A Look at Modesty and Its Meaning (Column 499)

More than once I’ve been asked on the website (recently, see for example here) about the halakhic definition of modesty. Does it have fixed parameters, or is it contextual? Does it address men as well, and why? Should it be identified with causing another (usually a man) to stumble in forbidden thoughts? And so on.

Already at first glance it’s clear that this concept is ambiguous in several respects. The meaning of the concept itself is not entirely clear. The halakhic source and force of an obligation to be modest are not clear. The halakhic parameters of modesty are likewise unclear. And of course, the question of their variation across space and time is unclear. This ambiguity calls for analysis, and I think it is not accidental. Here too I’ll try to enter the fog and get to the philosophical substrate beneath it. You can assume you likely won’t leave here with a ready-made Shulḥan Arukh of the laws of modesty, but perhaps you’ll be able to form an opinion about whether there even is such a “code,” and what the meaning of this ambiguous concept is.

To appreciate the ambiguity and the lack of basis for the meaning commonly accepted today (contrary to custom I’ll begin with) a brief survey of how this term is interpreted in Scripture and in Ḥazal. As far as I have seen, there are two places where this term appears in the Bible, and in neither does it appear in a sexual context.

The Term “Modesty” in Scripture and Its Commentators: Micah

In Micah (6:8) we find the verse:

“He has told you, O man, what is good, and what the Lord requires of you: only to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk modestly with your God.”

Rashi there brings the Targum:

“Be modest in your going, in the fear of your God.”

Modesty is walking in fear of Heaven. It doesn’t seem that modesty is being identified with fear of Heaven; rather, modesty is a veiled manner of acting out of fear of Heaven (there is a modest fear of Heaven and a non-modest fear of Heaven). So it would seem from the language of the verse itself, for modesty is described there as the manner in which we walk with God (and not that walking with Him is itself modesty). Incidentally, that’s interesting in another respect, since it seems the demand to be modest is not general in all my ways but only within the context of my fear of Heaven. In any case, there is not even a hint here as to what the concept of modesty means. What does it mean to be modest?

Immediately thereafter Rashi offers another explanation:

“Another interpretation: ‘and walk modestly’—not like the attribute of the Holy One, blessed be He, but like the attribute of flesh and blood. The way of flesh and blood is that a person humiliates his fellow and then comes to appease him and says: ‘I will not be reconciled to you until so-and-so and so-and-so, before whom you shamed me, come [and see it].’ But the Holy One, blessed be He, desires only that one should return to Him between himself and his Maker.”

Here we already get an explanation of the term modesty itself: it is remaining within one’s own private domain (not going out into the public domain). When I repent for something, there is no obligation to turn to God publicly; it is enough that I return in private. In other words, modesty means not externalizing things.

So too writes Metzudat Tzion there:

“Veha-tznea—of the language of modesty and concealment.”

If we return to Rashi’s first explanation, it doesn’t seem to propose a different definition; thus it’s reasonable that there’s no dispute between the interpretations regarding the meaning of the term “modesty” itself. Modesty is concealment, or non-externalization. Their disagreement concerns when we are obligated to be modest: in all our ways of walking with the Holy One, blessed be He (fear of Heaven), or when doing repentance. But either way, it seems there is no general value of modesty; rather, it pertains to particular contexts. According to the second explanation, it is a very specific matter that concerns repentance.

Radak there explains:

“‘And walk modestly with your God’—this is the unity of the Blessed God and love of Him with all one’s heart and soul. He said ‘modestly’ because this matter is given over to the heart and is a matter of modesty. And the Targum [renders]: ‘Be modest in your going, in fear of the Lord.’ And our Sages explained: ‘to do justice’—these are the laws; ‘to love kindness’—this is acts of loving-kindness; and ‘to walk modestly with your God’—this is accompanying the dead and bringing in the bride. Now, if with matters that are not ordinarily done in private the Torah says ‘walk modestly,’ then how much more so matters that are ordinarily done in private.”

