Conventions and Rational Truths: The Public’s Role in Shaping Values (Column 177)

With God’s help

This past Sabbath we studied a passage in Ein Ayah, and it shed light for me on what Maimonides writes at the beginning of his Guide of the Perplexed about Adam’s sin. The matter naturally also connects to the Torah portion of Bereshit, which we read that same Sabbath. Maimonides there distinguishes between conventions and rational truths, and I wanted to reflect on that distinction and point out that it is not quite so sharp.

Maimonides’ remarks

In Guide of the Perplexed Part I, chapter 2, Maimonides raises a difficulty about Adam’s sin:

A certain wise man raised with me, years ago, a great difficulty. One must reflect on the difficulty and on our answers in resolving it… The plain sense of the verse seems to indicate that man’s original intention was to be like the other living creatures, without intellect or thought, and unable to distinguish between good and evil. But when he rebelled, his rebellion brought him this great perfection unique to man—namely, this faculty of cognition found in us, which is the noblest of the qualities found in us, and by which we are constituted as what we are. Yet it would be astonishing if the punishment for his rebellion were to grant him a perfection he had not previously possessed, namely intellect. That would be like saying that a certain man rebelled and committed grave wrongdoing, and therefore his nature was changed for the better and he was set as a star in the heavens.

The narrative describes Adam and Eve as receiving the “punishment” of knowing how to distinguish between good and evil. Maimonides asks how such a thing could be a punishment. After all, their understanding was enhanced as a result of the sin.

He answers:

…for the intellect that the Creator bestowed upon man, which is his ultimate perfection, was granted to man before his rebellion, and because of it it was said of him that he was in the image of God and in His likeness. Because of it, God spoke to him and commanded him, as it says, “And the Lord God commanded”; for commandments are not given to animals or to one who has no intellect. By means of intellect, man distinguishes between truth and falsehood, and this was present in him in complete perfection. But what is disgraceful or fitting belongs to the realm of convention, not intellect: one does not say, “It is fitting that the heavens are spherical,” or “It is disgraceful that the earth is flat,” but rather, “true” and “false.” Likewise, in our language one says of what is correct and what is void, “true” and “false,” and of what is fitting and disgraceful, “good” and “evil.” Through intellect man knows truth from falsehood, and this applies to all intelligible matters. When man was in the perfection and completeness of his state, together with the thought and intellect because of which it was said of him, “You made him little lower than God,” he had no capacity whatsoever to employ conventional categories or grasp them. So much so that even the most obvious case of disgrace according to convention—namely, nakedness—was not disgraceful in his eyes, and he did not perceive its shame. But when he rebelled and inclined toward his imaginative desires and the pleasures of his bodily senses, as it says, “that the tree was good for food and a delight to the eyes,” he was punished by losing that intellectual apprehension. It was because of this that he rebelled against the commandment, which had been given to him precisely on account of his intellect; and then he acquired awareness of conventional categories and sank into perceptions of shame and attractiveness. Then he understood the measure of what he had lost, what had been stripped from him, and in what state he had come to be. Therefore it says, “and you shall be like God, knowing good and evil,” and it does not say, “knowing falsehood and truth,” or “grasping falsehood and truth,” for good and evil do not belong to necessary truths at all, but truth and falsehood do. Reflect also on the verse, “And the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked.” It does not say, “and the eyes of both of them were opened, and they saw,” because what they saw before is what they saw afterward; there was no blindness upon the eye that was removed. Rather, something else was newly generated in them, through which they found shame in what they had not previously regarded as shameful…

He explains that before the sin, Adam and Eve knew how to distinguish between truth and falsehood and understood rational truths. But the category of conventions did not yet exist for them. That entered their world only after the sin. He adds that, in effect, their intellectual apprehension of truth and falsehood was taken from them, and in its place they sank into conventions, that is, into the seemly and the unseemly, which are measured in terms of good and evil.

What are the “conventions”?

Maimonides here distinguishes between factual claims and other kinds of claims. Factual claims are examined in terms of truth or falsehood (that is how Aristotle defined a proposition). But the unseemly and the seemly are not judged in terms of truth and falsehood. Therefore these are conventions, not rational truths. But here Maimonides links good and evil to the seemly and the unseemly, and includes all of them under the heading of conventions.

