Between the Zomet Institute and the Weizmann Institute (Column 557)
“You’ll send your son to the Weizmann Institute and I’ll send mine to the Shimshon Institute, and we’ll see who gets there first.”
(Salim and Raza about his beloved son Nesharke, in the Gashashim’s basketball skit.
With a great and pity-tinged hope to see that schlemazel serving honorably as a PIVOT.)
In column 121 I celebrated finding a marvelous song I had searched for many years. The song is about the squandering of the talents of people like Einstein, Spinoza, and Ahad Ha’am, who could have been magnificent synagogue sextons (shamashim): making kugel and slicing herring (during the Musaf prayer) and reciting the “Mi Sheberach” for those called to the Torah; instead, they wasted their time and abilities on trivialities like the theory of relativity, philosophy, and the like.
There I noted that hearing this raises the following question, which is a serious one:
The question that arises here is essentially what is more important: the Zomet Institute or the Weizmann Institute? Or, in the golden words of Salim and Raza to their son Nesharke: you send your son to the Zomet Institute and I’ll send mine to the Weizmann Institute and we’ll see who gets there first. Is it more important to develop the theory of relativity or an automatic chametz detector? Who is more faithful and contributes more to Judaism: Einstein or the synagogue sexton? What do you say about this? I certainly think these are questions worth pondering. There is something to these claims, except that it’s only a partial truth. But as noted, this is not the place for an overly heavy investigation; we’ll leave that for another time.
About half a year ago Yaakov demanded that I redeem the note, meaning to discuss the question I left open. What really is more important, the Weizmann Institute or the Zomet Institute? Einstein or the synagogue sexton? Einstein and physics, of course, serve here only as a parable. We could speak as well about a writer, poet, or artist in another field who creates masterpieces—and of course also about one who contributes in other areas of knowledge, technology, and science. In this column I will try to address that question, as a continuation of the earlier column.
Several levels of discussion
By way of preface, we can distinguish here among several levels of engagement with the sacred. There is no commandment to be a sexton, though it is a service of communal needs and has religious value. There is direct engagement in mitzvot, such as establishing a “rare-mitzvot society” (transporting groups of righteous people to fulfill the commandments of redeeming a firstborn donkey and, if not redeemed, breaking its neck). These are mitzvot for which we are under no obligation (neither an absolute obligation nor a conditional one). Alternatively, what about engaging in positive commandments (building the Temple, promoting the public’s donning of tefillin), which are already a halakhic duty? Or perhaps establishing and advancing Torah classes for the children of Israel. Is that preferable to developing relativity theory, quantum theory, psychology, evolution, and the like?
For now I will set these differences aside and ask more generally: from a religious perspective, what is truly preferable? I think that from a halakhic standpoint there is no question: all of these, at every level, take precedence. But there’s a sense that this does not exhaust the discussion, because from a broader vantage it is very hard to accept such a sweeping and total ruling. Something here doesn’t really “make sense.” In what follows I’ll raise a few reflections on the matter; I have no decisive and crushing argument for my intuition. I’ll be happy to read additional remarks and arguments in the comments, pro and con.
First formulation: What is more important for humanity?
Of course one can ask: what is more important for humanity? On that question, it would seem that an automatic chametz detector—or even establishing a charity organization—is surely less important to humanity than a significant scientific discovery or even an important work of art (though I assume some will dispute this). Why is that, really? A chametz detector prevents us from a prohibition, and many would say there is no benefit in that to society or to other people; therefore it’s a formal matter and thus less important. But I reject this outright. It is clear that the prohibition of chametz is significant; otherwise it would not have been prohibited to us. There is some spiritual benefit in guarding against it. If so, a chametz detector that prevents our violating chametz is a matter of real significance and does have benefit for the world and/or for ourselves.
One can argue that theoretical knowledge has value in itself. To my understanding, this is a very important value. But beyond the value of knowledge itself, there is here a direct or indirect contribution to healing and helping many people, and these are certainly enormous contributions to the world—somewhat more than slicing herring or even engaging in an actual mitzvah. Of course, one might claim that the rectification of “Netzach within Hod” also constitutes a contribution to the world, and that it is more important than contributions that seem greater to us. Perhaps; but I am very doubtful.
We should remember that regarding science too, there are approaches that locate its principal value in its contribution to humanity—namely, in the technology built upon it. But scientists and philosophers generally see research and the accumulation of knowledge as a value in itself. It is not merely a “means to a mitzvah” for the sake of advancing technology and practical benefit to humanity; rather, possessing knowledge and exercising thought are themselves a very important value. Needless to say, there are many sources in Maimonides pointing in this direction. In his view one gathers that knowledge and study are the true and essential value, while helping people (ethics and technology) are only the infrastructure enabling us to have a proper society and people in sound condition, so that all of us—or at least those of us suited to it—can learn and grow wise.