He again returns to modesty as concealment and keeping matters in the heart, and interprets that there is an obligation to do matters of fear of Heaven discreetly, similar to what we saw in Rashi.

Ibn Ezra there interprets:

“And walk modestly with the Lord alone—that you go in His ways in innocence of heart, the opposite of being stiff-necked.”

It seems he too explains the obligation in the direction of fear of Heaven, but for him it approaches the very obligation of fear of Heaven. The opposite he presents to modesty is being stiff-necked, meaning we are required to serve God and walk in His ways without calculating how it appears to us. It would seem that one who follows his own opinion is not modest.

So too in Malbim’s Bi’ur Ha-Millot there:

“‘Hatznea.’ The ‘modest’ comes as the opposite of ‘presumptuousness’ (Proverbs 11:2): he hides his face from looking toward God and will not be clever over His commandments.”

As for the literal meaning of modesty, perhaps here too the intent is to hide my personal thoughts and views before the commandments of the Blessed One. That is, again it’s about concealment. But the obligation to be modest is, in essence, to serve God. Here there is no value in concealment and non-externalization per se. It’s about concealing unworthy things (thoughts against God and His service), though not necessarily about concealing worthy or neutral things.

And Alshikh writes there:

“Concerning matters between a person and the Omnipresent, he said, ‘and walk modestly with your God’: not only should you serve the Lord with all your heart when people see you, but also when none see you. This is what our Sages said: the measure of a ḥasid is to refrain in private from doing what he would refrain from in public. And this is the meaning of the verse ‘I will act wisely in the way of integrity; when will it come to me?’—what will bring that way to me is that ‘I will walk within my house with integrity of heart,’ in a place where none see me. And this is what Rabban Yoḥanan ben Zakkai said to his students: ‘May the fear of Heaven be upon you like the fear of flesh and blood,’ for a person commits a transgression in private and says, ‘perhaps a person will see me,’ and does not say, ‘perhaps the Omnipresent will see me.’ Thus it says, ‘and walk modestly with your God’—that you shall have modest walking when you are with your God alone and no strangers are with you and none see you but He, blessed be He.”

According to him, it’s about serving God in private, in one’s own “private domain.” This can be understood in two ways: distancing oneself from honor and publicity (not serving in order to garner honor), or an authentic fear of Heaven that is expressed in serving God even when no one is watching. It seems his intent is mainly in the second direction.

The Term “Modesty” in Scripture and Its Commentators: Proverbs

In Proverbs (11:2) the concept appears in the context of wisdom:

“When arrogance comes, then comes shame; but with the modest is wisdom.”

Ibn Ezra there interprets:

“They will bear shame and not answer it; and the ‘modest’ are those who are ashamed to commit presumptuousness, as [in] ‘and walk modestly.’”

At the beginning of the verse it speaks of those who hear their disgrace and do not respond, but that is unrelated to modesty. The second part of the verse deals with modesty, and there it speaks of one who is ashamed to do evil.

Rabbenu Yonah there finds a connection between the two halves of the verse:

“‘With the modest is wisdom’—[modesty restrains a person from words of disgrace and vileness], and few words is a trait of the modest; and modesty brings wisdom to its bearer, for it is the trait of the wise by which they acquire wisdom, as the modest listen and pay heed and do not crave revealing what is in their heart, as it is said: ‘Even a fool who keeps silent is considered wise’ (17:28).”

Here we see that modesty is righteousness—namely refraining from shameful acts. It doesn’t seem to be specifically about shame before others, but refraining from the transgression itself. Why modesty would prevent transgressions is unclear, unless it’s, as we saw above, about pushing aside one’s personal stance in favor of the commands of the Blessed One. But here he writes that modesty is also listening to others (apparently something akin to humility) without jumping to the fore and announcing one’s own positions and opinions. This is essentially “silence as a fence for wisdom.”

