חדש באתר: NotebookLM עם כל תכני הרב מיכאל אברהם

The General Principles of the Melachot – Lesson 19

Back to list  |  🌐 עברית  |  ℹ About
This is an English translation (via GPT-5.4). Read the original Hebrew version.

This transcript was produced automatically using artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.

🔗 Link to the original lecture

🔗 Link to the transcript on Sofer.AI

Table of Contents

  • [0:00] The difference between inadvertent transgression and unintentional action
  • [3:34] Misoccupation — a combination of inadvertence and lack of intent
  • [7:20] The dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda about transgression
  • [11:16] The difference between misoccupation and inadvertence — what exactly was the mistake?
  • [13:51] The need for conceptual analysis before discussion
  • [20:38] Tosafot and Rashi on misoccupation and a detached piece
  • [29:16] The elephant example in Guide for the Perplexed
  • [30:43] An accurate definition of an elephant and an incorrect description
  • [33:18] Errors in describing cutting — essence versus incidental features
  • [34:49] The essence of a person: intellect versus will according to Rabbi Kook
  • [38:26] Taxonomy and classification of objects in scientific perception
  • [39:36] Coordinate systems for describing physical reality
  • [41:45] Copernicus and choosing a convenient coordinate system
  • [44:21] Philosophy of science: theory before data?
  • [48:50] Newton and the construction of gravitational theory
  • [50:27] Subjectivity in classification and scientific descriptions
  • [52:18] Individualism versus fascism — a metaphysical debate
  • [54:55] Definitions: arbitrary or a true description of reality
  • [57:25] A philosophical conception of error
  • [58:50] Constitutive versus directive definitions
  • [1:00:51] Rashi against Tosafot on cutting
  • [1:02:54] The difference between unintentional action and inadvertence
  • [1:04:32] Misoccupation — connecting unintentional action and inadvertence
  • [1:06:34] The discussion in Maimonides on the laws of the Sabbath
  • [1:08:53] The connection between unintentional action and compulsion
  • [1:12:58] The question of the road and the prohibition against the smell of idolatry
  • [1:19:28] Tosafot on intention and cutting something attached

Full Transcript

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, let’s summarize the main points we saw. In the previous lecture I set inadvertent transgression alongside unintentional action. Inadvertence is basically a claim of compulsion, of lack of culpability, a claim of lack of blame, and therefore a reduction in punishment. I don’t deserve punishment; I’ll bring an offering instead. Unintentional action, simply speaking, is not a claim of compulsion but a claim of absence of transgression—not absence of blame, but absence of transgression. If I acted unintentionally, then I simply didn’t commit a transgression. I’m exempt not because I’m not guilty, not because I deserve leniency, but because there’s nothing for which to blame me, okay? And of course that connects to the fact that in unintentional action there’s no dimension at all of inadvertence. When I drag a bench and that creates a furrow, I know in advance that this furrow might be made. It’s not that I don’t know; it’s not that I didn’t notice that a furrow could be made here. Rather, I know very well that a furrow could be made here. If it’s certain, then it’s an inevitable result, and even if it’s not certain, I still know that while it’s not certain, a furrow may be made. There’s nothing here from the family of inadvertence or compulsion or anything like that. Therefore, if there were not a special exemption of unintentional action, and we were speaking only on the scale of inadvertence, compulsion, and claims of lack of culpability, there would be no claim of lack of culpability here. None. You would be liable to stoning. So why is unintentional action actually permitted? Because there’s nothing for which to punish me. There’s nothing for which to give me stoning. Not because I have arguments for leniency in punishment, but because there is no transgression. There’s nothing to punish. Of course this is the dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda, but according to Rabbi Shimon—which is also how we rule in Jewish law—what,

[Speaker B] I have no responsibility?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not that you have no responsibility—there is nothing for which to take responsibility. You didn’t commit any transgression at all. It’s like asking: I ate a sandwich, why don’t they flog me? The answer is because there’s no prohibition on eating a sandwich—why would they flog me? It’s not because I’m not guilty because I didn’t know something or whatever. I knew everything, everything is fine, but eating a sandwich is not prohibited, okay? So when I do something without intent—not intent in the halakhic sense; lack of intent in the everyday sense is actually closer to misoccupation.

[Speaker B] Intent in the halakhic sense, of prohibition and permission maybe—not, no, no, in the jargon…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In halakhic terminology, when we speak about unintentional action, it’s not “unintentional” in ordinary Hebrew. “I didn’t mean it” in ordinary language is actually more similar to misoccupation. The “unintentional” of Jewish law means: my purpose in doing the act was not this but that, yet I knew exactly that this would also happen, and I took that into account as well, okay? That is the meaning of unintentional action. So—well, you’re pulling us back into last semester’s lectures, I won’t get into that now. In any case, the claim is that inadvertence and unintentional action are actually at two ends of a scale. Inadvertence is a claim for leniency in punishment or lack of culpability, and unintentional action is a claim of absence of transgression, not absence of culpability, okay? Now my claim is that misoccupation is a combination of the two. That is, in misoccupation there is a dimension of absence of transgression, and of course also a dimension of lack of culpability. Why? Because in misoccupation, for example, when I intended to cut something detached and I cut something attached—or to lift something detached and I cut something attached—in such a case, first of all, of course I didn’t intend the prohibited labor. So there is the dimension of unintentional action here. But it goes beyond unintentional action. Because in unintentional action I knew that a furrow would be made, but I didn’t intend it—I didn’t do the act for that purpose. Here I didn’t know I was going to cut something attached. There is also a dimension of inadvertence here, in addition to the dimension of unintentional action, or something similar to unintentional action. There’s also the dimension of inadvertence. And therefore misoccupation is really at the bottom of the food chain. If we create a hierarchy among these three exemptions, then inadvertence is the most severe—of course there’s intentional transgression, but after intentional transgression, inadvertence is the most severe, because there is a Torah-level transgression there in every respect; it’s just that your blame is reduced, okay? By contrast, in unintentional action there is blame but no transgression, okay? There is blame but no transgression. I also didn’t commit the transgression, and I’m also not guilty. Or in other words, where would the practical difference be? Suppose there’s a case where, according to some of the medieval authorities (Rishonim) or some of the amoraim, Abaye and Rava, there would be no exemption of misoccupation. Say, he intended to cut something detached and cut something attached. According to Abaye there’s no exemption of misoccupation here. Abaye says that only when he intended to lift something detached and cut something attached is it misoccupation. Did he intend to cut? If he intended to cut something detached and cut something attached, that’s not misoccupation. So what—would he be liable to stoning? No. So we say, right: the dimension of unintentional action doesn’t exist here according to Abaye, okay? But still, obviously he did not intend the prohibition; he didn’t know about the prohibition, he didn’t intend it. He didn’t know about the prohibition, so it would not be more than a sin offering, okay? That’s the practical difference. Because after all, if there’s no transgression, then why should I care to discuss whether there’s blame or no blame? If there’s no transgression, then there’s nothing for which to blame. Why is it important for me to emphasize that in misoccupation there is also the dimension of inadvertence, and not only the dimension of absence of transgression like unintentional action? Because in cases of misoccupation that do not fall into the category of misoccupation according to various opinions, then the transgression will indeed be there. But we still haven’t left the category of inadvertence. It won’t be more than inadvertence, okay? One more comment on this map. According to Rabbi Yehuda, who says that unintentional action is liable—perhaps only rabbinically, I said there’s a dispute among the medieval authorities, but simply speaking it seems he is actually liable—then clearly the hierarchy is that unintentional action is the most severe, inadvertence is next, and misoccupation is below that. Why did it suddenly switch? Because according to Rabbi Yehuda, in unintentional action—after all, intent, blame, exists in unintentional action according to everyone. It’s just that according to Rabbi Shimon there’s no transgression. What do I care that he’s guilty? He’s guilty of eating a sandwich—there’s no transgression, okay? But according to Rabbi Yehuda there is a transgression. Once there is a transgression, it becomes an intentional transgression, the most severe thing there is, because there is both transgression and blame. Right? The dispute between Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Yehuda is over the question whether there is a transgression here. Okay? Both of them agree there is blame in unintentional action; it’s just that according to Rabbi Shimon it’s irrelevant, because blame for what? There’s no transgression here. And it’s not that I’m claiming I’m not guilty—I didn’t know, I was inadvertent, compelled, something like that. No, I knew everything. There are no claims here of lack of culpability or reduced culpability, okay? So this is basically… because it’s not defined—if I ate a sandwich, I knew I was eating the sandwich and I did it intentionally. So making a furrow on the Sabbath is… well, okay, it’s the same as eating a sandwich, what’s the difference? I made a furrow. What, is it forbidden to make a furrow? It’s permitted. It’s forbidden to make a furrow when I intend to make it. If I don’t intend it, it’s like eating a sandwich—it’s the same thing. Meaning, you did an act that is not a transgression. Therefore I say I’m not entering the question whether you’re guilty. This is a neutral act, meaning an act like any other act, okay? Here, intention defines the act as not an act of transgression. Intention here does not function as an argument about punishment, that you’re not guilty. It’s not from the family of exemptions like compulsion, inadvertence, and the like, okay? What? In a place where there is misoccupation,

[Speaker C] that means there is no—he doesn’t believe there’s any such thing as unintentional action at all.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no, no. He argues that misoccupation is not an act of transgression. Unintentional action is an act of transgression. Those are two different things.