At first glance, it appears that he classifies moral and evaluative claims (good and evil) under the heading of conventions. If so, then in his view these are not factual claims that can be judged in terms of truth and falsehood, but conventions judged in terms of good and evil. But this understanding of his words is puzzling. In many places Maimonides treats moral principles as part of the intellect, and a moral person as wise. For example, in chapter 6 of the Eight Chapters he distinguishes between rational commandments and revealed commandments. That is, moral commandments are, in his view, part of the intellect.

It seems that here he does not mean moral claims but claims of etiquette and modes of conduct. Table manners and social conventions are conventions, “accepted notions.” Their validity derives from social agreement. Maimonides says of them that doing X or not doing Y is good or bad, like seemly or unseemly. But it seems that his intention here is not good and evil in the sense used with respect to moral claims, but rather in the conventional sense of the seemly and the unseemly. Maimonides is essentially saying that there is value in behaving in a civilized way that is accepted in the society in which we live, and therefore one can also say of such actions that they are good or bad. But these are not absolute values like moral values; they are values dependent on society and on social conventions.[1]

The most striking example he gives here of conventions is going about without clothes. That was the state of Adam and Eve before the sin. At that stage they did not perceive this as unseemly, and that understanding was born in them only after the sin. Awareness of conventions was created in them after the sin, and that was their punishment. But if so, it is still not clear why this is a fitting punishment for a sin. After all, a mode of perception was added to them that they had not had before (Maimonides did not say that it is unworthy to behave in accordance with conventions). It seems that his point is that before the sin, walking without clothes really was not bad. A state in which there are no conventions is a more perfect state. True, once conventions exist one must behave in accordance with them and not separate oneself from the community. But the very condition in which there are conventions and not only rational truths or morality is an inferior one, and that is what came into being after the sin. That is why this is a punishment. Before the sin, the norm accepted among them was to walk naked, and therefore there was nothing bad about it. What came into being after the sin was the very convention that one should not walk that way; more precisely, what came into being was the very obligation to conform to social conventions. That in itself is an inferior state, since, as noted, he writes that this came at the price of a retreat on the intellectual plane. But once such a state has come into being, one must obey those conventions.

The meaning of moral claims

If so, in his view moral claims are not conventions, and they are judged in terms of truth or falsehood. This indicates that, in his opinion, there is a binding moral truth. In factual claims, the way to judge their truth or falsehood is to compare the content of the claim to the state of affairs in the world that it describes. If there is correspondence, the claim is true; if not, it is false. But what comparison can be made with respect to moral values? Against what does one measure a moral claim in order to determine whether it is true or false?

This is why many retreat to the view that morality is some sort of social convention, one of the “conventions,” and this seemingly takes us back to Maimonides’ words above. But, as noted, I think his intention here is not morality but social and etiquette conventions. Morality, in his view, belongs to the realm of rational truths.

In my book Emet Ve-lo Yatziv and in the fourth booklet, I argued that what emerges from here is moral realism, that is, that there is something in reality that we apprehend in order to discern what is good and what is not. That object is not a physical object, of course, but an ideal object. One may say that this is the Idea of the good or of morality. Nor is the observation of it done with the eyes or the senses, but with the eyes of the intellect (“the eyes of the intellect”)—again, Maimonides’ own terminology in those very chapters of the Guide of the Perplexed, especially chapter 4—that is, through moral intuition (conscience). This is an intellectual contemplation of morality. If seeing with one’s eyes is considered something maximally objective, something difficult to dispute, then this sort of contemplation is very subjective, and of course there are quite a few disputes regarding its products (moral values and their application). That is why some see it—and morality in general—as something subjective or as a mere convention. But that is not so.

What follows from my remarks is that inserting morality into the category of conventions is a kind of category mistake, rooted in an unwillingness to accept that there is something there to be apprehended and that morality can have objective meaning. In Rav Kook’s words cited above there is a further hint that morality is a kind of intermediate category between conventions and rational truths, and that is what I want to address here.