Second formulation: What is more important for Judaism?
Even if we grant the premise that Einstein’s contribution to humanity is more significant, one might say this is not a contribution to Judaism but to humanity. Therefore we can ask: which of the two contributes more to Judaism?
One can argue that the contribution of relativity theory is also to Judaism and not only to the world. Both because there is Jewish-religious value to knowing the world and the Creator (as noted, Maimonides emphasizes this in several places, should anyone need a source), and because the implications of relativity for healing and improving people’s condition are no less important than saving people through an act (rescuing from drowning) or through charity that improves a poor person’s life. In this sense, we are talking here about charity on an entirely different scale. On this view, this is literally the fulfillment of a mitzvah.
Even if it is a contribution to humanity and a universal value, that doesn’t mean the Torah is indifferent to it. It’s not included in halakhah, but it certainly constitutes a value according to the Torah as well. A Jew is first of all a human being (or at least ought to be), and only afterward also a Jew. The obligations incumbent upon all human beings also apply to him, beyond his particularistic obligations. This is the meaning of the Talmud (Sanhedrin 59a): “There is nothing that is forbidden to a descendant of Noah yet permitted to a Jew.” This, of course, greatly smooths the difference between the two formulations: the question of religious value and that of universal value now appear very similar, if not identical.
Still, even if we accept that universal values possess religious value, one may wonder whether there remains room to prefer the particularistic value over the universal—akin to the legal canon called lex specialis (preference for the specific). I will arrive at this later (in the discussion of the relation between the basic and the important).
Third formulation: What is more important to me?
Even if we conclude that being a gabbai (sexton) contributes more to Judaism than inventing relativity theory, there still remains the question of whether I, as a Jew, would prefer (on an axiological plane, not merely a utilitarian one) to be a gabbai rather than a physicist. Alternatively, as a parent or educator, would I send my child toward scientific research rather than toward a track in “Gabbai-hood: Introduction to Herring Slicing 1,” followed by “Advanced Kugel Slicing”?
Why indeed not? There is, of course, the fear of spiritual decline: quite a few people, when exposed to academic fields, find that their religious commitment and/or faith is impaired. It is easier to preserve religious commitment and faith within a bubble of simple, conservative life—the synagogue sexton, a rank-and-file herring slicer. By the same token one can speak of sanctification of the Name (Kiddush Hashem) in a Jew’s being an important scientist or significant creator (perhaps even more than the Kiddush Hashem of the certified herring-slicers). But these are side matters for the issue at hand. I am trying to examine the intrinsic value, not the collateral outcomes of these pursuits.
If we set those side considerations aside, it would seem that the essential value is engagement in mitzvot. The secular world and life of the mundane are only a platform for the essence of our lives, which lies in the religious sphere. Somehow we’ve learned that one doesn’t merit the World to Come for discovering relativity theory, but for a small or great mitzvah—yes. Beyond that, I have argued more than once that it seems implausible to me that the purpose of the creation of the world and humanity is culture and ethics. Those are only means to a proper society, but it is not plausible that they were the purpose of creation, because if a human society had not been created, we wouldn’t need it to be proper. It is therefore more plausible that there should be another purpose to creation, and it would appear that this is precisely the Torah and the mitzvot.
And yet, with all due respect to the education we received, my intuitive feeling is that this is untenable. Partly because knowledge as such has intrinsic value (not only as a means)—an important value both universal and Jewish—and partly because there is an important distinction, which many ignore, between the question of what is more fundamental or basic and the question of what is more important. This also returns us to the question I left open above, regarding the relation between universal and particularistic value. I will now elaborate.
Between the basic and the important
There is a built-in tension between the basic and the important. Not only do they not necessarily go together, but sometimes they are outright opposites. One source for this principle may be found in Nahmanides (Ramban) on Parashat Yitro, in his commentary on the commandment of Shabbat in the Ten Commandments. He writes there (Exodus 20:8):
“And it is also true that the attribute of ‘Remember’ alludes to a positive commandment, which issues from the attribute of love and is of the attribute of mercy, for one who fulfills his Master’s commandments is beloved to Him and his Master has mercy upon him; and the attribute of ‘Keep’ is in the negative commandments, and it is of the attribute of judgment and issues from the attribute of fear, for one who guards himself from doing that which is evil in the eyes of his Master fears Him. Therefore, positive commandments are greater than negative commandments, just as love is greater than fear, for one who fulfills and performs with his body and money the will of his Master is greater than one who merely guards himself from doing what is evil in His eyes; and thus they said that a positive commandment comes and overrides a negative commandment.”