[Speaker C] And also a sin offering?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Of course. It’s not because… even according to Rabbi Shimon, it’s a new exemption. It’s just that according to Rabbi Shimon both are not acts of transgression, but each for its own reasons.

[Speaker C] And they exempt it as though it comes from the same genre?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Only in the sense that according to Rabbi Shimon, in both cases there is no act of transgression. But the reason why there is no act of transgression can be different in each case. And then Rabbi Yehuda accepts one and not the other. Okay?

[Speaker D] So why is unintentional action not considered a transgression according to Rabbi Shimon?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In principle, yes—that’s a dispute among the medieval authorities. There are medieval authorities who say this is only on the Sabbath, and only rabbinic. In the rest of the Torah it is a Torah prohibition. But on the Sabbath, because of “intentional, constructive labor,” there are medieval authorities who claim that even according to Rabbi Yehuda it is not a Torah prohibition. There are medieval authorities who say it is, that it is a Torah prohibition.

[Speaker E] Why is that more severe than inadvertence if it’s only rabbinic?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No—if it’s a Torah prohibition, it’s more severe than inadvertence. If it’s a rabbinic prohibition, then it’s only because of the issue of intentional, constructive labor. Because of that issue, in terms of the general halakhic definitions, say, in things that are not

[Speaker C] the Sabbath—Rabbi Shimon, it’s just some additional decree, it’s not connected at all…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no, no, because if he says—no, but he says it’s rabbinic because of the law of intentional, constructive labor, not because of the law of unintentional action. According to Rabbi Shimon you are exempt because it is unintentional action. According to Rabbi Yehuda you are exempt because of intentional, constructive labor. And then he adds to that a rabbinic prohibition. But the Torah-level exemption is not the same exemption according to Rabbi Yehuda and according to Rabbi Shimon. It’s a full exemption, but for different reasons. According to one view it’s because of intentional, constructive labor, and according to that other view it’s because of unintentional action. Ah, that’s what you were saying. Of course, the rabbinic level is less severe. Obviously. But I’m just saying that on the conceptual level, the straightforward reading of Rabbi Yehuda is that he is liable in areas outside the laws of the Sabbath. In the rest of the Torah it is a full Torah prohibition. It may be that on the Sabbath there is an issue of intentional, constructive labor, but in the hierarchy we are talking about, he is liable. And that is more severe were it not for the issue of intentional, constructive labor. I said there is a difference between unintentional action and misoccupation. There is a difference between misoccupation and inadvertence, and between misoccupation and unintentional action. The difference between misoccupation and inadvertence lies in the question: what exactly was your mistake about? Ordinary inadvertence is someone who missed some circumstantial piece of information—that today is the Sabbath, or that this is halakhically prohibited, whether circumstantial, factual, whatever. Misoccupation is someone who missed information touching the essence of the action he is doing. Not some information like what day it is or whether it is halakhically prohibited. The information he missed is not what is written in the Shulchan Arukh and not what date appears on the calendar. The information he missed is what he is doing. Meaning: what is the thing he is doing? Okay? That is the difference between misoccupation and inadvertence. Misoccupation is a deeper kind of inadvertence. It’s not just that he missed external circumstances; he missed something in understanding the situation he is in, in the act he is doing. What is the difference between misoccupation and unintentional action? As someone pointed out to me in the previous lecture, in unintentional action a person does two acts. One is permitted and one is prohibited. Right? I drag a bench, which is permitted, and I also make a furrow, which is prohibited. The making of the furrow as such—if I drag it and make a furrow, then according to Rabbi Shimon there is no prohibition. By contrast, in misoccupation I am not doing two things. I am doing one thing. I am simply lifting this thing; it turns out that I thought I was lifting something detached, and it turns out I cut it. Okay? It turns out I didn’t do what I thought I was doing, but did something that is prohibited. But in practice, if someone looks from the side, I am doing one action, not two. It’s just that I do not know that the action I am doing is the prohibited action, or I do not know what the action is that I am doing. But I am doing one action, not two. Therefore there is no identity between any of these three components. Inadvertence, unintentional action, and misoccupation are three different things; each stands on its own. And still, I say that misoccupation is some kind of combination of the type of inadvertence—with a different type of mistake—and the type of unintentional action—where it is not an act of transgression, but in a different way. Okay? So we need to pay attention. When I said it is a combination of unintentional action and inadvertence, I didn’t mean literally a conceptual fusion of these two. Rather, it belongs to a category that combines these two categories. One category is arguments about punishment, and the other category is arguments about absence of transgression. But what the arguments are is different from inadvertence and different from unintentional action. Okay? This conceptual analysis, by the way, is just an important lesson, because many times people enter a topic, get tangled up—questions, answers, approaches, disputes, all sorts of things of that kind—without first doing conceptual analysis. Once you do conceptual analysis first, many times the questions don’t even arise and you don’t need answers. Everything is perfectly fine. There’s a story told about Rabbi Chaim of Brisk, who for a short period was head of the yeshiva in Volozhin together with his father, Rabbi Yosef Dov. His father, by the way—Rabbi Chaim was apparently not very popular in Volozhin—and his father explained to him why. He said: listen, when I come into a lecture, I raise ten difficulties and then introduce one conceptual principle that stitches all the difficulties together. Everyone dances with joy—what a delight, a wonderful new insight. But when people come into your lecture, you present three ways to understand the passage. According to this it’s like this, according to that it’s like that, according to this it’s like that. No question arises, no answer is needed. That’s it, you just lay out the tree and go home. So there’s none of that catharsis, right? There’s none of the… the tension created by the difficulty and the catharsis you get from the—well, I won’t use the term catharsis—but you don’t get that relief, that release, from the answer. Okay. Once I had a phone conversation with some Haredi yeshiva head. My son left a Haredi yeshiva; he had been in a Haredi yeshiva and moved to Gush. So there was a bit of a crisis over there in the yeshiva, because fine, if he goes off to some vocational track, okay—but Gush is an alternative, it’s an alternative to their yeshiva, and that was out of the question. There was a whole battle there, never mind. In any case, I spoke by phone with some yeshiva head from Bnei Brak who deals with these dropouts. He said to me: listen, I read things by Rabbi Lichtenstein—this is basic. I don’t understand what people are even looking for there. Any kollel fellow from the Chazon Ish kollel or the Ponevezh kollel does things a thousand times higher-level. So I said to him: you’re talking like a child. Meaning, children think that way. But adults—yes, children think that way. Why do they think that way? Because this is exactly the difference between the Beit HaLevi and Rabbi Chaim. Meaning, when you read an article by someone from the Chazon Ish kollel or the Ponevezh kollel, it starts with difficulties and answers and novelties, and you can ask this and ask that, and disputes among the medieval authorities here and there. And with Rabbi Lichtenstein—those who know—his lecture was like Rabbi Chaim. That is, he lays out several possibilities; according to each possibility it’s like this, like this, and like this; this is what comes out; the practical differences are such-and-such; he places the medieval and later authorities into each of the possibilities, and goes home. No questions, no answers, nothing. It just doesn’t arise. All the difficulties that in the Chazon Ish kollel and the Ponevezh kollel they labor to resolve don’t arise in that lecture at all. So children are very excited by the brilliant direction. But serious people understand that this is far more serious, okay? So here too it’s the same thing, and coming back to our topic—I once even gave a course on this issue, on what’s called conceptual analysis. And what I feel is that many times in analytic study in yeshivot, conceptual analysis is missing. We begin immediately to enter the topic, and there are disputes and this one says this and that one says that. We don’t try to clarify for ourselves the concepts we’re dealing with. And many times, a simple look—without knowing the Talmudic texts and without knowing the medieval authorities and without knowing anything—just to look at the concepts and try to understand what they mean, okay? Once we do that and define the concepts, we can see that many difficulties and answers and all kinds of such things simply do not arise at all, okay? Fine. Now, Tosafot disagrees—we saw that Tosafot disagrees with Rashi—and the question is what it means when one intended to cut something detached and cut something attached. Rashi says: he intended to cut one detached thing and cut a different attached thing, okay? And Tosafot disagrees and says no, it’s the very same thing itself that he thought was detached and it turned out to be attached. How does Tosafot handle this? Rashi explains the difference between misoccupation and inadvertence, and among other things he says that. How does Tosafot explain it? So he says as follows. It seems to me you aren’t seeing anything except a voice, as the saying goes.

[Speaker F] Before, it was—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It was blue; now here, it connected in large format.