Two kinds of “many”

A Talmudic passage in Berakhot 6a deals with the indwelling of the Divine Presence among a group. Here I cite only the part that concerns us:

And from where do we know that when ten pray, the Divine Presence is with them? For it is said: “God stands in the congregation of God.” And from where do we know that when three sit in judgment, the Divine Presence is with them? For it is said: “In the midst of judges He judges”… But if even three suffice, is there any need to mention ten? With ten, the Divine Presence comes first and is already present; with three, only once they are seated..

The Talmud here says that the Divine Presence rests upon ten Jews, but also upon three (and even upon one; see the passage there). In the end, the Talmud distinguishes between two situations: with ten, the Divine Presence rests immediately (regardless of what they are occupied with, even before they pray), whereas with three it rests only at the time of judgment and not beforehand (see Rashi there).

Rav Kook writes the following about this:

There are matters for which three are considered a majority, such as legal cases and the blessing of the zimmun, and the like. And there are matters for which ten are considered the many and constitute the full required number, and no fewer.

He asks why in some contexts only ten count as “many,” whereas in other contexts three suffice. To explain this he opens with the distinction between conventions and rational truths that we have already encountered:

And the root of the difference appears to be as follows: there are two kinds of conduct in which a person must walk on the good and upright path, which is the path of God, bringing honor to those who practice it and honor to him from others. That is, in intellectual matters, whose categories are truth and falsehood; and in conventional matters, whose categories are good and evil, or fitting and disgraceful.

It is easy to see that the terminology is borrowed from Maimonides, of course.

He now explains how this distinction bears on our issue:

And the difference is this: with regard to truth and falsehood, since man has no power to determine the boundary of truth definitively, he must in every doubtful judgment follow the majority. Therefore, in intellectual matters and judgments, three constitute a majority, for they have the power of decision, since a court cannot be evenly balanced. But in matters of convention, whose whole basis is general agreement, for this purpose the many are no fewer than ten; ten are the basic unit of the many with respect to publicly accepted consensus.

Now, among people who walk in the upright path, regarding conventional matters there is no doubt that what they agree is fitting is truly fitting, and what they agree is disgraceful is truly disgraceful. Therefore, an individual may not separate from the community in any way. But regarding the distinction between truth and falsehood, one cannot say that the minority can never hit upon the truth; rather, once the majority has decided in one direction, the minority is obligated to set aside its view. Therefore, with regard to three judges, only once they are seated and the majority has decided in favor of one side does the Divine Presence come, and the divine influence then accords with the decision. But with ten, the Divine Presence comes first and is already present; there is no need for a decision to generate it. For what is publicly accepted by the many is so in itself in matters of convention, and there is no need for a formal decision to say that only then is the matter determined..

In intellectual and judicial matters there is an objective truth, one that does not depend on the forum that determines it. The majority within the forum is only an indication that this is the truth, but even if they are mistaken, the truth does not change. The majority can of course be wrong. The reason we follow the majority in questions of truth and falsehood is only because the majority is an indication that this is the truth, though of course not an absolute indication (see columns 66, 69 and 79). By contrast, in questions of the seemly and the unseemly—that is, conventions—the majority determines and constitutes the truth, and does not merely indicate it. What the majority says is the truth, because we are dealing with conventional truth (= conventions). In such contexts, the public convention is the truth itself.

Therefore, Rav Kook explains, when three sit in judgment, their mere presence there is no guarantee that truth will emerge from them. The Divine Presence rests only on the decision that emerges from them (which is also reached by majority view). Those three are perhaps “many,” but they are not a public. Their purpose is not to establish a convention but to decide what the truth is. For that, three suffice. Therefore the Divine Presence does not rest upon the three until a decision is reached, since only then does truth emerge from them (and even if not, the Divine Presence rests upon that decision because it is written Follow the majority (‘follow the majority’), and from our perspective the majority is itself the legal truth). But with ten who have gathered to pray, we are dealing with a public and not merely with many individuals. A public exists only from ten and up. The public establishes binding conventions, and therefore what is involved here is conventions. As we saw, conventions are determined essentially by the public. It is the public that constitutes them. Even if not by the entire public, then by a majority that counts as the whole. Therefore with ten there is no need to wait for a decision in order for the Divine Presence to rest. Whatever the decision may be, the very gathering of the public brings the Divine Presence, because with respect to conventions the public has a constitutive status. This does not depend on what they decide (that is, whether they hit upon the truth) but on the mere fact of their being a public.[2]