Alshikh there explains that the modest are those with patience, thus tying it to the first half of the verse. And Metzudat Tzion writes there (and so too Malbim):

“‘Modest’—those who conceal themselves out of their great humility.”

Here, for the first time, concealment or non-externalization itself appears as a general value, not just in a specific context.

Thus, it seems that modesty is, by all accounts, something positive; but when you try to understand it more precisely you discover it is patience, or humility, or concealment, or listening to others, or shame at transgression—and perhaps shame in general. The concept itself is quite ambiguous, but it seems that at its core it is connected in one way or another to turning inward and not externalizing things. As for what we are required to conceal, there are many views.

The Term “Modesty” in Ḥazal

In the Talmud and rabbinic literature as well, the meaning of this expression is not clear, and you can find there all the meanings we saw here: fear of Heaven, non-externalization, patience and forbearance, righteousness.

The meaning of modesty as opposed to promiscuity (as in Ketubot 2b regarding “modest” vs. “promiscuous” women) also connects to concealment versus externalization. The promiscuous go out to have sexual relations with the many or with strangers, and the modest preserve their chastity to themselves.

In Berakhot 8a we also find that the Persians were modest in the sense that they did not externalize things. In Yoma 39a (and parallels in Kiddushin 53a and Ḥullin 133a) “modest ones” are those who are patient and restrained, as opposed to gluttons. In Kiddushin 71a it appears that the priests were modest in using the Divine Name, “swallowing it in a melody.” All these relate to concealing things—myself, my drives, and my opinions.

In the famous “Sugya of the Modest Ones” (Bava Kamma 68b–69a) the term refers to the pious, or God-fearing. The “modest ones” there took care to reduce the transgressions of offenders (they acted so that thieves would not eat fourth-year produce). Perhaps here too we can see notions of forbearance and self-control: despite anger at the thieves, they take steps to reduce their wrongdoing. They conceal the initial impulse to take vengeance on the thieves.

Ḥazal praise modesty in several other places, and regarding women (Sarah, Rachel, and others) it is mainly in sexual contexts.

What Is Modesty?

Overall, it seems that the biblical meanings of this concept recur in rabbinic literature as well. The literal meaning appears somehow connected to concealment and non-externalization, but as to what should be concealed, the picture is not clear. Needless to say, all these are not halakhic statements.

One more comment before I continue. My friend Nadav Shnerb, in his article “Is There a Halakhic Basis for a Women’s Dress Code?”, argued—largely correctly—that identifying women’s laws of modesty with avoiding causing men to stumble in thought or deed has neither logical basis nor a clear source in Ḥazal. Women’s modesty so as not to cause men to stumble might at most involve the prohibition of “placing a stumbling block before the blind,” but it doesn’t seem to be what “laws of modesty” are. Moreover, it’s unclear how men’s fear of stumbling justifies imposing harsh restrictions on women. If they fear transgression, let them deal with it themselves. Instead of shutting in the women, let them shut themselves in. Of course, there is reasonable proportionality on both sides, but the principle itself is surely correct.

If so, plainly the “laws of modesty” are a value in their own right, not merely a means to prevent forbidden thoughts in others. It is accepted in halakhic or Torah thinking that there is a value of concealment and non-externalization for certain things (for which modesty is “becoming”), and the value lies in the concealment itself, not (primarily) in avoiding causing others to stumble. I note that there are sources where there does seem to be a connection between women’s modesty and men’s stumbling, but in my view that is a symptom, not a cause. When a woman presents herself in a way that causes men to stumble—at least under certain circumstances (the aforementioned proportionality)—this can be seen as an immodest appearance. But not because the purpose of modesty is to prevent stumbling; rather it is merely an indicator. If it causes stumbling, then apparently it is salient, brash, and not modest.