[Speaker F] Okay. The handout sheet.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, I’ll sharpen it again. According to Tosafot, someone who intended to cut something detached and cut something attached—that is misoccupation. According to Rashi, in that situation he is liable, or at least liable to bring a sin offering, but liable—in other words, it is a Torah prohibition. According to Tosafot, it is misoccupation. Misoccupation, right? So basically, he didn’t know that this thing was detached and he cut it—or that it was attached, he cut it—and it turned out that this thing was attached. Already with Rashi, when we are talking about two different plants or two different objects, it’s easier to understand the distinction between this and inadvertence. It is obvious that you are simply acting on something else; it’s not just inadvertence. But according to Tosafot, all that happened is that one fact escaped you. You don’t know that it’s attached; you think it’s detached. What is the difference between that and someone who does not know that today is the Sabbath, and it turns out that today is the Sabbath? You are missing an item of information. So what is the difference between that and inadvertence? So Tosafot says: “because he did not intend the prohibited cutting. And if you say: ordinary inadvertence throughout the Torah also means he did not intend the prohibition—one can answer: throughout the Torah, when he says ‘it is permitted,’ he is inadvertent with regard to something that we know is prohibited. But here he intends something that is permitted according to everyone, if it were as he thinks it is, and therefore he is exempt because this is misoccupation.” Okay. In other words, throughout the Torah, when he says “it is permitted,” say he says “it is permitted,” then he basically thinks it is permitted, but he understands what he is doing, and everyone who looks from the side understands that he is doing something prohibited. Fine? He just doesn’t know that cutting on the Sabbath is prohibited. By contrast, when he intended to cut something detached and cut something attached, if it really had been detached as he thought, then all of us would think this was permitted. Fine, perhaps we can understand this distinction if we are dealing with inadvertence in law—mistake in the law, not in the day. Inadvertence in law means he doesn’t know that it is forbidden to cut on the Sabbath. He doesn’t know that it is forbidden to cut on the Sabbath, but what he did he knows perfectly well, right? And everyone else looking at it knows he is doing something prohibited. Fine? He just doesn’t know that cutting on the Sabbath is prohibited. By contrast, if he intended to cut something detached and cut something attached, then if it really had been detached in his view, all of us would think it was permitted. But what about factual inadvertence rather than legal inadvertence? Someone who doesn’t know that today is the Sabbath, okay? If reality had been as he thought—namely, that it really was not the Sabbath today, sorry—then according to everyone it would be permitted. What is the difference between that and saying: if it had been detached, then according to everyone it would have been permitted? It isn’t detached, it’s attached—you just don’t know it’s attached; you think it’s detached. Here too, you don’t know that today is the Sabbath; you think it’s Thursday, but it is the Sabbath. Why is there a difference between the two? Okay. So apparently there is no choice but to say that the difference here concerns how we define the act being discussed. That is, when I don’t know that today is the Sabbath, the item of information missing to me is a side item of information about the circumstances. As I said before, like Rashi—as I said before, circumstances. That is, I know what I’m doing, I intend what I’m doing, everything is fine; it’s just that I don’t know that today is the Sabbath. I am missing no information at all with respect to the act itself that I am doing. I don’t understand the context of the act. But if I don’t know that this fruit is attached and I think it’s detached, then I don’t know something with respect to the act itself that I am doing. Cutting something detached is not the same as cutting something attached. The difference is not only that one is forbidden and one is permitted. Again, cutting on Thursday and cutting on the Sabbath is exactly the same act; it is just forbidden on the Sabbath and permitted on Thursday. Cutting something detached and cutting something attached is not the same act. Those are two different acts. It’s simply not the same act, okay? Therefore Tosafot apparently understands that inadvertence is always when the information missing to me is side information—circumstantial information, as I called it before. Misoccupation is when the information missing from me, or hidden from me, is information about the act I am doing—what act I am doing—not the circumstances in which I act, but the act itself. Now of course this raises a not-simple question: how do we define the line? Which characteristics are considered incidental and which are considered essential to defining the act itself? Or maybe I’ll put it even more strongly: after all, Rashi and Tosafot disagree on exactly this, right? Rashi says you need two different fruits. Someone who intended to cut this detached thing and instead cut that attached thing—that is misoccupation. But if he intended to cut this very thing, only he thought it was detached and it turned out to be attached, that is not misoccupation, right? So according to Rashi, it follows that if you are dealing with the very same plant, and you didn’t know it was attached—you thought it was detached—that is inadvertence. So from Rashi’s point of view, that really is like inadvertence. That is, the fact that this thing is detached or attached is, for Rashi, circumstantial information and not essential information. The information missing here is circumstantial, like not knowing that today is the Sabbath. Right? And that too is factual inadvertence—just as not knowing that today is the Sabbath is factual inadvertence, so too this is factual inadvertence. Someone who does not know that he is cutting, or does not know that he is cutting this plant, is already involved in another act. So according to Rashi, it follows that thinking that a certain thing is detached, when it turns out to be attached, is a concealment of circumstantial information, because cutting is cutting; it is the same act. I simply didn’t know the circumstance. What are the circumstances? That the plant here is attached and not detached, okay? According to Tosafot, such a thing is called essential information and not circumstantial. But the definition that distinguishes between misoccupation and inadvertence according to Rashi and according to Tosafot seems to me to be the same definition. It is the same definition. The question is whether the information is circumstantial or essential. Their dispute is only over the question of what counts as circumstantial information. Okay? They have a question of definition. Now this brings us into some interesting philosophical questions, and I’ll comment on them a bit.

[Speaker H] But why is this dispute so critical here? Why if it’s something circumstantial do I not need to bring a sin offering, and if it’s something essential I do need to bring one?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You know what you’re dealing with. No—if it’s something circumstantial, then you do need to bring a sin offering.

[Speaker H] If that’s the dispute, then it sounds like it’s also a much more essential dispute about whether this is inadvertence or misoccupation, and whether the liability is even…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no. I’m claiming that both Rashi and Tosafot agree that lack of circumstantial information is inadvertence, and lack of essential information is misoccupation. Their dispute is over what counts as circumstantial information and what counts as essential information, okay? If it’s the same plant, and I thought it was detached and it turned out to be attached—does that count as circumstantial information? Rashi will say yes, that is circumstantial information, that is inadvertence. Tosafot says no, that is essential information; it is a different act. Cutting something detached and cutting something attached are different acts. Rashi will say no, it is the same act in different circumstances; here it is detached, here it is attached, like today being the Sabbath and not Thursday, okay?

[Speaker C] Could it be that in Tosafot you could explain that he’s not necessarily looking at it as a distinction between act and circumstance, and then he doesn’t have to start… maybe Tosafot is saying there’s a difference between whether the person’s mistake determines what comes out, or whether it’s really a one-time error. Meaning, he didn’t know it was the Sabbath, so if you swapped me into that same situation, if you remove the missing knowledge from the cloud, now the knowledge isn’t missing, he’ll always not do the act or do it correctly. By contrast, when the mistake is that he thought it was detached and it’s actually attached, that’s an error you can’t fix by just injecting knowledge into him.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Why? You give him the knowledge that it’s attached.

[Speaker C] But that’s only with regard to this specific attached thing.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] In other words there is a mistake… so you’ve gone back to the distinction between circumstances and non-circumstances; it’s the same distinction.

[Speaker C] No, there’s something prior. You can tell him, and he can still make a mistake.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What do you mean he can still make a mistake?

[Speaker C] No matter how much you explain to him, there are detached things and there are attached things.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, I’m not saying there are. I’m saying to him: this is attached.

[Speaker C] Right, right, you can tell him about this and this and this, and he can still make a mistake.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And if you tell him that today is the Sabbath, can he still not make a mistake? Forget that today is the Sabbath?

[Speaker C] Why not? He can’t make a mistake without ignoring the information you gave him.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Here too he can’t make a mistake without ignoring it.

[Speaker C] No, he can make a mistake. It’s sometimes just a lapse of attention. The Sabbath too is a lapse of attention.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The Sabbath is just a lapse of attention, and also—

[Speaker C] I—

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] a lapse of attention: I don’t know that today is the Sabbath; my attention wandered.