Therefore, in Jewish law an individual is permitted to depart from the majority decision, since a majority in a religious court does not essentially determine the truth. As the Talmud states in Horayot 2 (one who errs regarding the commandment to heed the words of the Sages — “one who errs regarding the commandment to heed the sages”), an individual need not obey a religious court that has erred. If they erred, that is not the truth. But separating from the public is not an option. The public determination itself (with respect to conventions) is the truth. Therefore there the majority determines matters essentially, and one may not separate from it. Ironically, it is precisely in questions in which truth is not what determines matters that the obligation to follow the majority is absolute. In questions of truth and falsehood, the majority is an indication, but there is no absolute obligation to adhere to it.

I should note here that Rav Kook’s distinction resembles the distinction I presented in column 66 between a democratic majority, which constitutes the truth, and a majority in a religious court, which tries to hit upon the truth (and this is what is learned from Follow the majority).[3] In the democratic-political context, the majority is not an indication of the truth; it is the truth itself, unlike in a religious court, where the majority is only an indication that this is the truth.

What are the “conventions” according to Rav Kook?

A further look at Rav Kook’s words shows that he too understood, as I suggested above, that when Maimonides spoke of conventions he did not mean norms of morality or Jewish law (good and evil), but only conventions (the seemly and the unseemly), which by their nature are determined by the public. Moral principles (good and evil), as well as halakhic rulings, belong to the realm of rational truths, and that is what the religious court deals with. All these are judged in terms of truth or falsehood (and not of unseemly and seemly).

The moral and halakhic category: the problem of terminology

Even if we accept this interpretation of “conventions,” one cannot deny that Rav Kook’s and Maimonides’ terminology is problematic. It contains ambiguity and lack of clarity. The unseemly and the seemly are clearly conventions. Factual claims clearly belong to truth and falsehood. But in both of them, the terms good and evil express only the unseemly and the seemly (and stand in contrast to truth and falsehood). As we saw, moral principles, which for us are usually associated with good and evil, belong for them to the axis of truth and falsehood. But if so, then their use of the terms good and evil as though these were synonymous with the unseemly and the seemly, in opposition to truth and falsehood, is strange and calls for explanation. Good and evil usually refer to the ethical plane.

It seems to me that this terminology reflects a widespread intuition regarding moral norms. They really do concern truth and falsehood (there is a right and a wrong there), but nevertheless there is something conventional about them, that is, a component that depends on social agreement. We saw above that many regard moral norms as conventions. And we also saw that Maimonides and Rav Kook probably do not think so, yet their terminology still points to some sort of kinship between moral and halakhic norms and the unseemly and the seemly as well, even though they are not simple conventions. This is an intermediate category between the truth-falsehood axis and the unseemly-seemly axis. It contains elements of both.

And indeed, above we saw that at the basis of morality too there is some kind of observation, which is why it belongs to truth and falsehood, but we also saw that this is not simple sensory observation. I explained that Maimonides sees it as observation with the eyes of the intellect. So what is that conventional component in the moral context? This is certainly not convention in the full consensual sense, for if it were, we would empty morality of its force. But still, the confusing terminology and the intuition as well hint that society has some role in the moral context. On the face of it, there is a sense that morality is something between truth and falsehood (the objective, which does not depend on public agreement or majority decision) and the unseemly and the seemly (the conventional, which depends on public agreement or majority).

Public influence on the individual’s values

When we studied these things, I thought that perhaps one could understand this intuition and terminology as follows. Society really does have a role in the moral context. Although this is not a convention (like the seemly and the unseemly), it is hard to ignore the fact that society does indeed influence our moral perception. There is, of course, a very broad common moral foundation across all societies, but there are also differences. Different societies perceive at least some moral principles differently. And the individuals who belong to them are very much influenced by the conceptions accepted in their society.

Moreover, even within the same society there is moral change over time. What is perceived in a given society as bad at one point may become good or neutral at another. Take, for example, the questions of slavery, abortion, gender equality, homosexuality, democracy and civil rights, individualism, sexual harassment, and more—things whose moral status has changed very deeply over the years. That same society has reversed itself with respect to these values, and therefore it is hard to claim that the individual’s perception is unrelated to the norms accepted in his society.