On the other hand, I also disagree with those comparisons some aggrieved men and women habitually make, wondering why these prohibitions are directed at women and not at men, attributing it (of course) to chauvinism and male domination. Of course halakhah was formulated by men, and criticism of that is certainly legitimate and has some justice. Clearly in the past women were not given equal treatment—that too is true. But such critiques ignore the asymmetry between men and women, certainly with respect to the female and male body (objectification is usually done to women). Women and men are built differently—physically (the covered/modest organs of a woman and a man are in different parts of the body) and mentally (the triggers and nature of arousal differ between the sexes)—and one must take both into account.

Take for example the periodic protests that arise, like the “shorts protest”, nursing in public, Knesset dress code protests, and more. Some are justified, but usually the arguments raised in these protests are extreme and rather infantilizing. Thus, for example, to say that if a man is allowed to appear in a tank top or short shorts, then so too a woman should be allowed, is to ignore the physical and mental differences between women and men. First, there is the simple fact that for women the organs typically covered/modest are also on the upper body, and for men they are not. So a man and a woman wearing a tank top is not parallel. Beyond that, the nature and form of arousal in the two sexes are not identical, and this too should be considered. Equality between man and woman should not mean that if he can go out in a tank top—or even without a shirt—then she can too; rather, both genders should be treated equally regarding their modest organs, taking into account the pathways of arousal and responses of both. The apt analogy might be: if it is permitted/forbidden for him to reveal modest organs, then so too for her—but you cannot ignore the fact that her revealing is not like his, and vice versa. The extremity of the arguments and the ridiculous forced symmetry they present makes them foolish, and usually only harms the cause. Of course, this does not mean that there is no place for proper critique in these areas. There certainly is.

In any case, these debates reflect the fact that the concept of “modesty” is truly ambiguous, and it’s hard to set a clear definition for it—and therefore perhaps we shouldn’t. Needless to say, this doesn’t mean there is no such concept (see, for example, in columns 143, 497, and others, the discussion of vague concepts). Difficulty in definition does not indicate emptiness of the concept itself.

The Obligation to Be Modest in Halakhah: Its Scope and Sources

If, nonetheless, we try to locate an obligation to be modest within halakhah, it’s not easy. There are different obligations learned as independent duties but which we tend to connect to the concept of modesty. For example, a woman’s obligation to cover her hair is commonly regarded as part of the parameters of modesty. There are also the prohibitions of seclusion (yihud), drawing near to sexual prohibitions, and more. Perhaps all the obligations of dat Yehudit (see Rambam, Hil. Ishut 24:12) are of this sort, though from a look at the sugya itself it’s not entirely clear that we’re talking about binding halakhic obligations. There it is mainly about grounds for divorce and situations where the husband is exempt from the obligations of the ketubah. Beyond that, it’s unclear whether the parameters listed there are examples drawn from what was customary in their day—each place and time must follow its own prevailing norms—or fixed guidelines that apply everywhere and always and are not meant to change.

I won’t enter here into a list of the laws that are gathered under the “laws of modesty” heading. That is a classification made after one understands the concept of modesty, but it usually doesn’t exist at the source. Nor will I try to explain the nature of the prohibitions and obligations of modesty—whether they come to prevent objectification (as apologists love to claim today), to prevent forbidden thoughts among men (and perhaps women), or whether it is an independent value. The reason I refrain is that from the sources I get a very clear sense that the value of modesty does not originate in the Torah, nor entirely in Ḥazal. It is rather a healthy intuition we have (perhaps influenced by the Torah and Ḥazal, but now standing on its own) that there is value in concealment and non-externalization of personal aspects of our lives. The discussions you’ll find in halakhah about binding details and parameters are to be taken with great caution. For almost any source that will be brought, I could argue that it isn’t truly binding, or at least that it was said for its time. You can read at length in Rabbi Melamed’s overview here, both a general introduction and an attempt to define halakhot of covering and modesty for women. His conclusion is that there are binding parameters not dependent on circumstances; but I do not agree, and I will now explain why and what the implications are.

The Subjectivity of the Laws of Modesty

Almost every engagement with the “laws of modesty” today begins by asking whether such laws exist at all. I mean mainly: are these “laws” in the sense of specific, binding halakhic parameters, or is it a general directive—perhaps something that belongs more to the “spirit of the law”? I’ll bring two sources that are often cited in this context.