[Speaker C] But the Sabbath exists every moment; it’s not a mistake that exists constantly in his mind before the act.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t see any difference. Other than the distinction between circumstantial and non-circumstantial, I don’t see anything else here. Fine. Maimonides in the Guide for the Perplexed brings the example of the elephant, right? “For the thing that one imagines this name to have fallen upon is something nonexistent”—he’s talking about negative attributes, corporealization, and the like—but a fabricated falsehood. It’s as if the word “elephant” refers to some absent entity that doesn’t exist in reality as something real. And the parable is this: a person hears the name “elephant” and knows that it is an animal, and asks to know its form and its true nature. Describe to me what an elephant is. And the one who errs or misleads says to him: it is an animal with one leg and three wings, dwelling in the depths of the sea, its body shining bright in color. And not a broad face like a human face in its form and image. And it speaks like a human being, and sometimes flies through the air and sometimes swims like a fish. That’s the description of an elephant you get, right? So he says: I do not say that this person has described the elephant differently from what it is. It is not merely that he gave an incorrect description of the elephant, nor that he fell short in grasping the elephant, that he lacks the full information about the elephant. Rather, he says, the thing imagined under this description is fabricated, false, and there exists in reality no such thing. He did not describe the elephant incorrectly; he described something nonexistent. Okay? What he describes is not an elephant. Same thing. Yes. What he describes is—the Talmud says there is also a flying camel, but the claim is that when you describe an elephant incorrectly, it’s not that you made a mistake in describing the elephant. You are describing something that is not an elephant. Apparently, in this case no such creature exists either, but you are simply not describing an elephant. Yes, but this is an absent thing—he gave the name of an existing thing to it, like “a wondrous ear-creature” or “a horse-man” and the like, from imaginary forms to which one has given the names of existing things. Yes, you invent some imaginary figure and give it the name of a real creature, right? Then you can start describing it, but it doesn’t stop being imaginary because you gave it a name, nor because you gave it the name of something real. It’s just a name—a mistaken name, that’s all. In other words, what Maimonides is saying is this: if I tell you, look, the elephant I saw was one meter eighty high, and in truth its height was two meters, then I made a mistake in describing the elephant. That is an incorrect description of the elephant. But if I tell you that an elephant is what Maimonides describes here, then I didn’t make a mistake in the description of the elephant—I simply did not describe an elephant. What is the difference between those two things? Why is it like this here and like that there? Because the question is what information I omitted or what I made a mistake about. If I made a mistake in information that is essential to defining an elephant, then what I am describing is not an elephant. It’s not that I erred in the definition or in the description of the elephant. It simply isn’t an elephant that I’m describing. Because what I’m describing lacks essential characteristics that define the concept “elephant.” But if I leave out something that is not essential to the form of the elephant, something accidental, then I am still describing it incorrectly—that is called an incorrect description, a wrong description, of an elephant. The elephant’s height, whether it is two meters or one meter eighty, is not essential. There are elephants like this and elephants like that. If I said it is one meter eighty, then I did describe an elephant; I just described this elephant incorrectly. But if I say that this elephant has no trunk and three wings and stands in the middle of the sea and so on, then that’s not a mistake in describing the elephant—I am not describing an elephant. You understand that the difference between these two situations is the very same difference we are talking about here. Because this is really the question of which of the characteristics of the thing I am describing—in our case, of the action I think I am doing—which characteristics are essential to the action, such that in their absence it is a different act? It is not an incorrect description of this act; rather, it is actually a different act. And which characteristics are not essential? Then I am still describing this very act itself, perhaps just describing it incorrectly. The claim is basically this: if I say, I cut a tree here on Thursday, and it turns out I cut this tree on the Sabbath—that is a correct description of the act of cutting a tree, okay? It’s just mistaken, because I thought it was Thursday and it was the Sabbath. So I made an error, but I did describe tree-cutting. Okay? But if I say, I am cutting a tree here, when in fact this thing is detached—or I am cutting a tree when in fact I’m really dealing with some bush over there, something like that—then I simply did not describe tree-cutting; I was not thinking about tree-cutting; I was thinking about another act. This is exactly the distinction between side information, circumstantial information as I called it, which is information not essential to defining the act, and information that is part of the definition of the act. If that’s what I missed, then I’m simply not engaged in that act. That is misoccupation; it is not inadvertence, okay? That is exactly the dilemma. And all the disputes of the medieval authorities and the amoraim and everything else are all, at least in my opinion, around this question: which descriptions are essential to the act I am describing, and which characteristics are side characteristics, circumstantial? That is what determines whether you are inadvertent or in misoccupation. If from your own point of view you are engaged in a different act entirely, then you are in misoccupation—you are not engaged in that act at all; you are engaged in another act. If it is the same act and you are only missing some information, fine, then you are inadvertent, because you are missing information, but you are engaged in this act, you are engaged in the prohibited act, okay? I think this is really the root of the difference. You know, for example, I once gave some lectures on Rabbi Kook’s Perplexities of the Generation, an early composition of Rabbi Kook, also one of the texts that underwent censorship. There is a very interesting comparison there at the beginning of the book with the Guide for the Perplexed. In the Guide for the Perplexed, Maimonides says more than once that the “image” of a person, or the essence of a person, is the intellect. His intellect. And Rabbi Kook consistently argues there that the essence of a person is the will. The will, yes—not the intellect. Meaning free choice, attachment to values, commitment to values, okay? And not the intellect, okay? And I think Perplexities of the Generation tries to create a Guide for the Perplexed for Rabbi Kook’s generation. And he assessed that in that generation people basically understood the human being differently. What defines a person is not intellect but will. By the way, today this is even more true. In the age of AI and so on, we see that there are all kinds of beings, including living creatures, but even inanimate entities like what we are now seeing, that can function like intelligent beings. The difference between us and them is only at the point of whether you have free choice. Meaning, whether you can choose to adhere to values and so forth. Thinking is something that can appear also outside human beings. This strengthens even more Rabbi Kook’s move of shifting the center of gravity from intellect to will, okay? Because that is what actually distinguishes the human being. Fine, one can still elaborate on this, but I’m bringing it as an example. You see that on the philosophical level this is basically the same discussion. The question is: what is the essential characteristic without which you are not a human being? What defines the concept “human”? Is the essential characteristic intellect, or is the essential characteristic will? And this will have all sorts of practical consequences, for example. What about a person who has no intellect? Someone with profound intellectual disability, meaning on the level of an animal. His intellectual capacity is like that of an animal. Does he still have the legal status of a human being? Is it permitted to kill him? Do we need to desecrate the Sabbath to save his life? Think about it—if he is not a human being, then apparently not, right? Or a person who has lost the will, for example. He has no free choice in certain circumstances. He has intellect, he understands everything, but he has no free choice. He is not master of his inclinations, or in situations not of your choosing, right? You cannot exercise free choice; you have no control. Can we relate to this as the action of a human being or not? These questions have consequences on the legal and halakhic level as well. It’s not only a philosophical discussion. Fine. So in any case, for our purposes, the claim is that the discussion in this topic is really about when the missing information regarding which I am inadvertent is circumstantial information, and when it is essential information. Yes, I wrote down for myself a few points, a few interesting points in this philosophical issue. For example, when we speak about taxonomy—about classification, classification of objects—for example in biology or zoology, no matter, we classify animals. There are families and species and genera and all sorts of things like that. There are several levels of classification. Or inanimate objects: we can classify them as liquid, gas, solid, earth, copper, the elements, the periodic table, and the like. There are all kinds of classifications of objects. Now classifications can be all sorts of classifications. Aristotle, for example, classified objects according to the scheme of fire, wind, water, and dust. Fire, wind, water, and earth—the four elements. For us, by contrast, we have the periodic table, right? Of a hundred elements or something like that, okay? These are different classifications. Does this describe a different reality? No. We describe exactly the same reality. It’s just that Aristotle chose certain axes of classification, and today we use other axes of classification. There is no dispute here, by the way—it is not a disagreement. What I describe through the periodic table, he will describe by saying this is sixty percent fire, fifteen percent earth, ten percent water, and I don’t know, another five percent of whatever is left over—I don’t remember. Okay? Wind. Yes? Fine, that is his description and this is my description, and it is all just choosing a coordinate system by which I describe things. Think of it like Cartesian coordinates versus polar coordinates. Yes? You can describe a point in space by its x, y, and z, and you can describe it by r, rho, and theta—or z… yes? z, rho, and theta. Something like that. Okay? That’s cylindrical. What? No, cylindrical. There is also spherical, yes. I’m talking about cylindrical, so z, rho, and theta. Now. The question is whether all these classifications, all these classifications, are merely a subjective matter of what is convenient for us, or whether there is really something in reality itself. This is an interesting philosophical question, and it touches our topic too. Is Aristotle right—can one talk in Aristotle’s terms by saying he was right—or was Aristotle mistaken?

[Speaker C] First of all, you can refute the… if you said coordinate system, you can refute it. Let’s say they’re not independent, fire and air.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] First of all, coordinate systems can also be dependent. You can choose a description through a dependent coordinate system.

[Speaker C] No, the axes were in the sense that they were independent.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t know, you’d have to show me an experiment that refutes that claim; I’m not sure you’ll find one. But force and…

[Speaker C] Fine, right, Aristotle isn’t useful. What?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Not useful, fine, everything’s okay, so don’t try to convince me that it’s more efficient. You don’t need to convince me. The question is whether this is a dispute. Meaning: is someone here right and someone else mistaken, or is this our subjective choice—what’s convenient for us, we choose; what isn’t convenient, we don’t choose. Yes, think about Copernicus, for example. People tend to think there was a Copernican revolution. What does that mean? Until him, people thought the earth was at the center and the sun, or all the heavenly bodies, revolved around the earth, revolving along with all kinds of epicycles and deferents, and Copernicus basically reversed the point of view. Really the sun is at the center and we revolve around it. And to this day I still read and hear various people explaining that the benighted religious people are still stuck before the marvelous scientific innovations of Copernicus. That’s complete nonsense, of course. Copernicus didn’t really innovate anything. All Copernicus did was propose a more convenient coordinate system for describing reality; it’s not more correct. Just more convenient. It’s more convenient to describe reality with the sun at the center rather than the earth at the center. At least in our galaxy. Yes, that the sun is at the center and not the earth at the center. There’s nothing in that that’s more true or less true. It’s only a form of description. There’s no way to determine whether the earth revolves around the sun or the sun around the earth. Kinematically it’s completely equivalent. The only question is where you place the origin of your coordinate system. Dynamically there will be differences—fictitious forces and so on—but that’s only dynamically. Kinematically it’s the same thing. Okay, you remember, Maimonides—