Of course, one can propose two technical mechanisms for these phenomena that strip them of significance:

• One can say that there is really no influence from the public to individuals; rather, this is a mechanism in which individuals change their position for some reason (a renewed contemplation of the Idea of the good), and when enough change accumulates, a social change arises at the macro level.
• One can also say that there are influences from the public to individuals, but these are non-substantive influences (brainwashing, propaganda, conformism, fashions—political correctness and the like).

But my feeling is that there is something deeper here. People really do change their views under the influence of society, but this is not a non-substantive process, and it also does not necessarily point to the subjectivity of values.

A proposed solution

I think that contemplation of the Idea of the good—the one that yields our judgments and our distinction between good and evil—is itself carried out publicly. The one who observes values and forms positions regarding them is the public, with the individual included in it, and therefore the individual’s view of good and evil is influenced by the society in which he lives. He is influenced by the general norms of his society, and of course also by its positions regarding the specific topic under discussion. My claim is that this is not necessarily brainwashing or political correctness, and it is also not necessarily conformism (as in explanation b above). But there is something that goes from the public to the individual and not only from the individual to the public (as in explanation a there). My claim is that what we have here is a process that is essentially public. The public shapes a moral worldview. The observation with the eyes of the intellect is carried out publicly, and therefore every individual within it who forms a position does so in a way that is not independent of the public. The public helps us distinguish between good and evil and shape our values. In this context, the public functions as a sophisticated havruta (study partner). We study ethical issues within the framework of public discourse and response, and thus change our values.

In my view, this is why people feel that if their values are not accepted by the public at large, they require examination. Public acceptance is regarded as an important measure of the correctness of values, and therefore it is no wonder that some see values as social conventions. But according to my proposal, although there is something to this, it is not an accurate description. The public is not the source of the convention but rather a “study partner” that helps me contemplate correctly. On the other hand, we tend to accuse those who adapt themselves to the spirit of the public of conformism, which is of course sometimes true. But in my opinion that too is not necessarily correct. Because of the built-in ambiguity of this non-sensory “observation,” the process needs to be public. The individual needs confirmation that others too see things as he does, and only then is he convinced that he has indeed observed correctly. This is public confirmation of his evaluative perceptions. Therefore the spirit prevailing in society contributes to the shaping of the individual’s views. As noted, this does not necessarily point either to conformism or to the subjectivity and conventionality of values.

Is the public always right?

None of this means that the public is always right, or that the individual may not allow himself to disagree with accepted conceptions. On the contrary, he must stand his ground in order to create a real debate. Only where there is a real debate does the conclusion of the debate, and the public spirit that emerges from it, have force. That is how complex issues are clarified. It is no accident that Rav Kook speaks of halakhic truth as something that the majority does indeed determine, but without certainty that the majority is correct. There are situations in which the minority is right. But every individual must take the spirit of the public into account. Not in order to be a conformist, but to use it in forming a correct evaluative stance. On the one hand, he must stand his ground; on the other hand, he must look seriously at the spirit accepted in the public in order to examine his positions carefully and shape them.

For example, the dilemma raised in this thread (regarding abortion) reflects the tension felt by a person who stands against the values accepted in his society. Has he still failed to grasp something, so that he must reexamine his positions (drawing on the spirit of the public), or is it rather the public that is mistaken, so that he must fight for his views and not yield? Sometimes a person yields to that spirit, but as I wrote there, even if I think he is mistaken I would not necessarily judge him negatively. The fact that this is the prevailing spirit in a substantial part of society constitutes a mitigating circumstance.