First is Ritva at the end of tractate Kiddushin (82a):

“Everything depends on Heaven’s view. And so is the halakhah: everything is according to what a person recognizes in himself—if it is fitting for him to make a fence for his inclination, he does so, and even to look at a woman’s colorful garments is forbidden, as stated in Avodah Zarah 20b. But if he recognizes in himself that his inclination is subdued and subject to him and arouses no impurity at all, it is permitted for him to look and to speak with a forbidden relation and to inquire after a married woman’s welfare. This is the case of Rabbi Yoḥanan (Bava Metzia 84a), who sat at the bathhouse entrances and did not fear the evil inclination; and Rabbi Ami, to whom the imperial handmaids would go out (Ketubot 17a); and many of the Sages who spoke with matronae (Kiddushin 40a); and Rav Adda bar Ahavah, of whom it is said in Ketubot that he bore a bride upon his shoulders and danced with her, and did not fear improper thoughts—for the reason stated. But one should not be lenient in this except if he is a great ḥasid who knows his inclination; and not all Torah scholars can trust their inclinations, as we see in our sugya in all the cases it brings. Fortunate is he who overcomes his inclination and whose occupation and craft is in Torah, for words of Torah sustain a person in his youth and give him a future and hope in his old age, as it is said, ‘They will still bring forth fruit in old age; vigorous and fresh they will be.’”

And so in Divrei Ḥamudot on the Rosh, Berakhot ch. 3, §37 (16), discussing what is called ervah in a woman:

“It seems that every place follows its custom; the reason is that things people are accustomed not to cover are not called ervah, because one does not come to [arousal] through them, given that one is accustomed to them—as we find later regarding voice and hair.”

From both sources it follows that the parameters of modesty depend on time, place, and norms; therefore we should not drive stakes into them. Again, this does not mean there is no demand to be modest; it means the demand is not halakhically defined in an absolute way.

Thus, for example, it is well known that Lithuanian women—including some wives of well-known roshei yeshivah—did not cover their hair (see here for a statement from the Chazon Ish and the discussion following). Specifically regarding hair covering, I personally think this has no basis (since the obligation of a woman’s hair covering has a clear source in the Gemara—if not in the Torah—and in this it is almost the only “law of modesty” that has such a character. See my article here). But the fact is that these matters are perceived as dependent on prevailing norms. The above discussion opens with a statement from the Chazon Ish who says this explicitly:

“It happened that our master, the Chazon Ish, of blessed memory, was approached by a young man regarding a proposed match, where the girl’s mother goes without a head covering—whether to pursue such a proposal. The Chazon Ish answered: If she comes from a Lithuanian home, you may proceed, for in Lithuania not all were strict about this. But if she is from a Hungarian home, do not proceed, for that indicates a flaw.”

True, you will find other approaches among the halakhic decisors (see Rabbi Melamed’s review cited above), but I find them unconvincing. Plainly, modesty is a matter of context, circumstances, and social norms—and that’s how it is typically perceived and presented. So why are many decisors reluctant to accept this approach? I suppose their position stems from a tacit assumption that halakhah cannot be structured that way—without fixed, detailed, binding parameters. From there they conclude that the parameters set by Ḥazal are binding in themselves and do not change with changing social norms. I now wish to address that assumption itself.

First Example: “You Shall Do What Is Right and Good”

The Torah commands us (Deuteronomy 6:18):

“You shall do what is right and good in the eyes of the Lord, so that it may go well with you, and you shall come and possess the good land that the Lord swore to your fathers.”