[Speaker I] Aristotle’s explanation is very complicated and it doesn’t fit reality.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, fine, it fits reality after you make infinitely many corrections of epicycles and deferents, yes, and even then it never really fits completely. Fine, but in any case, the point is that many things like this that we treat as true and false, or as science progressed—before it was mistaken and now it’s right—that’s not true. We simply have a more efficient coordinate system for describing reality. Not in the sense that… we didn’t progress from falsehood to truth. We progressed to a more efficient system. And of course, if it’s more efficient then we also achieve more with it. Meaning, obviously science has advanced in terms of its achievements as well. But that’s only because we chose a more efficient system. It’s not necessarily that this system is truer. Those are two different things. There are languages in which it’s very convenient to describe things, and languages in which it’s less convenient to describe things. That doesn’t mean the language is false or true. It’s just less convenient for describing those things, that’s all. In mathematical language it’s convenient to describe physics. Try describing physics in words—you won’t get very far. So what does that mean, that Hebrew is an incorrect language? You can also describe physics in Hebrew, by the way, and describe it completely precisely, but it’s terribly complicated. Mathematics is much more efficient, much more effective, to use when we describe physics. So it’s not a question of true and false, it’s a question of forms of description. Therefore classifications that we make, like Maimonides’ classifications and the periodic table and so on, or classifications of various animals—in those cases too the question arises: is this classification a claim about reality, or is it just convenient for us to classify things this way, and it isn’t really… there isn’t really truth and falsehood here. Okay? Or I’ll show this to you from a slightly different angle. There’s a problem in philosophy of science, in a naive philosophy of science. Yes, some philosophical remarks, but I think they give meaning to things. In naive philosophy of science, ever since Francis Bacon, people have thought that a scientist basically—or a historian or a scientist, doesn’t matter, a researcher—when he wants to explain some phenomena, first has to collect the data, collect the information, and then propose a theory that explains the information. Yes, that’s supposedly the way it works. Meaning, first you collect empirical data and then build a theory. That’s utter nonsense, of course. Utter nonsense. It’s not that it’s the other way around either; rather, it’s both together. Yes, and you can see this in… I know two presentations of this, two people who hadn’t heard of one another, describing exactly the same thing. There’s a British historian named Carr who wrote a book called What Is History? And in Hempel’s book, which is on philosophy of science—it appears in the Open University course book on philosophy of science—he gives an example involving a Hungarian Jewish doctor named Semmelweis, who discovered puerperal fever. And it’s exactly the same thing. Meaning, Carr says: suppose we want to explain why Blücher defeated Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo. Okay? So Blücher and Wellington together defeated Napoleon at Waterloo. Now what does Francis Bacon tell us? Let’s collect the data, see what the facts were, how much equipment they had, how many soldiers, the tactics, all those things, and then we’ll build the theory that explains the outcome of the battle. Okay? Why can’t that be right? Because think about it—think of someone arriving with no military knowledge at all. Nothing. We’re a tabula rasa in this area. Now I ask myself: which facts should I collect? Which facts should I collect? What’s the name of the adjutant’s mother—is that relevant? Maybe? I don’t know anything yet, right? I come as a tabula rasa at the start of my military research. So I don’t know which information is relevant. I don’t know—what longitude they were standing on, what was the height of the mountain on which the battle took place, I don’t know which… what color the horses were. How can I decide which information is relevant and which isn’t? You understand that in order to decide which information is relevant—there are infinitely many facts, you can’t collect all the facts. I need to collect the relevant facts. But in order to know which facts are relevant, I need to know how victory in battle is explained—that is, the theory. Meaning I need to know the theory when I come to collect the facts. But if I already know the theory, then why am I collecting the facts? I already know. There are those who like collecting only the facts that fit their theory. Okay? You don’t get very far with that. So what’s really true here? You come with some general idea, you understand what might be relevant and what might not. Then you collect facts, analyze them, try to test them, build a theory. Does it work out? Excellent. Doesn’t it work out? You formulate something else, collect facts, test, return again and again. And that’s how progress happens. It’s wrong to think that either theory precedes the facts or the facts precede the theory. It’s a gradual process. Okay? The classification of facts—which facts are relevant to my theory and which are not—depends on my theory. All right? The same thing with Semmelweis and puerperal fever there. There were two maternity wards. In one of them there was a very high mortality rate among women giving birth, much higher than in the second ward. They tried to understand why. So they began collecting facts to see what the difference was between the wards. For example, through which door did the priest enter and at what hour. What was the pitch of his bell. Which direction the windows faced, what color the tables were, all kinds of crazy things. Why? Because they hadn’t the faintest idea, they didn’t know which facts were relevant to this matter. They collected countless facts and of course got nowhere. At some point a kind of miracle happened and they discovered that in the two wards there were medical students who came after pathology, after a pathology course—they had done pathological work, dissected corpses, and then came to the ward. In one ward they washed their hands and in the other they didn’t. And then they understood that this is what caused the mortality. And by the way, notice: this was at a stage when they had no inkling about bacteria or things like that, so this was like saying there are sorcerers and demons doing it. It’s the same thing. Meaning, you need to understand that if I have no theoretical knowledge at all, I have no way of knowing what the relevant facts are. I have to have at least some general idea that will help me sort out which facts might be relevant, and then start searching among them for what really is relevant. But some initial sorting I have to do in any case. Or think, for example, of Newton. Newton collected a set of facts and from them built the theory of gravitation. One fact, for example, is that bodies I release fall toward the earth. A second fact is the tides. A third fact is the paths of the stars, and so on. Now before Newton, if you had asked me whether these three phenomena have anything in common, I would have had you committed. What connection is there between the tides, this thing falling downward, and the paths of the stars? Why not the color of the bird over there on the tree? There wasn’t the slightest idea. Now Newton decided that all these facts belong to one field, the field of gravitation, and he says that if we posit the existence of gravitational force, I can explain all these facts to you by means of one such assumption. What? They all move? So what? Horses move too; many things move. That proves nothing. What Newton said is that I can offer you a theory that will explain this set of facts—but this set of facts didn’t even constitute a domain until Newton came with the theory. No one would ever have thought to collect those facts in order to start looking for a common explanation of them. By the same token, I could look for why this table is brown, why that bird is ten centimeters long, and why these clouds are cumulonimbus—and look for a common theory for those three facts. There’s no connection. It’s theory that determines which facts belong to the field. And conversely, after there are the facts, I also know the theory. In short, in all these places you see that classification is a very subjective matter. Very subjective. So much so that one could argue that classification is entirely subjective, just in our eyes. There is no real classification. Somebody else could come and offer entirely different explanations for natural phenomena, not Newton’s explanation, and from his perspective the falling of bodies toward the earth and the length of that bird over there would indeed belong to the same field, if he found a scientific law that explains both those things. Then from his point of view those two things would belong to a particular field of research, and now a university faculty would be opened for it. And there would be no faculty of physics, because there is no such field as physics. What is physics? What’s the connection between electricity and gravitation—why is that the same field at all? Okay? Therefore there is definitely room for the claim that classification, or organization into groups of bodies, phenomena, or whatever it may be, is subjective. And if that’s really so, then coming back to us: basically, say, a dispute between Rashi and Tosafot, or a dispute between Abaye and Rava—they are really disagreeing over which phenomena are essential to the act of cutting, as in this case for example, or to other acts, and which phenomena are incidental side issues. What defines the act of cutting as opposed to other actions? And what there is non-essential, merely incidental. Okay? That dispute is in the eye of the beholder. Meaning, there is no one right and one wrong here. If so, then the dispute is drained of content. Fine—so you choose to organize it this way, and he chooses to organize the information differently. There is no one right and one wrong. I could have chosen a third way too; it’s completely arbitrary. I don’t think we’ll go that far. I think most of us would agree that it’s not right to go that far. Meaning, there are correct and incorrect divisions. One more example—maybe with this we’ll soon see. There is a debate, for example—you know—between individualism and fascism. Individualism is an approach that places the individual person at the center, and the state or the collective or something like that comes to serve the individual person, right? They join together because it’s good for each of the individuals. Fascism sees it the other way around. Fascism says that the individual exists in order to serve the collective; he is an organ within the collective. Now there are approaches that root this debate in a metaphysical, ontological dispute—that is, a dispute about reality itself. It’s not a dispute about values; it’s a dispute about reality itself. Do you really think that a collective is an existing entity? Is there such a thing? Or is it a fictitious definition? What exists are individual human beings. We define collectives because it’s convenient for us to deal with the world through peoples, cities, states, to divide it into groups. But that’s an arbitrary division. Before the modern era, when states didn’t exist in the sense they do today, they really didn’t use that division. Okay? So basically the claim of the metaphysical individualists is that this is an ontic claim, not a value claim. The claim is that a collective is not really something that exists; it’s a fictitious definition. We define it because it’s useful. What exists is only the individual person. Okay? And then I ask: tell me, why do you think the individual person exists? The individual person is also a collection of cells or molecules, depending on the resolution at which you’re looking. Okay? Is he really a defined, existing entity? Or is that too just us choosing to see this collection of cells as a person? And by the same token we could connect the cells I have here with the cells of the cat out in the yard there and that bird over there and see that as one creature. It’s only a question of definition. So the fact that the individualist is prepared to see—or those among them who are prepared to see—the person as an existing entity, then there is no barrier to accepting the claim that the collective too is an existing entity. Seemingly there is no more justification for this than for that. Okay? Or at least not an essential one. You can argue about where the line is drawn, but then it’s no longer some black-and-white dispute. The question is where the line passes. Meaning, which collective entities are you willing to regard as existing entities, and from what point onward are they only fictitious definitions, arbitrary definitions. Okay? Therefore I say that even things that seem to depend on definition—not every definition expresses the fact that this is arbitrary. Sometimes the definition describes something essential. Suppose someone defines something incorrectly—I can say he’s mistaken. That he defined it wrongly. Ask mathematicians—they won’t tell you that. It’s not that you define wrongly; define however you want, just be consistent with your definition. I define it differently, fine. It’s your right to define however you want, so long as you’re consistent with your definition. There is no way to criticize definitions, because definition is arbitrary. And I want to claim that this is not true. At least some definitions are not arbitrary. Some definitions try to capture something in reality itself. And if you define it otherwise, then you’re mistaken. Not that you’re choosing an inefficient language or that… you’re mistaken. No, that’s not right. There are human beings. A human being is a defined and unified creature, distinct from others. It’s not a collection of cells. It is a collection of cells, but this collection of cells is a distinct creature that one can relate to. That’s a true claim—the claim that a person exists and is not just a definition… not just an arbitrary definition, okay? That’s basically the claim. Now I think that if we really see here disputes among medieval authorities (Rishonim), Amoraim, or whatever, around this question of how we group actions in the world into categories of actions—this is the act of cutting, this is the act of kindling fire—the whole Sabbath is basically a definition of different actions. Now I want to know whether I am doing an act of cutting or an act of, I don’t know, plucking. Am I doing an act of kindling or an act of cooking, doing… So now there can be disputes: am I doing this kind of act or that kind of act? What would that depend on? On the question of which characteristics define each kind of action, right? But if it’s all just a matter of language, an arbitrary matter, then everyone can define it however he wants; there is no truth and falsehood here. There is no right and wrong here. So what is the argument about at all? Why would you even think that what you think is also what the Holy One, blessed be He, intended? I mean, what’s the connection? It seems to me that in the subtext it’s quite clear that there is an assumption here that these classifications reflect something that is also correct. Meaning, that there is a correct definition and an incorrect definition. When Rashi and Tosafot argue about the case where someone cut a fruit thinking it was detached and it turned out to be attached—Rashi says this is a side detail. It’s not essential to the act of cutting. Tosafot says no, it’s essential to the act of cutting; it’s one of the defining features of the act of cutting. Okay? That’s an argument. Meaning, each one claims that the other is mistaken. It’s not that I choose this language and you choose that language, because otherwise there isn’t really an argument here. Do whatever you want—there is no truth and falsehood here. Okay? Therefore I want to argue that behind arguments like these there sits some philosophical conception.

