toward one aspect of his step dictates our attitude toward all its other aspects. This is the issue of spurious correlations that I have addressed more than once in the past (see, for example, columns 1, 41, 92 and many more).

As for myself, as I explained above I oppose her (initial) view regarding surrogacy, and I also think that the step she took was improper and unworthy by her own lights. But these are independent statements (at least I hope so).

Back to Rosh Hashanah

In column 367 I pointed out the difference between a ba’al teshuva and a chozer b’teshuva. In rabbinic literature since the Sages, the term ba’al teshuva refers to a person who, even when he sinned, knew what was right and proper to do and what was not, but transgressed because of his inclination, his interests, or any other reason (see on weakness of the will in columns 172–3). The repentance of such a person does not entail a change of values or conceptions but a return to the path that he always understood to be the right one. This is a behavioral change and not a change of conception. By contrast, the term chozer b’teshuva, at least in its contemporary usage, usually refers to a person who held secular conceptions and changed them to religious ones. This is a change of conception and not merely a change in practical conduct (incidentally, the literal meanings of the two terms seem almost the opposite of their contents).

In my essay on the two paths of repentance I argued that even a ba’al teshuva needs to do a bit of teshuva in the sense of changing values and conceptions. I claimed there that there is no sin that exists entirely on the psychological plane. Some root of it is always embedded in the ethical-cognitive plane. This means that the Ten Days of Repentance, a time for self-examination and reviewing our ways, are first and foremost the opportunity to examine our conceptions. People usually link repentance to returning to the right path, that is, to behavioral change. But there is a very essential component that precedes this, namely clarifying what the right path is in the first place.

A change made after such an examination—even if it touches the foundations and first principles (and perhaps especially if it does)—if it is authentic and accompanied by a real shift and not merely surrender to interests, is the beginning of the process of repentance. Such a change indicates intellectual honesty and courage, and it is certainly not worthy of condemnation but of great appreciation.

This requires us to try to detach ourselves from fallacies and errors (which are reflected in spurious correlations), and of course also from partisanship, and to strive to examine the issues on their merits. Obviously, one should not be afraid of a conceptual change that follows from this examination. On the contrary, this is the purpose of the inquiry. After all that, there is also room for behavioral changes (that is, for repentance in its common sense).

May it be a good year for us all.

[1] By the way, just to clarify, I will add that Lavee’s arguments in his letter in favor of defining the moment of death as brain death are ridiculously foolish. He speaks of an irreversibility criterion (no one has returned from brain death to life), but according to that criterion one could harvest organs from any person. From the moment of our birth we are subject to an irreversible process of dying within less than a hundred years, and therefore we were already born dead. I wonder whether this was fatalism that overtook him or, more likely, blatant tendentiousness stemming from the vested interests dictated by his profession (as a surgeon and transplant specialist).

[2] The tendentiousness I described in the previous note raises an even heavier suspicion regarding the credibility of this argument and the fact-checking Lavee conducted.

[3] See, however, column 271 regarding the model of the Council of Torah Sages, and the advantage of decision-making that is detached from the specific situation. Usually, the optimal situation for decision-making is deep personal familiarity with the situation but without personal interest and emotional involvement.