Ramban explains there as follows:

“‘You shall do what is right and good in the eyes of the Lord’—according to the plain meaning, it says: observe the commandments, testimonies, and statutes of the Lord, and intend in doing them to do only what is good and right in His eyes. ‘So that it may go well with you’—a promise: in doing what is good in His eyes, it will go well for you, for the Lord bestows good upon those who are good and upright in their hearts. And our Sages have a fine midrash on this: this is compromise and going beyond the letter of the law. The intent is that after stating that you should keep His statutes and testimonies that He has commanded you, now He says: even in what He did not command you, set your mind to do what is good and right in His eyes, for He loves the good and the right.

“And this is a great matter, for it is impossible to mention in the Torah all of the conduct of a person with his neighbors and friends, and all of his commerce, and all the repair of civilization and states. But after mentioning many of them—such as ‘You shall not go about as a talebearer’ (Leviticus 19:16), ‘You shall not take vengeance nor bear a grudge’ (ibid. v. 18), ‘Do not stand idly by your neighbor’s blood’ (ibid. v. 16), ‘You shall not curse the deaf’ (ibid. v. 14), ‘You shall rise before the aged’ (ibid. v. 32), and the like—He returned to say, in general, that one should do what is good and right in every matter, until this includes compromise and going beyond the letter of the law, such as what they mentioned regarding the law of a neighbor’s right of first refusal (Bava Metzia 108a), and even what they said (Yoma 86a): that his merchandise be beautiful and his speech pleasant with people—until he will be called in every respect ‘blameless and upright.’”

Being right and good is not well defined. It seems that this is how Ramban explains why it is not included in the halakhah: the Torah cannot detail precise parameters here; therefore it lists matters that can be precisely defined, and sums up the rest in this general verse. This is akin to the hermeneutic “generalization–specification–generalization,” i.e., taking listed particulars and extending to all like them (see detailed discussion in the second volume of my Talmudic Logic series, General and Particular Measures in the Talmud). Hence, this is also the reason why this “commandment” is not counted in the enumeration of the commandments—even in Ramban’s additions to Rambam. We don’t count commandments that cannot be well defined on the practical, halakhic plane.

The Maggid Mishneh (M”M) at the end of Hilchot Shekheinim writes similarly regarding the law of the neighbor’s right and its expansion to “the measure of Sodom” (discussed in Bava Batra 12b and parallels):

“The matter of the law of the neighbor’s right is that our perfect Torah gave, for the repair of human traits and one’s conduct in the world, generalities by saying ‘You shall be holy’—meaning, as our Sages said, sanctify yourself in what is permitted to you, that you not be steeped in lusts; and likewise it said, ‘You shall do what is right and good,’ intending that one conduct oneself well and uprightly with people. It would not have been proper in all this to command particulars, since the Torah’s commandments apply at all times and in all circumstances; therefore it is necessary [for the person] to do so [i.e., to determine them himself]. Human traits and conduct change according to time and persons. The Sages wrote some helpful particulars that fall under these generalities—some they made an absolute law, and some le-khatḥilah and as a way of piety—and all are from their words. Hence they said, ‘Beloved are the words of the Scribes more than the wine of the Torah,’ as it is said, ‘for your love is better than wine.’”

Very likely his source is the Ramban above. But here it is stated more explicitly: they did not make it absolute law because they could not define the matters unambiguously. Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein elaborates on this at length in his essay “Morality and Halakhah in the Jewish Tradition.”

But as I understand it, the claim that halakhah does not include commandments or obligations that cannot be practically defined and that change by circumstance does not withstand the facts. Commandments such as fear of God and love of God, love of one’s fellow, “to serve Him,” cleaving to His attributes, and even honoring parents—all are counted commandments, and none can really be defined sharply in practical terms. The fulfillment of them all may and should vary by circumstances and times. Even Torah study, as several halakhic authorities have written, is a mitzvah without a clear definition in scope and content (see part two of column 479, my article here, and also my essay on sevarot).