[Speaker J] And what is a mistake within the action? He says that I don’t actually know what I’m doing at all. So when I do an action and it’s attached or not, I intended to cut and I cut. But this detail, whether it’s attached or not attached, doesn’t change the action that I did. Okay. And therefore he says it has to be something completely different. I went from one branch—attached, not attached—and moved to another branch, so I was completely mistaken about the action. Okay. And you’re saying no, I need to…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Right, that’s clear. What’s the claim? So what’s the claim?

[Speaker J] If I’m cutting something attached, that’s one category, and if I’m cutting something…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, up to this point that’s what I said, but now what’s the claim?

[Speaker J] What I’m saying is that their disagreement is really not just about definitions but about the essence of the action.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly—not just about definitions. What you just said is exactly a dispute just about definitions. That’s exactly the dispute. The question is whether, when you think something is detached and it turns out to be attached, are you still performing an act of cutting here? Is it the same action you thought you were doing? Is this included in the definition of the act of cutting or not? Is it a different kind of action? That’s exactly a dispute about definitions. I am just saying that perhaps it’s not merely a dispute about definitions, but a dispute about definitions. Now the question is whether every dispute about definitions is a pointless dispute—that’s what I noted earlier. I think not. Okay? There are constitutive definitions and there are directive definitions, in philosophical language. Constitutive definitions are definitions where the definition constitutes the concept. Meaning, once you defined it, that is the concept. Directive definitions are definitions that direct themselves toward an existing concept, and you have to capture it correctly. And if you didn’t capture it correctly, then your definition is mistaken. In constitutive definitions there is no mistake in the definition. If you defined it differently, then it’s simply a different concept, like Maimonides’ elephant. So you defined it differently—it just isn’t an elephant, it’s something else. Okay? That’s not a mistake. All right? When you defined elephant incorrectly, that is a mistake. You see that this whole family of questions is exactly the family of questions the passage is dealing with, you know? These are exactly the same questions. Yes, there is the Ship of Theseus. You know this well. I really will finish now. The Ship of Theseus is a famous example. Theseus was, yes, a well-known Athenian commander, and he sailed in a ship, and every time there was a storm and some of the wood broke, he would go to dry dock and repair the ship; they would replace the wood and put in new wood. So then there was another… is this still the same ship? Is this still the Ship of Theseus? This is a dispute among medieval authorities (Rishonim), by the way, a dispute between the Ritva and Tosafot. Yes, the question is whether when he says, ‘on condition that you never go to your father’s house,’ and the house collapsed and now they rebuilt it from the stones, is she permitted to enter that house? Is it the same father’s house that existed before, or not? Now what happens if they replaced the stones? Suppose some of the stones belonged to the house that fell and for the rest they brought other stones, or they enlarged the house. Where is the line? When does it stop being her father’s house, which was forbidden to her by the condition of the divorce, and when does it become another house? Fine, enough of the philosophical remarks. Let’s return to our topic. Let’s go back for a moment to Rashi. We saw in Rashi that if he intended to cut what was detached and cut what was attached, he is basically saying: you want to lift the… you’re basically trying to lift a knife—a knife is something detached—you want to lift it, and in the course of that you cut something attached. Right? That’s basically what it means: he intended to cut the detached and cut the attached. Tosafot says no, this is someone who picked up the fruit itself, thinking it was detached, and it turned out that the fruit was attached. Meaning, according to Rashi you need two objects, the knife and the fruit. And Tosafot says no, even with the very same object itself, that is misoccupation. Okay? Now Rashi’s description already brings us even closer to an unintentional act. Because here it’s really just like an unintentional act. I lift the knife, and what do I end up doing as a result? Cutting the attached object, right? How is that different from dragging a bench and in the process making a furrow? According to Tosafot it’s a completely different world. That’s the difference I mentioned earlier. Right, according to Tosafot, when you intended to cut the detached and cut the attached, you didn’t perform two actions, one of which you intended and one of which you didn’t. You performed one action; you just didn’t know what it was. In an unintentional act you perform two actions. You drag the bench and you make a furrow. It’s just that you intend the dragging of the bench and not the prohibited act of making the furrow. Okay? That’s an unintentional act. So according to Tosafot the difference is clear. According to Rashi it’s very unclear. Because according to Rashi, misoccupation is only when you’re lifting a knife and cutting the fruit in the process. Well then, we’ve gone right back to an unintentional act. What’s the difference? What do you say? That in an unintentional act he

[Speaker B] knows that there will be a furrow.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly. What I said earlier. That just sharpens what I said earlier. Right, if he knows then it’s an inevitable result, but right, he knows that a furrow might be created here. In an unintentional act the difference is on the plane of unwittingness. The difference is on the plane of unwittingness. Meaning, if you drag a bench and create a furrow, you know that a furrow is going to be created here, or might be created here, right? In that sense you are not unwitting. There is no dimension of unwittingness here. That’s an unintentional act. In misoccupation, even according to Rashi, where the case is very similar to an unintentional act—that’s why I’m bringing it up—even according to Rashi, where you lift a knife and in the process cut the attached object… again, two actions: lifting a knife is like dragging the bench, and cutting the attached object is like making a furrow. So here too there are two actions; you can’t make the division Tosafot makes between misoccupation and an unintentional act. But the division on the conceptual level is the same division. Because according to Rashi, what he will basically say is that when you lift the knife and in the process cut the attached object, there is a difference between that and dragging a bench and creating a furrow. Because you don’t know that this will happen. So notice: basically according to Rashi, in the case of the bench he must know that it can create…

[Speaker C] If you don’t know, it’s misoccupation.

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You’re saying now according to

[Speaker C] Rashi, kind of?

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I don’t know, it seems obvious to me, but fine.