Moral and scientific progress

If values are not mere agreement, then changes in them are not simply the replacement of one fashion with another. Such change is supposed to be a kind of progress toward fuller and deeper ethical truth. By way of comparison, one should note that even in the scientific context, at least in complex issues, the agreement of the scientific community matters. Thomas Kuhn, the philosopher-sociologist of science, sees this as “scientific politics,” because he understands theory as a paradigm whose validity derives from the agreement of the scientific community. That is mere convention, and its replacement is essentially a change of fashion. I disagree with him on this. In my opinion, this is progress and recognition that the previous paradigm was mistaken. One should remember that even in scientific research we are dealing with generalizations and not with simple sensory observations, and because of the ambiguity and complexity of this mechanism, the individual scientist expects public confirmation for his proposals and views. Public acceptance is a measure that helps us reach conclusions in complicated and non-univocal situations. Therefore, in my view, a change in theory and paradigm reflects scientific progress. The community sees that the fuller and deeper scientific picture is different from what they had thought until now. And again, there is not necessarily room here for criticism in terms of conformism or surrender to fashions.

My claim is that this is also the explanation for changes in the evaluative and moral norms that occur in different societies. Public contemplation suddenly discovers that there was a mistake and that the conceptions need to be updated. This is not necessarily fashion or merely conventional change; sometimes it is moral progress. As in the scientific context, it is difficult for a private individual to discern this, and the shift in the public outlook is what gives validation to the collection of feelings held by isolated individuals that this is indeed progress—that is, a more correct and deeper ethical understanding.

Back to conventions and rational truths: an intermediate category

This is my proposal for understanding morality as an intermediate category between conventions (the seemly and the unseemly) and rational truths (the true and the false). In morality, society has a role (as in relation to the seemly and the unseemly), but there is still moral truth (unlike in relation to the seemly and the unseemly). In this context, the public spirit does not constitute the truth (as in relation to the seemly and the unseemly) but helps reveal it (as in relation to truth and falsehood). That is why the confusion arises that identifies morality with convention. There is something correct in this, but it is interpreted incorrectly. It is not really a convention, because here the public is an indication of the truth and does not constitute it. In Rav Kook’s terms, this is similar to what happens in a religious court and not to what happens in a congregation/prayer quorum/public.

The obligation not to separate oneself from the public exists also with respect to the seemly and the unseemly, but there it is because the public’s position constitutes the seemly and the unseemly. That obligation exists in a certain sense also with respect to morality, but there it is only an indication of good and evil, not that the public position constitutes them. Therefore, when necessary, in moral contexts one certainly should separate from the public, and not be someone who is one who errs regarding the commandment to heed the words of the Sages (“mistaken in obeying the sages”), or mistaken in yielding to majority opinion.

Moral progress

Several times in the past I have written against moral relativism. It is usually based on the fact that there are evaluative differences between different societies, and that a society’s evaluative conceptions change over time. To reject that claim, I used as an illustration what usually happens in encounters between East and West. The fact is that Western values usually spread at the expense of Eastern values (see the list of such values above). Some attribute this to Western dominance and its use of coercive processes, but I do not agree. That exists too, of course, but there is also recognition that these values are more correct. With apologies for the condescension and Western hubris, in such encounters there is a directionality, and this points to an axis that traces the direction of moral-evaluative progress.

My claim is that conservative societies that encounter such values recognize that there is something correct about them (even if not fully, and even if the liberal West sometimes takes them too far), and therefore generally adopt them. The illusion of relativism and moral subjectivity created by the multiplicity of moral conceptions in different societies is mistaken. The multiplicity of conceptions exists because this is a complex and non-univocal “observation.” The process of progress requires discourse, discussion, and working things through in a broad public arena. But the fact is that there is a direction of progress, and this hints that we are dealing with a process of development and advance, not with conventions—mere arbitrary agreements.

[1] There is room to examine the connection between this distinction and the question whether there are rules of morality that do not harm others. See on this in column 154 (on aesthetic values). I think there is not necessarily an identity here, and this is not the place for that.

[2] To be sure, in the straightforward sense of the Talmud this is speaking about the gathering of a prayer quorum for prayer, and therefore the connection to conventions is not the Talmud’s direct meaning. Here I am discussing Rav Kook’s interpretation of the Talmud and its significance, without expressing any opinion about how well it fits the straightforward meaning of the Talmud.

[3] I showed there, from the words of the medieval authorities (Rishonim), that a constitutive majority is indeed not learned from the verse Follow the majority (which deals with a truth-seeking majority) in its plain sense. It is an extension based on reasoning. Therefore, in our context too, following the majority rests on a different principle from the one that operates in a religious court.