The conclusion is that halakhah is indeed willing to include abstract and vague obligations—those that have no sweeping, objective definition and whose practical application varies by time and circumstance. So why don’t the enumerators of the commandments include “you shall do what is right and good,” “you shall be holy,” and the like? I think the answer is very simple: these are obligations that do not belong to the halakhic sphere as such, and therefore they don’t belong in the enumeration. They are moral or meta-halakhic obligations by definition, and including them in halakhah would saw off the branch on which they themselves sit. Put differently: the Torah wants us not to fulfill them out of halakhic compulsion but out of understanding that this is fitting behavior—and therefore it deliberately does not command them. This is what I called “the scoundrel’s paradox,” which I discussed in several places (see, for example, column 15).

Second Example: Love of One’s Fellow

One of the examples I cited above of a vague obligation is “You shall love your fellow as yourself,” love of one’s fellow. At the beginning of Hilkhot Avel 14, Rambam addresses the difficulty of defining it and writes:

“It is a positive commandment of the Sages to visit the sick, to comfort mourners, to take out the dead, to bring in the bride, to escort guests, to attend to all the needs of burial, to carry [the deceased] on one’s shoulder, to walk before him, to eulogize, to dig and to bury; and likewise to gladden the bride and groom and to supply them with all their needs. These are acts of kindness performed with one’s person, with no set measure. Although all these commandments are rabbinic, they are included in ‘You shall love your fellow as yourself’; that is to say, whatever you would like others to do for you, do that for your brother in Torah and commandments.”

At first glance, his words seem contradictory. He describes this set of obligations as “by words of the Sages,” yet all are included in “You shall love your fellow as yourself,” which is a biblical positive commandment. So are they rabbinic or biblical?

Plainly, Rambam’s intent is exactly as I described above. There is a commandment of love of one’s fellow in halakhah—explicitly commanded in Scripture. But its practical parameters are not univocal. Certain obligations can be set clearly and absolutely—funeral processions, bringing in the bride, visiting the sick, and the like—and these the Sages established as obligations. But the biblical obligation is not exhausted by these deeds; rather, it encompasses all expressions of love, which can vary with circumstance and context.[2] Indeed, when you visit the sick out of love you fulfill both the biblical mitzvah and the rabbinic obligation; but if you visit solely by dint of the rabbinic obligation and not because of (intellectual) love you bear toward him, then you fulfill only the rabbinic command. Hence, at a basic level it is defined as a rabbinic obligation.

Modesty as a Vague Obligation

The upshot is that there is room within halakhah for vague obligations whose practical expressions are not fixed and depend on circumstances. Sometimes a halakhah has some expressions that are fixed and others that are variable and circumstance-dependent (as with love of one’s fellow, and also Torah study). Beyond that, sometimes it is a moral or axiological obligation rather than a halakhic one—and yet its vagueness does not make it any less binding or important. The vagueness just doesn’t allow us to define it properly; therefore halakhah or the Torah leaves it as a vague obligation without practical definition.

It seems to me that modesty should be viewed in this way as well. It is an obligation that has certain halakhic expressions defined as independent duties (yihud? drawing near to sexual prohibitions, hair covering for women), but in the background there is a broader conception that is also binding. One can view it as an extension of “generalization–specification–generalization,” as we saw in Ramban. Is modesty truly binding on the halakhic plane? I’m not sure. But it’s quite clear that it is a meta-halakhic or Torah value.

As an aside, if indeed it is a non-halakhic obligation (and again, I’m not certain), it would seem we have here a value that looks like a particular Jewish value. If so, it is natural to wonder how this squares with my claim that values are by definition universal—not Jewish, Christian, or otherwise. My claim is that if it is a worthy value, then every human being is bound by it—even if not Jewish—and if it is unworthy, then even a Jew ought not act that way. In this sense, modesty too is universal. There is such a human value, and if it is worthy (and I think it is), then it binds all humanity, not only Jews. That it can be seen as also the Torah’s will (if indeed it can) is true; but the fact is that many across the world understand this, not necessarily from the Torah and certainly not out of commitment to it. The same goes for humility, dedication, and the like. These too are values that can be found in the Torah but are not “Jewish values” in any essential sense; they are universal values that can be found in the Torah (and outside it).