[Speaker C] You’re kind of changing the…

[Rabbi Michael Abraham] According to Rashi, it actually comes out that the conceptual analysis I gave earlier needs to be adjusted a bit. What he’s dealing with is really a combination of unintentional action and inadvertence. A complete combination. Meaning, this is no longer the idea of unintentional action together with the idea of inadvertence. It’s literally a direct combination. In other words, unintentional action when you are mistaken about the forbidden act—that’s what’s called misdirected involvement. Okay? That’s exactly it. Because you don’t know that you’re performing a forbidden act—not that you don’t know it’s forbidden. You don’t know it’s happening. Okay, so according to Rashi, the connection between inadvertence and unintentional action is just an arithmetic combination. In other words, inadvertence plus unintentional action is what gives me misdirected involvement. Okay. This sharpens the point for us that the mistake is a very essential element in defining misdirected involvement. Even though misdirected involvement is not a claim about punishment but a claim about the absence of a transgression, the mistake is still very important for understanding what misdirected involvement is. It’s just that in the case of misdirected involvement, the meaning of the mistake changes. The mistake doesn’t make you inadvertent, because then you would be liable for a sin-offering—you committed a prohibition. The mistake turns it into a situation where it is not considered that you performed the act at all. There is no transgression. But that is caused by the mistake. It’s not that you didn’t do it—you did perform the act. It’s not that you didn’t do it; halakhically it is considered as though you didn’t do the act. Why? Because if you don’t know that this act is being done, then it is considered as though you didn’t do it. And again, not because you aren’t guilty because you didn’t know and so they forgive you. No. The halakhic definition is that if that’s the case, then this is not a forbidden act. Theoretically, if it were possible, you could intentionally not know and do the act. It’s not that afterward you apologize and say, look, it happened, I didn’t know, forgive me, charge me only with a sin-offering and not stoning. No. I could intend in advance not to know—if that were possible, yes—not to know and to do it without knowing, and that would be perfectly fine; there would be no problem at all, because there is no transgression here. Look at Maimonides in chapter 1, Jewish law 8, of the laws of the Sabbath. Just for background: throughout chapter 1 of the laws of the Sabbath, at the beginning he talks about liability for a sin-offering and stoning, inadvertence and intentional violation. After that, unintentional action. Then an act of labor not needed for its own purpose in Jewish law 7, and in Jewish law 8 he starts discussing misdirected involvement. So this is Jewish law 8, okay? Just so it’s in context. “Anyone who intended to do one prohibited labor, and another prohibited labor was done by him that he did not intend, is exempt regarding it, because his intended thought was not carried out. How so? If he threw a stone or an arrow at his fellow or at an animal in order to kill them, and as it traveled it uprooted a tree and did not kill, he is exempt. All the more so if he intended a lighter prohibition and a more severe prohibition occurred, such as if he intended to throw in a karmelit and the stone passed into the public domain, he is exempt. And so too in all similar cases. If he intended to do something permitted and did something else, such as if he intended to cut something detached and cut something attached, he is not liable at all, and so too in all similar cases.” If he intended one prohibition and committed another prohibition, then he is exempt, though there is a rabbinic prohibition. If he intended something permitted and it turned out that he committed a prohibition, then it is completely permitted. Everything depends on the question of what he intended, not what he actually did. Okay, but notice: this whole Jewish law—which category does it belong to, unintentional action or misdirected involvement? In his wording it’s intention; he says, anyone who intended, and did not intend this, and so too intended that, right? This is all talking here about intentions. But it’s clear that he’s talking about misdirected involvement, not unintentional action. Even from the context of the laws: the laws of unintentional action end in Jewish law 6. Jewish law 7 is an act of labor not needed for its own purpose. And now this is Jewish law 8. So did you suddenly go back to unintentional action? We finished unintentional action, moved on to an act of labor not needed for its own purpose—why are you now going back to unintentional action? He isn’t going back to unintentional action; he’s going back to misdirected involvement. Okay? And when he speaks here about intention, the term intention in this context in Maimonides is not the intention of unintentional action. It’s not—he does not mean intention the way we mean it in ordinary language, “I didn’t mean that.” I didn’t know at all that this is what would happen, I didn’t mean to hit you, I made a mistake, I didn’t notice that I was hitting you. Sorry, I didn’t mean to. Right? That’s how we talk. That is not unintentional action in the laws of the Sabbath, because unintentional action in the laws of the Sabbath is if something happened to a person—I dragged a bench across someone’s face and made a groove in it. Okay? I can say, look, I didn’t mean to. What do you mean you didn’t mean to? You knew you were dragging a bench; a groove came out on my face, right? What do you mean you didn’t mean to? That’s unintentional action in the laws of the Sabbath. It’s not unintentional action in everyday speech. Everyday speech is not what is called unintentional action. When Maimonides speaks here about intending, he’s speaking in the sense of intention from ordinary language, not from halakhic language. He says, I didn’t mean to—that’s misdirected involvement. Okay, so it’s very interesting that on the one hand it’s clear that misdirected involvement is a separate category, while on the other hand he uses the term intention. Why does he use the term intention? Maybe—I don’t know—it could be that he really means to say that misdirected involvement belongs to the family of unintentional action. Meaning, he is coming to tell us that the exemption of misdirected involvement is the absence of a transgression. It’s not like inadvertence or something of that sort, but rather like an act of labor not needed for its own purpose, like unintentional action, the whole series brought there in chapter 1. It’s basically an absence of transgression. So this too is some other kind of lack of intention. There it’s lack of intention in one sense; here it’s lack of intention in another sense. The Or Sameach there really does have a very long discussion on this Maimonides, and I recommend that anyone who has time take a look there, because he goes through these things at length—the difference between this and inadvertence, and between this and thoughtful labor. Now, more than that, think for example about Tosafot. Tosafot says that—even without Tosafot, just in the Talmudic text—if someone does not know that this plant is attached, he thinks it is detached and it turns out it is attached, okay? Then according to Tosafot that is misdirected involvement, right? According to Rashi, if it’s the same object then no, but according to Tosafot it is misdirected involvement. Okay? What happens if someone cuts this plant and didn’t know it was the Sabbath? He knew it was attached, but he didn’t know today was the Sabbath. Then he is inadvertent, right? Is there any difference between those two in terms of the level of guilt? What’s the difference? Here I didn’t know something, and there I didn’t know something. If there is negligence in not knowing, then there is negligence here and there alike. I don’t see any distinction in terms of your level of guilt. So why in inadvertence are you liable for a sin-offering—meaning there was a transgression—while in misdirected involvement you are exempt? Because the act is not forbidden. This is not an argument for exemption because of lack of guilt; that’s what I’m constantly trying to emphasize. It is not an argument for exemption because of lack of guilt. Okay? There is a topic we didn’t touch on, I think, last semester. I believe we didn’t. We talked about a case where it is unavoidable and he does not intend, and in those topics, Passover 25. There, for example, someone is going somewhere; he is going to do something, I don’t know, he needs to do something. On the way he passes by a shop that sells spices of idolatry, okay? And it is forbidden to smell them. Accessories of idolatry—it is forbidden to smell spices of idolatry. The question is whether he is allowed to take that route in order to get somewhere, or whether he is forbidden because of the prohibition of idolatry. He knows, he knows there is a store there; it’s not that he stumbled into it without knowing. So the Talmudic text says this: if there is an alternative route, let him take the alternative route. But if the alternative route is just a bit longer—not that you are compelled and can’t get there, no, it’s a hundred meters longer—then you can go on this route. Now you understand that this clearly is not a problem of compulsion. It’s unintentional action—unavoidable and he does not intend. Meaning, it’s not a problem of compulsion. What do you mean compulsion? Walk another hundred meters in order to avoid a prohibition involving accessories of idolatry. You won’t walk another hundred meters? That’s not compulsion. He could just not go at all, right, exactly. Here this is not an exemption of compulsion at all. So what is the argument? The argument is this: if there is another route and you went this way, then don’t tell me that you didn’t go in order to smell the odor of idolatry. Of course you did—otherwise why didn’t you go the other way? So it’s clear that you did intend. Therefore you are liable. But if there is no other route, you can’t come to me with claims. I went this way because I have no alternative. So here I am exempt not because I am compelled, but because I did not go in order to smell idolatry. That is misdirected involvement, or unintentional action, or whatever you want to call it. What happens if I do have another route but it is a hundred meters longer? That’s good enough. Why? Because I can still claim that the reason I went this way is only because it’s shorter, not in order to smell idolatry. That is enough. Meaning, the claim does not have to be a claim of compulsion. The claim only needs to show that what I did was go where I wanted to go, and not go in order to smell idolatry. And to prove that, it’s enough for me to show that the alternative is slightly more burdensome. That’s all. So here is an example of unintentional action that does not exempt you because you were compelled. People are very uncomfortable with something like this. What, you’re not compelled, so walk another hundred meters. This has many implications, by the way. For example, is it permissible to go watch movies with problematic scenes? Immodest scenes and so on. I claim that it is possible. Why is it possible? Exactly like here. You can’t watch the movie without those scenes; you don’t have the movie if you want to watch that movie. Just to choose it, if you have another movie that is no less good in your eyes, then it is forbidden. But if you want to watch this movie, you have no option to watch it without those parts. So this is unavoidable and he does not intend. And once again, why is everyone so surprised by this? Because people tend to think that this is an exemption due to compulsion. Now, don’t tell me you are compelled—just don’t go watch a movie. Do you have to watch a movie? You are not compelled. Meaning, if the issue were compulsion, then what I’m saying would be wrong. But since the issue in unintentional action is not compulsion but rather absence of transgression, then it does not matter that I could have avoided it. That’s not the point. There is nothing here for me to avoid. It is not a transgression. On the halakhic level, someone might still come and say, okay, but it’s still not advisable to do this. But I’m saying that on the dry halakhic level, this is exactly the difference between an argument of compulsion and an argument of absence of transgression. Okay? And even so, I do want somehow to connect this exemption to the exemption of compulsion. What do I mean? The claim I want to make is basically: why, really, is this thing not a transgression? A groove was dug here, a groove was made here, a groove was made here in a field on the Sabbath. Fine—it is building or plowing, depending on whether it is in a house or in a field. That is