That is, “Remember” (zachor) is a positive commandment and “Keep” (shamor) is a negative commandment. Zachor is love and shamor is fear. He writes that for this reason positive commandments are greater than negative commandments, and therefore a positive commandment overrides a negative one. But his next sentence is surprising:
“And because of this, the punishment for (violating) negative commandments is greater, and we carry out judgment in them—such as lashes and death—whereas we do not carry out judgment at all for (neglecting) positive commandments, except in cases of rebellion, as when someone says ‘I will not perform lulav and tzitzit; I will not make a sukkah,’ for the Sanhedrin would beat him until he accepted upon himself to perform (the mitzvah) or until his soul departed.”
He states that the punishment for a negative commandment is more severe than for neglecting a positive commandment—which is, of course, a simple fact. But he claims this is “because of this,” i.e., for the very reason just stated. Yet above he wrote that positive commandments are weightier than negatives; so why, for that very reason, is the punishment for a positive less severe?
The She’dei Chemed explains that with regard to fulfillment, a positive commandment is higher than a negative; but with regard to neglect, a negative is more severe than a positive. Transgressing a negative commandment is a graver offense than neglecting a positive; but fulfilling a positive commandment is more significant than refraining from violating a negative. Note that there is now nothing surprising in Ramban’s words; it is even to be expected, since we are dealing with two sides of the same coin. Because the positive is higher, the reward for its fulfillment is greater than the reward for refraining from a negative. But the flip side is that the punishment for neglecting a positive is lighter than the punishment for violating a negative. One can put it this way: the positive is more important, but the negative is more basic. Not violating a negative commandment is a basic requirement; therefore, one who fails to meet it deserves a more severe punishment. But fulfilling a positive is a higher demand; thus one who fulfills it merits greater reward, while one who fails to meet it is not such a serious offender. Fulfilling a positive is righteousness of a high order; precisely for that reason it is not a basic demand, and one who does not meet it is not gravely wicked. Violating a negative, however, is great wickedness; therefore refraining from it is not a great virtue but a basic requirement.
For the same reason there is a hierarchy within the negatives: refraining from very severe transgressions is less “significant” than refraining from lighter ones. So too regarding transgressions from which it is easy to abstain (they carry little cost) versus those from which it is hard to abstain. Conversely, with transgressions that people “trample underfoot” (which everyone belittles and violates), one could argue the punishment should be greater (see Rashi at the beginning of Parashat Ekev), but one could also say the punishment should be lighter (since it is hard to avoid them and perhaps their severity is not great).
Applying this to our case
We can apply this principle to our questions in several ways. First, even if the mitzvot are the purpose of the world, the basic infrastructure required of all inhabitants of the world is to be human beings and to create a proper, mundane society. Therefore, the mundane and the universal are more basic, even though Torah and mitzvot are higher. It is easier to say this about moral values vis-à-vis halakhic values, but scientific knowledge or artistic creativity do not seem like something more basic than mitzvot. Here, of course, we must distinguish between slicing herring and establishing charity organizations or Torah classes.
But from a Jewish perspective one can say that precisely the mitzvot are the basic platform, and scientific research and artistic creation are a second story built atop it. Engagement in them earns greater reward, but abstaining from them is not so grievous. This is not a basic demand of every person, which is why it is also not part of halakhah. On the other hand, it is clear that these values are relevant and shared by all humanity and not only by Jews, whereas halakhah is unique to Jews. Does that not indicate that science and art are more basic and therefore less important? I’m not sure, because the premise that the missions of non-Jews are less important is, in my view, not necessarily correct. They are different, but not necessarily less important or more basic. They have fewer missions, of course, but it does not follow that these are less important or more basic.
People say: “Your this-world is my next-world.” Caring for another’s material needs is a spiritual-religious value. Perhaps similarly one can say that the concern for establishing a proper, moral, and intellectual society has intrinsic value, not only as a means for repairing society and the human being. Even if ethics and science are the platform for a proper society that can engage in mitzvot, investing in and advancing the platform is itself a value, not merely a means.
So too regarding Torah study versus issuing halakhic rulings. At first glance, Torah study is a means intended to enable me to render halakhic decisions. There is some truth to this: learning in order to do; arranging the sugya in accordance with the halakhah; study that leads to action; and the like. But it is quite clear that study itself has value, not merely instrumental value (I expanded on this in column 479 and elsewhere, where I showed that Torah study is specifically non-instrumental study).