The Categorical Status of Modesty

Our conclusion was that there is no halakhic impediment to including such (vague) obligations within halakhah. Modesty can be a halakhic obligation, even if only a small part of it appears in halakhah as sharp, binding definitions (such as women’s hair covering). From that part we can learn that the Torah wants modesty from us in a more general way, similar to what Ramban and the Maggid Mishneh wrote about the obligation of uprightness (again, as a kind of “generalization–specification–generalization”). Unlike what emerges from their words (and as Rabbi Lichtenstein also understood them), as I see it it’s not necessarily correct that this is not a halakhic obligation. There are also halakhic obligations that are not determinate, or are vague—whose practical contours depend on circumstances and our understanding of them (and therefore, of course, there are more disputes around them). In principle, such an obligation could even be counted in the enumeration of the commandments (though here there is no explicit source, so it was not counted).[3] The Torah commands us in a general way, but its practical expressions—some or all—depend on circumstances. There is also the possibility that it is a moral or axiological obligation and therefore not enumerated (as with “you shall do what is right and good” and “you shall be holy”). In any case, the conclusion is that it is reasonable that there is a value of modesty in the Torah even though its parameters are not sharp.

As an aside, it is plainly not a moral value in the strict sense. No other person is harmed or wronged by my lack of modesty; thus it’s hard to see this as a moral (ethical) obligation in the usual sense. In the terms of column 154, one could say it is a human—or aesthetic—value. It is fitting for a person to be modest, not because immodesty harms someone, but because this is the proper mode of human conduct. This is an axiological intuition that doesn’t belong to the sphere of ethics. These are human traits, and one should work on them as well—though they are not necessarily moral traits.

A Philosophical Look

We can attribute the vagueness of the concept of modesty to the relation between a concept and its practical manifestations. My claim is that the concept of modesty exists as a kind of Platonic idea; but its practical expressions vary with circumstances. This means that change does not imply that there is no such concept, or that we are dealing with several different concepts. It is the same concept, but its practical expressions depend on circumstances and people’s views. I have written similar things more than once about the concept of “morality,” which, in different configurations of circumstances, can be expressed in different, even opposite, ways. Still, it is not correct to say there is no such thing as morality, and that we merely have a homonym. On the contrary, the very debates testify that there is such a concept (otherwise there would be nothing to debate—see, e.g., column 456), but there are disagreements about it, and its appearance changes with changing circumstances.

This takes us back to Kant’s distinctions (see column 495) between the thing-in-itself and the thing as it appears to us. Kant dealt with these distinctions regarding entities in the world (phenomenon and noumenon). But I have often pointed out that these distinctions are relevant to concepts as well (see, for example, “Two Wagons” in the second gate), which corresponds quite closely to the Greek pairs matter–form or substance–accident—also relevant to concepts. My claim here is that the concept of “modesty” in itself (its “matter” or essence) is a single existing concept, but its features (its phenomena) can change across people and circumstances. At the end of column 497 I suggested a similar proposal regarding the concept of “woman,” and in column 492 regarding the concept of “love.” What is distinctive about the concept of modesty is its relation to halakhah—and that is what arouses all the wonder, polemics, and questions around it. The sense is that a halakhic concept must be well defined also on the practical (phenomenal) plane; but as we’ve seen here, that is not necessarily the case.

[1] On the relationship between humility and modesty, I discussed this in my article here.

[2] One could argue that the biblical obligation is to love in one’s heart, and the practical expressions are rabbinic; but I’m not inclined to think so, as I explained in column 22, in the article “Platonic Meanings for Emotions in Halakhah”, and elsewhere. In my understanding it is an intellectual love—i.e., an attitude toward the other, not (primarily) an emotion.

[3] It is not clear whether there is a real difference between this picture and what emerges from Rabbi Lichtenstein’s words. It may be that he too means that this is why the commandment was not enumerated (in which I disagree with him), yet it remains a fully halakhic obligation.