what the Torah forbids, and it is one of the primary categories of labor. But what? I didn’t do it. It is not considered my act. Yes—not that the forbidden act was not done here; the forbidden act was done, the act in the object, yes? But the act in the person was not done, meaning the person did not do this act. Okay, that’s the claim. Now if you know, also regarding compulsion there are many later authorities (Acharonim) who argue that the basis of the exemption in compulsion is that it is not considered that you did it. Something that you were compelled to do is not considered your act. By the way, in philosophy of action too—a field in analytic philosophy—philosophy of action makes it very clear that what you did not intend to do is not considered your act. You are not an agent, in philosophical language. Okay? Meaning, a person who acts out of his own choice and awareness is an agent. You can judge his actions and say this is good, this is bad, this is permitted, this is forbidden, this is obligatory. Okay? But actions that you do not out of your own choice—because you are compelled, or absentmindedly, misdirected involvement, or something like that—those are not considered your actions. Now if that is so, then you see that the two sides of the spectrum that I described earlier—unintentional action and inadvertence—are not so different from one another. Let’s talk about compulsion, not inadvertence, because inadvertence is reduced compulsion. But compulsion and unintentional action. Compulsion: apparently there was a transgression here, only there is no guilt because you were compelled. But one who says that this act is not yours is really claiming that compulsion is not an argument for lack of guilt; in compulsion you did not do the forbidden act at all, there is no transgression. And then it comes out that awareness or compulsion on one side, and unintentional action or misdirected involvement on the other side, are actually both based on the same halakhic idea. The halakhic idea is that acts of this kind are not considered your acts. The contexts are different, the reasons are different, but in the end the exemption stems from the fact that we do not see the act as your act. And then there is indeed some connection between misdirected involvement and compulsion. Again, the connection is not essential, as I said earlier; you do not need to be compelled in order to be considered misdirected involvement. But still there is some connection, because in both cases you are basically exempt through the fact that you are not considered the one who did the act, because you cannot say that the forbidden act was not done—it was done. There is now a groove in the world or whatever happened here. Okay? So there is indeed some connection between the exemption of misdirected involvement and unintentional action, and compulsion. Maybe we’ll manage one more thing. Tosafot in Sabbath 72: “He intended to lift the detached item.” Rashi explained in his commentary: for example, a knife lying in a vegetable bed, and he intended to lift it and cut the attached item. If so, then the case where they disagree, where he intended to cut the detached item and cut the attached item, would mean that he intended to cut one detached item and cut another attached item. But if he intended to cut this attached item and cut another attached item, it would imply that he is liable according to everyone. Tosafot infers from Rashi the opposite inference from what we made earlier. And to that opposite inference he adds another inference. Rashi said this: Rashi said that if he intended to cut the detached item and cut the attached item, that is misdirected involvement—this is what is written in the Talmudic text. What does that mean? Someone who intended to cut that detached item and cut this attached item—two different objects. That implies that if with the same very item he intended to cut the detached item, thought it was detached, and it turned out to be attached—that is inadvertence, right? That’s the inference we made. Tosafot adds another inference. What happens if you intended to cut this attached item and cut the other attached item? Both were attached. You cut this attached item and cut a different attached item—you intended to cut this attached item and cut a different attached item. Tosafot claims that according to Rashi this too would be inadvertence and not misdirected involvement. What is the inference? Because otherwise why would you need to explain it as intending to cut the detached item and cutting the attached item? In any case, we’re talking about two different objects. So let it be where he intended to cut one attached item and cut another attached item—an even bigger novelty, that even though he intended something forbidden, he is still exempt under misdirected involvement. All the more so if he intended something permitted. This proves Maimonides. Maimonides says that if you intended a prohibition, it is rabbinically prohibited; if you intended something permitted, then under misdirected involvement it is completely permitted. That is Tosafot’s discussion here. Tosafot here basically wants to say that in Rashi there are two cases that count as inadvertence and not misdirected involvement. If he intended to cut this attached item and cut that attached item, that is inadvertence, not misdirected involvement. If he intended to cut the detached item and that very item itself turns out to be attached, that too is inadvertence and not misdirected involvement. Misdirected involvement is only where he intended to cut that detached item and cut this attached item. Right. According to Rashi, in order for the matter to be misdirected involvement rather than inadvertence, two conditions are required: first, that it be a different object; and second, that you intended to perform a different act—cutting a detached item as opposed to cutting an attached item. Okay? Only if both are fulfilled is it misdirected involvement. If either one is lacking, it is inadvertence. It turns into inadvertence. Okay? In contrast, Tosafot says: “And Rabbenu Tam found this difficult, because at the end of the chapter ‘It Is Uncertain Whether He Ate,’ Samuel said: one who is involved inadvertently with forbidden fats and forbidden sexual relations is liable, because he derived pleasure. On the Sabbath he is exempt, because the Torah prohibited only thoughtful labor.” So there are qualifications to the law of misdirected involvement. What are the qualifications? In forbidden fats and forbidden sexual relations, even though generally misdirected involvement is exempt, in those cases he is liable. On the Sabbath he is exempt because the Torah prohibited only thoughtful labor. And that is not by the rule of misdirected involvement but by the rule of thoughtful labor, exempt. That is Samuel’s view. Not necessarily like Abaye and Rava that we saw. And that is Samuel’s view. “And it is proven there,” says Tosafot, “that even if he intended to pick this fig and picked another fig, Samuel exempted him.” So what does Tosafot prove from here? This is a difficulty against Rashi. If he intended to cut this fig and cut another fig, what is that supposed to be according to Rashi? Inadvertence, not misdirected involvement, right? And here Samuel exempted him. He is not liable for a sin-offering. Such a case is misdirected involvement, not inadvertence. Okay? “And later, in the chapter ‘One Who Throws,’ Rava exempted one who intended to throw four cubits and threw eight, because he did not say, ‘Let it land wherever you want’; and certainly if he intended to throw to one side and it went to another side, since his will was not carried out at all; or if he intended to cut this attached item and cut another attached item, he is exempt.” All of these are difficulties against Rashi. Okay? Because we see that someone who intended to do the same act on two different objects is misdirected involvement even though it is the same act. Both are cutting. According to Rashi, misdirected involvement is only different acts on different objects. Sorry—according to Rashi, just a second, misdirected involvement is only a different act on a different object. Yes, a different act on a different object. If it is the same act on different objects, or different acts on the same object, then it is inadvertence. Okay? That is the difficulty against Rashi. And therefore Rabbenu Tam says: “And Rabbenu Tam therefore appears to hold that here we are dealing with someone who intended to cut something detached and it turned out to be attached.” He disagrees with Rashi. Rashi says he intended to cut that detached item and cut this attached item. Rabbenu Tam says no, no—you need to read the Talmudic text simply. He intended to cut something detached and it turned out that this very detached item itself was attached, and this is the very same object. He disagrees with Rashi. “And he cut exactly what he intended to cut, only he did not know that it was attached. And Abaye and Rava disagree about the verse ‘through which he sinned,’ which Rabbi Eliezer explains in the chapter ‘It Is Uncertain Whether He Ate’ as excluding misdirected involvement. And that is stated there explicitly, where he said to Rava: according to Abaye, where do you find a case of intending to cut the detached item and cutting the attached item? When he intended to lift the detached item,” and so on. Well, “explicitly” depends on how you explain the Talmudic text. Rashi explains the Talmudic text as talking about two objects. But it is true that the plain sense of the Talmudic text really is like Tosafot. “And Samuel, who exempted on the basis of thoughtful labor—that is where he intended to cut this attached item and cut another attached item, because his intended thought was not carried out.” Notice: if he intended to cut this attached item and cut another attached item, what is that according to Rashi? Inadvertence, right? So what exactly is Samuel doing when he exempts it by the rule of thoughtful labor? Samuel says that, true, throughout the entire Torah, someone who intended to do the same act on two different objects is inadvertent, not misdirected involvement. But on the Sabbath he has an exemption by the rule of thoughtful labor. That is throughout the Torah. On the Sabbath there is an exemption under thoughtful labor, not under misdirected involvement. If you want, this is misdirected involvement—what? Yes, but you don’t need to get there; I’ll do it through unintentional action. That is a stronger analogy, because an act of labor not needed for its own purpose also exists only in the laws of the Sabbath and not throughout the Torah. But here he is basically saying this. He says as follows: there is an exemption of misdirected involvement which applies throughout the Torah, okay? On the Sabbath there is another exemption, which is thoughtful labor. Where is the practical difference? In places where there would not be an exemption of misdirected involvement, it could still be that on the Sabbath there would be an exemption by the rule of thoughtful labor. For example, if he intended to cut this attached item and cut another attached item—which according to Rashi is inadvertence, and according to Tosafot, sorry, is misdirected involvement. Samuel claims: in any case there will be an exemption by the rule of thoughtful labor. Okay? According to Tosafot, by the way, that is superfluous. It is superfluous, and there is the—this also belongs here by the rule of misdirected involvement. According to Rashi there is no rule of misdirected involvement here. According to Tosafot there is also the rule of misdirected involvement here, and besides that there is also an exemption by the rule of thoughtful labor. Okay? It may be that there is a practical difference, for example in a destructive act where thoughtful labor is not required, or there may be some practical differences. Why am I bringing this? Because it is very similar to what we saw in the context of unintentional action in Rabbi Chaim, last semester. With unintentional action we basically saw there too that there is unintentional action for the whole Torah, and it exempts throughout the Torah and also on the Sabbath. In addition, on the Sabbath there is also the exemption of thoughtful labor, which is the Sabbath version of unintentional action. And therefore he says that even according to Rabbi Yehuda, who holds that unintentional action is liable, on the Sabbath it will only be a rabbinic prohibition, as many medieval authorities (Rishonim) say. Why? Because on the Sabbath there is also the exemption of thoughtful labor, and that Rabbi Yehuda does accept. The exemption of unintentional action he does not accept—that is for the whole Torah—but on the Sabbath there is also the exemption of thoughtful labor, and that he does accept. Exactly the same structure is happening here too with misdirected involvement according to Tosafot. Okay, let’s stop here.

Leave a Reply

Back to top button